The Night That Made Her File For Divorce.

Here I am with my 2 year old sister laying at my feet as I try to change her diaper while my dad  is passed out of  the couch on again.  Mom's at her day shift job, and I am 5 years old. I've given Brittany and myself saltines for breakfast, and now she's has dirtied her diaper.  It's so hard to change her, she won't lay still...Foot steps...It's mom. Thank god...

Now I hear her and Brad argue. This is nothing new, so I sit and play with Brittany..She's scared.  I feel its my job to protect her.  yesterday Brad and his 'coke buddies' played one of their favorite games with us...HIDE AND SEEK IN THE DARK..  This was a horrible scary game in which he turned off all the lights in the big apt we lived in, and then he hid...We were to find him..Being 5 and 2, it was just awful...although my memories of these days are faint, I remember not wanting to find one of the ''buddies'' because then that meant we had to wrestle our way out of a head lock or some other horrid move.  

Mom's back at work now, and Brad has once again burnt the supper. It's burnt breaded dried out porkchops.  I HATE porkchops.  I was not to leave the table until my plate was emptied.  I sat for what had to have been hours, because soon I had to pee.  I asked permission.  He said not until I finished my dinner. After choking down the few remaining bites of cold, burnt meat I walked back into the living room where he was laying on the couch.  I asked if I could use the bathroom, and he said yes.  By this time it was late, and very dark.  After being messed with in the dark so much naturally being 5 yrs old I was terrified of it.  I asked him to turn on the light. He refused, laughing all the while.  I went over to pick up my baby sister to accompany me back the dark hall.  He screamed and threw the remote at me.  I was not to move her.  Terrified of the monsters that lived in the hall (they came out if we did not mind Brad) I was really worried because I had taken so long to eat my horrid dinner.  I sat behind the lazy boy, and began to spin on my sit and spin, trying to take my 5 yr old mind off of the fact that I had to pee so bad it had now begun to hurt.  I knew I didn't have long.  I got up and ran to the bathroom.  It was too late, I stood in the hall in a puddle of my own urine wanting to disappear.  I knew what repercussions would be if Brad were to find me.  I began sobbing.  Just wishing for my mom, or my grandparents whom we had left thousands of miles away to move here with this monster.   Just then I felt him approach me.  He put his hand on my shoulder and began shaking me.  He threw me up against the wall, and then began smacking my face, left and right.  I wanted to die.  I had to then scrub the rug, not allowed to change my wet clothes he sent me to my dark room  My face hurt so bad, mostly because my earring had gone through and pierced my neck.  

I lay in my bed praying until I heard Brad yell my name.  I entered into the kitchen to see him feeding Brittany chocolate pudding.  He motioned towards a bowel on the table.  Eat he says, but don't sit.  Your mom will have to deal with you.  So I did.  I hated chocolate pudding as a child, but knew I was in trouble good this time, so I ate every bite.  

I wake up to mom wiping me with a warm rag...The next thing I know my big brave uncle is carrying me in a blanket to his pickup and his wife is telling me we were going home, and to rest.   I immediately said what about Brittany.  They told me she was in the car behind us with my other uncle and my mom.  

The next thing I can remember was pulling into the driveway of my grandma and pap pap's house.  Pap had been waiting for us.  He told me that nobody would ever again hurt me, and Brad would no longer be in our lives.  

My mom immediately filed for a divorce, it was one thing for him to beat her around but when she came home and saw the bruises on my face, and the earring still stuck in my neck, she called home.  Where they were all too happy to come 3 states over and take us all back.  Brad being the coward he was took off before my uncles had even gotten there.  

Although he fought the divorce and in a brief moment they did get back together my grandfather would not allow me to go.  My mom conceived my baby sister Janelle.  They didn't last long, Brad was on drugs, and my grandparents completely and totally against any sort of reconciliation. 

My mom raised us all on her own.  Brad eventually got off the drugs, and remarried.  We visited him occasionally.  I never held too many grudges on him although I suppose I never really loved him.  From as far back as I can remember he was a monster.  He'd smash and hit my mom daily, she wasn't allowed out other than go to her jobs.  When he'd bring his friends back from the bar, the 3 of us (mom, Brittany, and I) would go hide in our bedroom until they left.  

Mom did just fine on her own, and I was thoroughly happy that Brad was gone and we were  back in our hometown.  I was raised by a mother who decided no man would ever dominate her again.  That women were just as capable if not more so than men.  We unclogged our own drains, mowed our own grass, fixed our own fires.  Now that I am a grown woman I respect my mother more than ever for raising me with these standards.  I am the most capable and strong female I know and to that I owe my mom.  Not the man that thought he was going to be my dad. 

She never remarried.  She hardly dated. When we were all grown she did meet a man, one that had been widowed young.  They are still together 10 years later.  He treats her good as well as the 3 of us.  Our children all call him 'pappy bob bob'...while mine don't have a relationship with the man I can remember terrorizing myself and my mother.  My sister's children do, he still lives hours away, and they call him pap B. You see he wasn't even my real father, but had adopted me when I was an infant after getting with my mom.  

I hope I didn't drag this on too long.  It's a story I remember all too vividly for a  5 yr old. One I don't think I've ever told another human soul.  My mom is under the impression I don't remember that awful night. After seeing the pictures of my face and the bruises, I decided that NO MAN would ever lay a hand on me again or my sisters.    I'm just thankful my sister don't remember any of the years we spent in VA.   Sometimes divorce is a freedom that is longed for by all. 
abbymay26 abbymay26
26-30, F
3 Responses Jun 5, 2012

you pulled tears from my eyes. I am sorry you had to live through that.

Some people don't deserve to have children... I'm glad it got better for you...

Oh my Goodness! You poor thing! Here I was, expecting to land on yet another simple story about a kid with divroced parents which would then lead me to pity myself because throughout my childhood I've always been the one kid a messed-up family. But no, you've been through hell. And although I've been through nothing as tough as you, my parents also divorced when I was 5, and I know exactly what you mean about remembering all sorts of details so vividly for someone of that age. I have more and clearer memories about those years than the 5 that came after. I guess these things just mark us deeply. I'm surprised that no one has commented yet considering that you're story is heartbreaking and amazingly written. If you have time you should write a book. My mother raised me and my two siblings alone as well and never remarried, and because we weren't very well off financialy, we also did all the stereotypically masculine chores ourselves leading me to build up a similar attitude to life and men as you. I respect my mother too, and the whole experience makes me who I am and has made me strong. I'm just very surprised that you don't seem to expose any negative impact it has had on you. I mean clearly it has. How could it not? But what I mean is..... have you gotten help since? I know that I am still incredibly messed up because of their divorce. Growing up with a father is tough. I used to see him once a year, then once every two years and gradually less and less. I'm 17 and haven't seen him in 5 years now. Sorry, I don't mean to take over your story with my own! He has completly moved on with his ****** life (he has no friends, a rubbish job, drinks and smokes...ect) and shows no sign of wanting to get in contact. Maybe it's because your father was horrible that you don't feel the same thing as me. I just wish my dad could have seen me grow up. I definitely lack in confidence because of his absence. All I want to do is fly over to the USA ( I live in Europe) and visit him, and then yell "I hate you!" in his face. Anyways. I'm glad that you have used the abuse that you received to turn it into something postitive. You are a very strong woman and your younger siblings were very lucky to have you, I'm sure. Feel free to message me. Sorry once again for taking over your story. Bye! xxx

Wow. If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were one of my sisters!! lol!! Everyone tells me I should write a book..I've been through it all. It took me a while to get some help, but I did...Only after I become hooked on pills...It was an amazing way to escape reality. It consumed me after a while, and I sought help..I've been clean and happy now for years. Your young yet, when I was 17..I hated everyone. I wasn't even sure why most of the time. Although I looked happy on the outside, I was dying inside. I looked for the wrong kinds of love from men..and never really found it back then. My mom and I actually went through a rough spot around then too. I was partying a lot with older people. It wasn't until I was on my own at 18 that I realized she was and is my biggest support. I have come a long way since then and for once I'm happy in my life. I don't need a dad. You make sure you keep in touch with me. If you ever need an ear or someone that has been there, don't ever hesitate! I am glad you shared your story too! And truthfully, you don't need that dad...I know Sunday is Father's Day..Well you know what I do? I get my mom a card..every year. Dad's like that don't deserve daughters. Your only better off without. Take that anger and hurt and try and do something positive with it. Write..You wouldn't believe how theraputic it can be. Just don't ever hold it in. It's ok to be pissed off, and to hate his guts....He brought you into this world, yet left you. It's only going to make you a stronger wiser woman! Well I'm rambling now..
Lots of Love to You!