Growing up, I had a really good childhood. My parents divorced when I was 2 years old. My Dad is a great Dad. Always picked me up every other weekend. Never missed one.

I lived with my Mom during the week. She was a good Mom. Always taught me to be polite, caring and made sure that I had a good education.Unfortunatly, her boyfriends mostly were first.

I can remember from the time I was 4 that she had many different ones.

When I was 6 years old, she met a man who we would live with for about 8 years. He was a very nice man. He moved us into his beautiful two story home. We always had a family date night. He made sure that I never felt left out or un-loved. I liked him very much but at the same time, I was unsure if it was ok to. Was I betraying my Dad by liking this man? Will my Dad be mad at me? Thankfully, my Dad and step-father ended up getting along well. This made me feel a bit at ease. Although my step-father was a great guy, he was very strict. Ex Navy Seal, the environment sometimes felt like boot camp.

I some how was always grounded, had to do hours of reading a night, and had to keep any noise down. I was angry sometimes. All the kids my age could hang out after school, have fun, and just be themselves.

By the time I was 13, I started to rebel. I learned how to play the bass and guitar and found myself expressing my frustration and anger through my music. I became disrespectful towards him.

At that time, I never realised that he was only being strict so it would benefit me in the long run.

After my 8th grade graduation, my Mom took me to my Grandmothers house to celebrate. There she met another man. A worthless man who was living in his car, freeloading off of everyone. For some reason she became infatuated with him. She then began seeing him every day. I felt guilty. I desperately wanted to tell my step-father about what was going on but at the same time, I was still angry at him for being so strict.

I soon found out that this new guy had gotten her involved with drugs. Speed. She then began messing up at work. Drained her bank account for him. It was disgusting.

My poor step-father was so blind. He noticed nothing. Or maybe he chose to look past it.

On my 14th birthday, my Mom brought her new fling to our house along with my recently paroled sister. She introduced him as my sisters new boyfriend. I was so disgusted. They were all hanging out, playing darts in the garage.  Everytime my step-father left to go inside, they were all over each other. I couldn’t wait for that night to end. She ended up telling the truth about who he was a few days later. He was amazed that she could do something like that. He asked her to please leave. We did.

We went to my Grandmothers house. (At that time, my Grandmas and Grandpa were on vacation.) My sister had the house to herself. It was a party every night. I honestly enjoyed it at first. I had always felt like I had a ball and chain on all the time, I could finally have some freedom. My Mom was always away with the new one anyways. I noticed the drug use was getting worse and worse. Her stories of paranoia were told all day long.

One night, she was on a drug rage and attacked me in front of my sister. My sister became upset and pushed her and told her to leave. Alone there with my sister, she convinced me to “try a little speed”. Biggest mistake ever. I didn’t like it. I felt horrible. But realising that my Mom was once again choosing a man over me, I kept doing it. I just wanted to feel different. I was hoping that some how I would forget or die. I just wanted my Mom. The Mom I used to know.

A few weeks later, my Mom decided that she no longer wanted me. She took me to my Dad’s house at 8 pm at night. I had not seen my Dad all summer. I was so ashamed of my drug use I just stayed away. When we arrived, we found him outside crying. My step-mother had commited suicide two days before. He found her dead in the kitchen when he came home from work.

My Mom some how turned the situation about her and told my Dad “I can’t handle her you deal with her. You can have this little b*tch now.” I was so hurt and angry. I secretly continued my drug use. My Dad started to notice after a few months. My mom had gotten in touch with me and in my head I thought that I could continue my drug use if I go back with her. Unfortunatly, I did. I moved with her and her boyfriend. (Still the same druggie that she left my step-father for.)

My sister ended up going back to jail after I went with my Dad. So she was now out on parole again. She came for my 15th birthday. It was party time! After weeks of partying, I got sick. I was born without a thyroid gland and I have to take a pill daily. I had not had my medicine in about a week. I was starving and weighed only 98 pounds. I asked my Mom to please get me something to eat and if we could please get my medicine. She said no. She traded the food for drugs and didn’t have time to take me to the Dr. “Do another line, you’ll forget all about it and feel better.”

I was tired. I wanted to go back to my Dad but I know I must’ve hurt him badly by leaving. A few days later, I was taking a shower. I heard noise. “I’m in here”, I yelled. I still hear noise. The shower curtain then was pulled open. It was him. Her disgusting boyfirend. I screamed and yelled. He put his hand over my mouth and was telling me to shut up. I was fighting as hard as I could. I was so weak. He then began to rape me. I was terrified. My mom was home. She was in the next room. Maybe she went outside? Why wasn’t she there to help? When would this end? Please just stop or let me die. Thats all I could think. It finally ended.

Was this real? It was. I didn’t know what to do. He threatened to hurt me and my Mom if I told. I was never the same. He was gone one day. My Mom was home. I wanted to take a quick shower. I was so scared. I hurried as fast as i could. Any noise would make me flinch. I turned the water off quickly. There he was again. Am I just hallucinating or is this real? It was real. It happened again. I scratched, fought, and screamed. She was in the next room! Why won’t she help? It finally stopped. I couldn’t take it anymore. I dressed my self. I was distraught. I ran to her screaming, crying, shaking. She did not comfort me. I told her what happened. I begged her to call the cops. I begged her to do something. “Why won’t you help me?” i repeatedly yelled. Help! Help! She slapped me. Told me to shut up. “Why do you think I’ve been able to stay high? I have no money and nothing left to sale” She had sold my guitar, bass, and amp and everything elae of value. “I know whats been going on. I know. Thank you. For this I’ve been able to stay high.”

She knew the whole entire time. She let him do it to stay high, How could you sit there and plan to let this happen? My mother. The woman who gave birth to me. Disgusting. The cops ended up coming out. A neighbor had heard the screaming. I told what happened. I was taken to my Aunts house. The case ended up being dropped. Turns out her was an informant for the police department. They were using him to get to a bigger drug ring and couldn’t lose him as a part of the sting. I was hurt once again. I would get no justice. I had nothing more to do with my Mom.

That was the last time I seen her. He had later poisoned her and set the house on fire. They were able to save her. She is still with him until this day. I have tried my best to put all of the memories of what happened behind me but I can’t. It comes back to me and I am bitter and angry and sad and so much more. I’m screaming inside to be healed. I want to be happy and the loving person that I always was. But now, this is me.