Child Abuse Story From Alex Part 2

by Alex (Aztec)
(Texas, USA)

My nickname "Aztec" is what my friends gave me a couple of years ago. They said that I had gone through a lot and so they called me that because I was "an Aztec Warrior." I did feel strong at what they called me. But still, I felt too weak on the inside, deep inside my heart.

My brother is 5. He has been through a lot also, and I think that he is too young for it. My mother emotionally abused us a lot, calling us brats and selfish kids. My brother annoyed me so much that sometimes I would get physical with him, and I shouldn't have done that.

One day, I stomped on his foot when we were arguing and he cried a lot. My mom came up to me and asked me why he was crying, and I said, "Go check his foot," sarcastically. I walked towards the computer, past my crying brother. Out of nowhere my mother came running after me. I was shocked. She grabbed my hand and kicked my butt. She was about to do it a second time when I shifted to the left to escape, and she kicked me in the gut. I coughed a whole bunch. Why would she do something like that and then not help me get back on my feet? Instead she walked over to my brother to comfort him. But my brother just looked at me in total shock and cried FOR ME.I smile at that. He actually cares for me. My brother loves me and all, but I have other things, such as school, teachers, friends, books, writing, and all of that stuff included in middle school.

Another day, he was not at our house. He was at his father's house (my once-stepdad) and I was on the computer. My mother stormed into the living room and argued with me that I wasn't that active. Well, Mom, did you know that I've been playing sports my whole life??? Mostly soccer and track! After more arguments, I yelled at her that I hated my family life. I hated it. I hated her boyfriend. I hated the depression I was going through because of her fighting, and her! That's when I stopped. She smacked me hard across the face. I gasped. Then I darted out of our house and ran away. She found me, though.

Later on, in middle school, about a month ago I was supposed to be staying with my teacher's wife to babysit their children. When they got back, I told my teacher that I didn't want to go back home. I didn't want to cry in the corner for so long as my mother yelled things at me. So he had an arrangement where I could spend the night there that day. I didn't think that was entirely appropriate, but at least it was better than at my house. That night, my teacher's family was watching a movie, and they asked me if I could watch it with them. My teacher's wife and children went into the kitchen to make something, I forgot, and I remember sitting on the floor. Before I could notice, my teacher bent down and kissed my cheek. I gasped. What the? I turned around and he kissed me on the lips. It wasn't exactly like how my boyfriend (a guy that asked me out) kissed me, but I didn't do anything. He moved his lips around. I backed off. He smiled and settled back. He apologized and I told him it was okay. I see him every day at school. At least it doesn't feel awkward, but I still can't forget how he kissed me. Unimaginable. For a kid.

A bunch of things have happened this month, but I have recovered from them. One thing was that my stepfather slapped me on the leg a lot. I once again cried in the corner of my room, and I watched my brother cry as hell in front of my mother. I wish this all disappeared. I wish that everything was normal, like a normal kid. I wish my father was living with us. I wish my father didn't have so many problems. But at least he never hurt me, in every way, like my mother and my stepfather.

One thing I ask myself is, What did I do wrong? What did I do wrong to mess up my feelings and my life? 'Cause all I EVER did was be proud of others and watch myself get trampled.

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