Little Amy Larson was four years old when it all began. Her mommy and daddy divorced and Amy was sent to live with her mommy. For the first couple years, it was great! Her mommy spoiled her beyond belief. But as Amy got older, her mommy began to drink more and more often. Soon her "mommy" became her "mom," then finally "mother." Amy was seven then. The beatings began in second grade when Amy cried in school. The principal wondered if Mr. Larson ever called to talk to Amy. Of course, he hadn't. His "little angel" was part of the past, a mistake. Amy's mother was furious. It started out as a slap across the face, the sound of hand hitting the delicate flesh echoed throught the silent house. Amy was eight. It progressively got worse until little Amy was fifteen years old. By this time, she was coming to school with black eyes, bruises all over her body, and burn marks on her shoulders. No one had noticed Amy until her sophomore year. People began to see her bruises. They reported it to the school but the officials couldn't do anything about it yet. Amy was sixteen when it all ended. I refuse to write that she went to a foster home or her mother stopped beating her. This tale does not end like that. Amy's tale ends on a tragic note, the death of a young woman. Her mother didn't kill her but she might as well have laid her hands on her and done it. The funeral is to be held in two days for another teenager suffering from abuse and depression.
Mama, it hurts.
January 10, 2010