Becoming Free

November 21, 2011
By Anonymous

This man was a pure scam artist, a womanizer; he literally “swept” my mother off of her feet, down the stairs of course. He was a fairly tall man, just about your average height for a male, with salt and pepper shaker hair; what I found utterly amusing was, he always attempted to cover his balding head by trying to feather over his thinning hair to cover up his bald spot. He wasn’t a built man, common how can you get a work out from looking at underage girls on the internet all day while you’re fiancé is at work trying to support her daughter oh and yourself of course.

He wasn’t one to try to get a job, well of course he could get an interview but that’s how far he’d really even gotten; how could you when you’ve been to jail because you raped a girl in another state? He was a sweet talker, told everyone what they wanted to hear including my mother’s parents; attempting to help them with chores around their house, so that eventually when he went to court for molesting me, he’d win everyone over, including my mother.

Dennis is his name, he went by David; he was adopted when he was just a baby, although the man is about fifty five he still wants everyone to have a pity party for him. He wants everyone surrounding him to feel bad that he has no real “family”; once his story gets out, he then manipulates everyone that interacts with him to fill the void with free alcohol four out of seven nights of the week, well that’s if he was lucky enough. I’ve met his adopted mother, she’s a lovely lady; but clueless to the fact that Dennis was hiding her grandchildren, let’s just say it’s about five.

The nights he would be out chugging beers while my mother laid her hands on me were nights he wouldn’t come till about five in the morning; because he was cheating on my mother, I knew It and I’d mention it to my mother, but she could care less to believe me. Dennis and my mother were engaged for a year, one night he never came home for about two days; congrats Dennis you did it nine months later my mom found out. She was displeased with the fact that he’d cheated on her but she still continued to stay with him four years later.

The more abuse I’d witnessed and encountered the more insubordinate I became, from getting arrested for shoplifting to getting drunk on the weekends at the age of twelve while Dennis and my mother were out, leaving the house to myself. These things only kept me numb for a while, and then I came to realize I couldn’t handle this any longer.

I was fourteen at the time when I said enough had been enough, I did it for my own sake, no one else’s; this man was a monster, I became to realize that the longer I’d keep this going the more of a monstrosity this whole situation was becoming.

Even after we had went to court and I looked that bastard in the eyes and each and every question I had answered he looked away; two years down the road my mother was still with Dennis, and she still didn’t believe what he had done to me, but that’s her own problem not mine.

He’d hammered her around the apartment, strangling her with the telephone cord and even then she still claimed to be in “love” with him; but as I see it this was a matter of lust.

Eventually she’d left the chamber, she’d became free; I could care less, I was done trying to do everything to please her years before this occurred.

As for Dennis I know he lives in the area, about twenty minutes from my father’s house; I’m afraid that he’ll put another child through this, and I’m sorry. I heard he recently had married this woman with a few children herself, this past summer. I can guarantee you that he’s still jobless and engaging himself in these chat rooms with underage girls; and his wife is clueless of it, I’m sure she is afraid to even ask being fearful of the fact that he may just throw her down a set of stairs.

Ten years down the road I’m sure he’ll end up in jail for some kind of abuse or for rape, or he’ll get a DWI for his excessive drinking behind the wheel; then eventually go and cry to his mother

I don’t want anyone’s pity, nor do I want the party to follow it; I’m at the point of my life where I have reached full closure with the whole situation, I had to do it for myself. Whether or not I have anyone by my side I’ll carry myself in this world with grace, taking all of the experiences I’ve encountered in my past and move forward with the lessons learned that follow them.

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