Child Abuse Story From Amanda
by Amanda
(Heber Springs, Arizona, USA)
My mom and my dad got divorced when I was 4. My mom got custody and my dad got weekend rights. Things were still good even though they were divorced. We still all got along.
One day, this man knocked on my mom's front door and said his wife kicked him out and he wanted to know if he could stay at my mom's. Things were ok for a year or two. I was in the first grade when my mom started to tell us that we couldn't eat food. She wouldn't let us eat at home so we thought school food was the best thing for us. We finally got to eat. After a little while of lying to my mom about me eating at school, I just gave up and told her how good the food was that day. After that she made us stick our fingers down our throat and make us throw it up as soon as we would get home. So then I figured my dad would make sure we had something to eat on the weekends. I thought it would be alright. When my mom found out from my our other 2 sisters that we ate at our dad's house she would not let us go with him anymore, unless we changed our ways. We tried really hard to please her. But no matter what I did, it wasn't good enough for her.
I can remember one time that my mom asked me if I ate the ice cream. I told her no because I didn't sneak behind her back to eat it. I knew who ate it, but I wasn't going to tell on them. Well, my mom chased me all around the house till I got pinned between the wall and the couch and couldn't move anymore. She took that spoon and started to beat me in the head. I blacked out. I don't know how long I was out, but when I woke up my mom was kicking me in the ribs. I opened my eyes. When I looked up at the ceiling, everything was spinning. When I tried to get up off the ground, I couldn't move. My head hurt so bad. When I finally got up, she let me go to the bathroom. My head was swollen black and blue. It stayed like that the whole summer, so I wasn't allowed to go to my dad's. I couldn't go outside and play with everyone else. When company came over, I had to go and hide in the bedroom.
When I went back to school again the next year I had a new bruise every day. So I was called to the office so they could examine me. They would ask how it happened. I would have to tell them what my mom told me to say. But one day, I forgot and when they asked me more than once I slipped and told them a completely different story. So later on that night at home, DHS came to the house and took me to a foster home. I was so scared. Not for me, but for my twin who had to stay there and put up with it. I slept that night and then the next day we were supposed to go and do stuff. We were leaving when my mom and stepdad pulled up. I left with them. They took me to a mental institution, telling everyone I was crazy. I didn't care what she told them, it was freedom for me. I thought well maybe this way, when I got out, my mom would love me and let me know how much she did.
The last day came at the mental institute. They picked me up and we went and ate as a family. When we got home, things changed again. It was like she missed hitting me. I couldn't at the time figure out what I'd done wrong. I'd been gone all this time, what could I have done wrong.
But then my mom got put in the hospital. My stepdad was at the house with us. He would go around completely naked. Then he would make me and my three other sisters take off our cloths and he would touch us. It was really scary. When my mom got home I told her what he did. She hit me across the face as if I was a liar. No one else would tell her. My stepdad left and later on that night he was really drunk when he got back. He pulled me out of bed and made me sit at the kitchen table. My mom was standing there. I was looking at her for help. When I turned to look at him, there was a barrel of a gun touching my head. I cried and screamed for help. With that gun pointed at my head I knew it was over, so I just quit fighting. I told him to go ahead and shoot me. He pulled back on the trigger and there was no bullet. I fell onto the floor, trying to breath. I was 7 years old. I remember running away. I was hitch-hiking, thinking someone could see the fear in my eyes and pick me up. Anything was better than being with my mom and stepdad. The only car that picked me up was my mom.
My mom sat on top of me when we got home and put hairspray and Dawn dishwashing liquid in my eye. It burned. I tried so hard to push her off of me, but no matter what I did I couldn't mover her. I didn't have the strength or the power to do anything. She locked me in a closet that night, so I couldn't rinse it out. I was up all night long. Then I had to get up and get ready for school. She brought me this outfit to wear so I couldn't go to the bathroom. I got to school and I couldn't even read the board...I was crying, and rubbing my eye. The principal came and got me and we went back to the every day routine. They marked new things on my body. They asked what happened. This time, I couldn't lie. I was afraid if I didn't tell I was going to die. If I didn't tell I was sure they would kill my twin. I saw my mom walking outside. I gave up and said she did it. I begged them not to tell her. I told them that if they did, she would kill me. My mom finally got to the nurses office, and they told her to take me to the doctor, so she did. When we left the doctor's office, she took us home. An hour later, the cops came. I was in a different school than my sisters, and I was afraid I would never see them again. My grandma on my dad's side took 6 of us kids in, two of which was no blood to her. She did that so we would always have each other.
I was finally in a safe place. My grandma asked me if I was hungry. She could tell I was hungry - I was so little. She cooked me dinner. I told her I was tired so I went to sleep. I don't remember anything for a year. I remember eating and sleeping...didn't realize I had been going to school...playing with the neighborhood kids...having a life. Something happened to my grandma, so we moved to live with another family member. I would have nightmares that my mom was going to come and kill me when she got out of jail. My other family member finally asked me why I wasn't asleep. I told her I was tired of having those dreams. It scared me. I asked her if she thought it would be a good idea to write my mom. After a long pause she said it would be ok.
I went to work and asked them if I could use their address so she couldn't know who I was with. They let me. I waited and waited for her to write back. When she did, I no longer had those nightmares of her trying to kill me.
I talk to my mom when I feel like talking to her. I forgive her for what she has done. But I will never forgive my stepdad.
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