The Life I Didn't Choose
my dad was physically abusive when I was younger. I was the tough one out of my 3 sisters and I. I tried to defend them but I would get hurt to, and not be allowed to go to school because of my bruises.. On Sunday mornings, we went to church. My sisters and I would sit in the back seat for the 20 minute car ride. We were not allowed to talk. Being kids, we couldn't help ourselves. My dad would count. every time he went up in numbers, thats how many times he was going to hit us. When we got home from church. he would lay us all face down on one of our beds. My sisters and I would hold hands as he went down the line hitting us. when my little sister was getting hit. she would always squeeze my hand and look at me in the eyes while I watched her cry. I hate these memories. It makes me on constant guard. I have a hard time trusting in relationships. I don't want to marry a man that would hurt my kids.. I don't want someone to hurt me again.