Keisha
The abuse, the name calling, and the hurt has to stop. I've dealt with broken bones and everything because of this man. The one I'm suppose to call my dad, the one who is supposed to protect me from hurt. I get treated like shit mentally and physically. I sit in my room crying for hours asking God what I did so wrong to make my own dad hate me. I've tried to kill myself multiple times to get away from this hurt. I'm Keisha an 18 year old born and raised in Atlanta, Georgia and currently a senior in high school. I don't have many friends since I like to keep to myself. My mom passed away giving birth to me and well my dad basically hates me. He beats me every chance he gets since I was 5. He feels like I'm the reason my mom passed away. I remember the first time he hit me like it was yesterday.
Flashback
I walked into my dads room one morning to see him sprawled across his bed with beer bottles everywhere. "Daddy I'm hungry..I want cereal." I whispered shaking him. After not getting a response I decided to be a big girl and make my own cereal. I went downstairs and pulled the chair to the counter as I grabbed a bowl and the cereal. Sadly I failed, the bowl went flying to the ground breaking into pieces and knocking things over on the way. I stood on the chair looking at the mess terrified. "Keisha ! What are you down there doing ?!" His deep voice boomed through the house. He quickly came down the stairs with an annoyed face at the fact that I just woke him out his sleep. "Why are you breaking shit !" He yelled. "I just wanted some cereal, you wouldn't wake up." I mumbled looking down as I bit my lip trying not to cry. This was the first time he ever talked to me like that. "What the fuck is wrong with you !" He yelled again roughly snatching me off the chair as he took off his belt. "I'm sorry." I cried. He began to hit me with the belt and toss me around so rough that I started to feel lightheaded. My little body was being thrown around and hit like I was a man. As I cried loudly he kept hitting me with the belt getting rougher and rougher with every hit. He threw me against the wall going back upstairs as I laid there in tears.
Flashback over
Every since that day he beat me like he hated me. I just wish it was somebody that could come and rescue me from this nightmare. His beatings caused me to hate men, I get scared anytime a man comes to close to me. Being beat also caused me to become tough and learn to fight believe it or not. I don't like to fight but living in the hood of Atlanta, Georgia you have no choice but to be tough or you'll just get ran over and used.
