For 11 years I suffered, i always thought a father was suppose to protect him children. He wasn't a drunk or on drugs. He was in the Navy and looked like a normal everyday dad on stage, but behind the curtains I was terrified to be alone with only my siblings and my dad in the house. One time I forgot to take out the trash when I was done with my homework and he beat me to a bloody pulp with my mom's belt with the holes all over it and it looked I ran through a rose bush and I had been stabbed 15 times. I was only eight years old then. Three months later I was turning nine and we went to my grandparents and he shoved me down the stairs once every three days for a month because it was during the summer. The last year I spent with him when my parents were still together he stabbed two inches away from my heart because I told what he did to me, my brother for eleven years. The Navy didn't find out because I knew he would kill me for sure. When we went to the hospital he said that someone broke in to our house I cried because I knew I had to lie. I couldn't save myself until my parents had divorced officially. When he came down for a visit I was scared to death, but when my mom told me we would be constantly around family I decided to go, but it was the last time he came to visit I would be scared because we had a fight last time he was here and I was afraid he would beat me again. So I didn’t go. And to this day, I don’t think how much it hurt me when he would beat me.
It Didn't Stop
August 11, 2010