It's all my fault

September 9, 2011
By Anonymous

My mother’s boyfriend, Steve, and I were alone in the trailer. My mom had gone off somewhere with her ex-boyfriend, Nick. It was getting late, maybe around dinner time as I played my room while Steve slept on the couch. Being that I was young, my mom wouldn’t let me cook and I was starting to get hungry. I didn’t really want to wake Steve but my stomach growls were getting louder and louder. I decided to take a chance and left my room.
“Steve?” I asked as I tapped his arm.
He didn’t open his eyes but he let out a deep breath. “What?”
“Um…I’m getting hungry, did you have anything in mind for dinner?”
“Yeah, I’ll get up in a couple minutes.”
“Okay.” I nodded. I left the living room and went back into my room and waited. A couple hours past and I didn’t hear him in the kitchen. It was already getting dark so I decided to go check and see where he was. I walked back out to the living room to see he was still sleeping. I was afraid to bother him again but slowly walked over to him and tapped him on the shoulder.
“What?” He grumbled.
“Um…I was just wondering if you were ready for dinner?”
I watched his jaw tense and I could sense he was angry.
“Where’s your mother?”
My heart started to beat a little faster and I started to feel nervous. I knew how he was when he got mad.
“I…I don’t know. She hasn’t come back yet…”
Everything went quiet. The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
“And you’re hungry?”
Swallowing, I nodded. “Yeah…”
“You! You’re hungry?!” He opened his eyes as he sat up, glaring at me.
“You’re freaking hungry?! Huh?!”
I felt as tears started to form. I couldn’t even answer I was frozen with fear. He got up and strode over to the freezer.
“Come here!” He demanded.
I obeyed and stood on the other side of the fridge. I looked down at the floor so that I didn’t have to look at him. I heard him rummage through the freezer, muttering and cursing under his breathe. He turned to face me, ice trays in hand.
“So you’re hungry, huh? Eat this!” He yelled as he chucked the ice tray at me. It flew past my head, hitting the window before falling into the sink. Some of the ice cubes fell on the floor.
“Are you hungry?! Huh? Are you stupid?!” He bellowed as he took out the box of frozen hamburger patties. Tears streaming down my cheeks, I watched as he chucked it. Again is flew past me and went straight through one of the cabinets under the sink. The wood broke, sending splinters flying to the floor landing in the ice puddles. I stood there, frozen with fear. He continued to mutter and curse and pulled a frozen Turkey from the freezer. I felt myself shake as he glared at me.
“If you’re so dang hungry, eat this!”
I was going to die. I just knew it. Or I’d be knocked unconscious, then who knows what he’d do? He threw it straight at me. It almost hit me but luckily, I jerked a little and got out of the way sending it into the other cabinet under the sink.
“Look what you just did!”
At that moment we both heard a car door. He quickly turned to look at the little window in the door before turning back to me. I sank to the floor and was curled up to the corner in the water and wood splinters, shaking and crying.
He looked at me as though I was an insect and threw me a towel. I winced as the towel landed on my arm.
“Clean your stupid mess up. This is all your fault. You tell your mom what happened; I’ll kill you.” I cried as I wiped up all the water and removed the frozen food from the broken doors under the sink.
My mom walked in all happy until she saw me crying on the floor. “What the happened?”
“Charity had a temper tantrum because I didn’t let her watch her movie so she started throwing things.” He lied as he strolled over.
“Is this true?” My mom asked sternly.
I looked at Steve and felt my body start to shake.
“Yes.” I cried. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugged and walked away as I sobbed quietly to myself.

The author's comments:
This is actually something that happened about six years ago. My mom's boyfriend Steve was very abusive and still is. He was mostly physically and mentally abusive. My mom is mentally and emotionally abusive. Although I don't live with them anymore, some memories like this one still haunt me until this day.

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