Child Abuse Story From Hastina

by Hastina
(Florida, USA)

Small Things She's Done: 
I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling wondering what I did to deserve this, when I moved to my side and felt a sharp pain in the left side of my upper torso where I had been thrown into the wall this morning. When the tears welled up in my eyes, I would wipe them away with the back of my hand to only be replaced with new ones. When I fell asleep, the nightmares started. This time it was a replay of what happened this morning. My mom came home and demanded I make her something to eat and get her a beer. Of course, I did what she told me because I was afraid. I knew she would keep demanding beer after beer until she got drunk and began yelling.

She started yelling at my sister for spending money on cigarettes. My sister was yelling back, telling her she was nothing but a drunken fool, and at that moment she hit her across the face and that was it. I started to quickly walk back to my room when my mom came through the door swearing and yelled, "Where the hell do you think you're going, get back here you little brat." Then before I could shut the door she caught me, hit me and through me into the wall in my room. And there I was, locked without dinner for the third day.

The pain was agonizing. My side felt like it was being cut into with a huge sharp knife. When I awoke after having the horrible replay, my mom was standing over me with a knife, plunged it into my side and left. I could see my blood coming out and staining my old white sheets. It was coming out so fast no matter how hard I held the wound. My blue eyes were going blurry and I couldn't move. I tried my hardest to keep my eyes open. I could see my mom leaving with a suitcase. I wanted to scream out but when I open my mouth it was like I had no voice. Then my body went limp and I fell asleep.

When I woke up I felt warm and fuzzy. The pain was gone and when I stood up I saw paramedics rushing into my room with a stretcher and there were cops everywhere. They were talking to my neighbours, some of the many paramedics and to themselves. My only friend was crying hysterically and pointing in my direction. I looked back to where she was pointing and at the paramedics who were pumping the chest of a child. Looking down more closely I realized that child was me and that I was dead. My mother killed me, when I was laying there helpless.

She killed me. Not physically. I was saved in time, but she killed my spirit and soul, my will to live. She makes me live in fear every day. She's the reason I jump when someone touches me.

Additional comments received by Hastina: This site has helped me. I come from a history of abuse of all types and I almost died several times. But I always hid it. I didn't know what else to do. I am still a child being abused by my mother. She just won't stop. No matter how many times I try and find help, no one's ever bothered helping. I've even tried calling the cops. This site gives me hope that children like me might get out before it's too late. It's too late for me. I'm done with life. But I hope others get help. They deserve it. No matter who you are, you should not be hurt for no reason.

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