Im to Young
Im 16 years of age, too young to be taken seriously but too old to not to know that this is wrong. I have been through so much that I myself wonder if it all happened. Everynight I think through it all and cry, not in unhappiness but in relief that its all over. I havent found my happy ending but I am content. I smile and laugh and I see the beauty that others dont. I just cant let go. Im so angry and so scared but all I can do is hold it in. I cant let go. I sometimes wonder if God hates me. Everything single thing is a struggle. Everything, I have been through so much that when I dont think I can go through anything more I do. I dont know how I get in these situations, if its just chance or karma? I dont know why. when I was little I remember someone telling me God puts you through things to make you stronger, because he knows your strong enough. I WASNT STRONG ENOUGH, IM NOT STRONG ENOUGH !!!! I was hurt, I am hurt. When I was 2 months old my father left my mother and I, her being 18 and poor. we were best friends I was all she had and she was all I had. I remember how she'd smile at me, and hug and love on me. I rememer it all. I never had father but she filled the empty hole as much as she could. My Grandmother would watch me while my mother went to her college courses. My Grandomother loved me also, I was happy and engeretic. One night my Grandmother murded my step Grandfather I was four, I didnt know why, or how then. All I remember is her face and the sounds fade away. I remember my mothers face and how I didnt understand. After my Grandmother went to prison my mother and I moved to this yellow house it was a Duplex house. My mother was so busy doing school work and feeding us, she barely noticed me. So she wouldnt have know that I would sneak out and go to the neighbors. He was older than I, im not sure how much but he was. He would play games that I wouldnt know were inappropirate. He would touch me and tell me it was just a game. All I knew that he was my friend, and that he wasnt going anywhere. After a few years we moved to Apartments. I was 8 years old and starting 3rd grade. My mother got in touch with her older sister. Her older sister was on Cocaine addict and numerous other substances she had 2 children at the time. My mother would watch them and let them play with me. The eldest one was 15 years old, he was quiet and looked responsible so he was aloud to watch me sometimes. I was so naive and sweet. I never complained about anything, I just wanted love and I seeked for it anywhere and anyway. He told me I was the prettiest girl in the whole world, but that I was too happy. There were woods in the back of the appartments he would take me back there and its a blurr it happened so many times, but I cant even force myself to take it all in. I remember how my body would freeze and my thighs would ache, my hands would throb, my crys were silent to him. They were so loud to me, did he not know? I was unhappy and even more vulnerable. Exactly what he did like. I remeber afterwards he would make me swear to God, and my faith in God at that time was Great even through the circumstances were not. The dirt that covered me from those woods, never came close to how dirty I really felt, and it never will. After two years of this, it ended. We moved to another home and my mother adopted her sisters children. Except that there was a new baby who is now my little sister. The son of my Aunt lived with his father. Now he is married and has a daughter, I always think of her and pray to God she has the strength to never let him take away her true innoence, because that cannot be taken ever only given away. After my Mother adopted her two neices she turned violent and hateful. There was no more love she could give, and that was one thing the girls deeply needed. You see the girls and I were not different at all. We had all lived the exact exspierences. My mother was so violent, we hated being home. We learned to tune out the hutful names and phrases that ringed in our ears everyday. "*****, WORTHLESS PIECE OF ****, NASTY ****, ************, UGLY, STUPID" Were the lyrics to a song that never stopped. My mother got in touch once again, this time with her father. He was a free- spirted man, with genorisoty for the whole world. He was tall and handsome, strong and funny. Because he had so much to offer, of course he had a flaw. He cared too much, and trusted anyone and everyone. People magneted to him, they'd use him and use him, until one day someone murdered him. The thing is, it was a robbery gone bad, very very bad. It was one of his so called friends. They thought he was gone and found he was not and beat him to death. If they would have asked, they would have recieved, he was a man of God. I can remeber everything, the phone call, the blood crunching under our feet when we found him a week later. The awful smell, the smudges of blood everywhere and his sad, cold face. What I cant remeber is if my mother ever reassured me, hugged me and said its ok even if it was far from it. I was alone and I had struggles alone. That was my attitude, alone. Now Im two years older and Im still angry and disgusted but Im far from alone.