The Beginning?

I remember once being a pretty happy child. Soon after my father married my step mother we sharred a fairly big half a double home. Location, not so friendly. Life was good, we all seemed to get along. I loved my new family.
Tragic struck one night and we were awoken by our house set in flames. My first glimps at fear. Maybe many of us lost ourselves that night. It was frantic, rushing to make it to an exit. It was weird how both doorways out were connected to the same area; basement to the right of the front door at the bottom of a stairway. You could feel the heat, see the flames and fear that it will engolf you...I can't find the words to describe this.
My father was the last one out, making sure we all got out safe. Six children and his new wife..I could never understand what he felt that night.
As smoke and flames engolfed both exits I worried when my father would come out. Watching our house burn in flames from across the street, crying for my father. A neighbor came to offer us a place for the night..we were not aloud to watch any longer. Later I learned that my father jumped through the flames to get out..Maybe this triggered a change. I don't remember seeing my step mother drink before, but after this night; I noticed the beer bottles hitting her lips..
I have no clear recolection of our second home..only the living room and kitchen that held a big bay window. I starred out into the outside world alot from this view. I must have been in third grade. Had one friend that always seemed to get me into trouble with my step mother. She taught me about more grown-up happenings. I distested any idea of her words..but I wanted to learn everything I could. I guess this house is where it all started.
Not sure of the tasks of the day but I'm positive I had cleaning to do. My step mother and I seemed to do most of the cleaning, I didn't mind. I took notice of my duties compaired to the other children though. I must have had something to throw away as my step mother swept the floor. I guess I walked to close to the pile and scattered some of it in my passing. All I felt was a wack hit the back of my legs. I turned around as another wack was comming into effect. I was beaten by the broom for messing up some dirt; being yelled at..sheilding myself as I ran to the stairs. Cowering there..that's all my mind will remember
I hated that house; mind has blocked nearly everything out..just flashes..Forced to stand in the corner behind the front door for hours as punishment for whatever I did to displease her. My step mother sitting watching tv as she drank and watched me. If I swayed or moved I was forced to stand there longer...hours. most times I would recieve the belt and the corner as punishment..how difficult it was to stand there in pain..and blocked..unable to grasp any more memory.
halfdead25 halfdead25
26-30, F
Jan 6, 2013