Child Abuse Story From Haleigh
by Haleigh
(USA)
Compared to the stories I've read, mine doesn't seem bad at all. Sometimes I even think mine is normal. I had a pretty normal childhood up until I was six or seven. We would go to my cousin's house for Thanksgiving. Me and my cousin would always go around pretending to be spies.
It all started when he took his pants off and told me to touch his "snake." He told me he washed it just for me. He would make me touch it and touch me. This went on for a year or two, until my parents found out.
I think in part they blamed me for it. They were angry and told me I deserved it. He never got in trouble and I was blamed. My parents viewed my twin sister as perfect and would constantly tell me that I was the mistake and the unplanned baby. They wanted one and got two. I was viewed as the unwanted one.
It never got physical until I was about 12 or so. I was just entering middle school. My sister has always been better at math than me, and my dad was a big math person. I would always try my best, but it was never good enough. Report cards would come out and my dad would hold them side by side. I would always be punished and grounded for my shortcomings.
One time after report cards came out, he sent my sisters to a friend's house and beat me with his belt for hours. I could cry and scream but he would only hit harder. This was my motivation to do well in school. In 8th grade, my math teacher saw the bruises and asked me what happened. I told her soccer, as soccer was big in my life.
I finally broke down and cried. I told her how my sister was better than me and I didn't deserve to live. I told her my dad hated me and I wasn't good enough for him. I begged her not to tell, but she did. That night, the school called and the police came and my dad told them I had mental issues from not being in the spotlight.
That night, he broke my wrist and told me if the police ever came again it was to take me away in a body bag. From that night on, I have been too afraid to tell anyone, up until now. He would get mad after drinking or if my grades weren't perfect, or if my soccer team lost. He would blame the loss on me. How I wasn't good enough to be on the team and how I was useless. He would hit me and throw me into walls. I got a job and told him I needed money. In reality, it was my escape. I rarely left the house because he wouldn't allow it.
He found out that my job was more than a job. I made friends and was happy for once. These people didn't know me and didn't judge me based on my sister. To them, she didn't exist, and I was fine with that.
Everything changed though. He would punch my face and push me against walls. People at work started to notice, and I told my manager for fear he would call my parents. Someone there called my school and told them what was going on. I denied it, but it got back to my dad.
He would twist my wrist so hard I thought it would snap in half. He cracked two of my ribs. He told me that I deserved this and I liked the attention. He said if I ever tried to call anyone he would tell them I asked for it and that he would kill me.
I'm 17 now and still try to avoid my dad. I've wanted to kill myself and have suffered depression and anorexia and bulimia. My dad still hits me and I still fear what will happen if anyone notices. My sisters don't know what I go through and partly, I hate my twin. She sets me up to get in trouble and constantly thinks she is better. My mom knows, but doesn't do anything.
Sometimes I wish I wasn't born. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if my dad would leave. Soccer is still big, and whenever people ask about my bruises, I tell them soccer. Most people believe me because it's a contact sport and I was on varsity for two years. But for now, I can't wait to leave.
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