When I was younger I can't remember the age but my father abused me. Not sexually, but physically. Not with his hands, but blocks of wood. He would hit me repeatedly with thick pieces of wood whenever I did something wrong. And I was young I still hadn't know right from wrong yet. But he still beat me. I still have flashbacks to this day. Me spilling something on accident and him grabbing my hand leading me out to the garage and hitting me while I cried out. Why? I ask myself every single day. He stopped when I got older I'd say about age 10. Sometimes I wish he still abused me so I could have reported him. You wanna know the worst part? My mom knew what he did to me. She was there and did nothing. She didnt help me. She didnt save me. And you want to know what's even worse? She didn't divorce him or anything. He still lives down the hall from me. How would you feel if your abuser lived a few doors down? I was so young. Why did I deserve it?
Perfection37 Perfection37
18-21, F
Jan 12, 2013