Child Abuse Story From Courtney G

by Courtney G
(Holiday, Florida, USA)

My Life: 
I was the middle child in the family. I lived with my dad in Haverhill with his girlfriend Shannon and her two kids and my big sister. I was about 3 years old. Every time I showed any affection to my dad around Shannon, she would pull me by my hair and beat me upstairs in the spare bedroom. She would smack me and hit me till I cried. She said if I told my dad that she beat me, I would be dead. I was the only one in the house that was beaten and abused.

I always got in trouble for thing's I didn't do. My big sister was always rude to me. She used to punch me and hurt me and tried to suffocate me under my blanket. I tried asking her why she did it to me, but she would just yell at me.

My mom drank a lot and popped pills (her medication). She worked at a restaurant somewhere in Andover. She got home late and always fought with my stepdad. They would argue about their friend's son, about him giving my mom AIDS or something. They always invited creepy guys over to smoke pot.

Every morning I never wanted to get up out of bed, and my mom would beat me with a brush on my head or back when I wined. Those brushes always broke. I had welt marks on my back. She always felt bad afterward and tried to hug me, but I was afraid to go by her, and then she'd get mad again.

When I lived in Lawrence, I had a best friend. One time, I spent the night out at her house. Her dad was drunk. He touched me in places that I wasn't comfortable with. He pulled my panties down and tried touching me. He was doing it to my best friend, his daughter, too. I was only 6 or 7 at the time, in first grade. I didn't know what to do or what to think, so I let him do it. After that, I didn't wanna tell my mom or anyone at all.

About 5 years passed. I was 10 or 11, and living with my little sister, my mom and stepdad. My big sister had moved down to Florida with my real father. I was kind of happy. We lived in the ghetto part of downtown Haverhill, where there were shootings and cops. We lived in a one-bedroom apartment. We girls slept in the same queen-sized bed, my stepdad slept on the couch. I didn't get beat as much.

Then we moved upstairs to the 3rd floor and got a two-bedroom apartment. Everything was going good, until me and my stepdad got into arguments. I felt threatened by him. I was scared he would hit me because he was always drunk and high.

One day, I was crying because I wasn't feeling well. My mom beat me in the head with her fist. It was the first time in a whole long while. I was sick with MONO and hadn't gone to school in 3 week's. My mom didn't bother to call the school and tell them I wasn't going to be at there for a while. She made me get out of bed. Even though I was sick and dizzy and ready to pass out, she made me clean the house because DSS (Department of Social Services) was coming. The social worker said if I missed any more days of school, me and my sister would be taken away.

I wanted to move down to Florida with my dad, so he came to pick me up. When I first moved down, I met a really great friend named Ashley B (see Ashley B's story) Her mom didn't like me at all. She said if Ashley hung out with me, she would've gotten pregnant. I was so sad because we weren't allowed to hang out.

Me and Ashley were always made fun of in sixth grade. Everyone would bully us and call us mean things like "SLUT," even though I could never get a boyfriend because I was so ugly. Sixth grade was the worst.

I'm still friends with Ashley to this day. I am now in eighth grade and I'm 13 years old, going to be 14 on Sunday, May 4, 2008.

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