Child Abuse Story From Nicole B

by Nicole B
(Dryden, Ontario, Canada)

I was young. I can hardly remember all the events. A few stick out in my mind, and reading some stories on this site I realized my story isn't as bad as some others.

My dad had—and still has—this odd job where he flies up north every two weeks for a whole week. He delivers food and fixes computers in northern Canada before returning home to Ontario.

Now, you have to understand that my parents divorced when I was ten, after being separated for over a year.

When my dad came home from his business trips, he was angry and grumpy and everything annoyed him. He yelled at me and my younger brother if we argued, if we left toys out, if we were full and didn't want to eat anymore.

He yelled at the dog and hit him. He was angry. That's all. I don't know why, but his anger was the source of his abuse. It was scary.

One time, he got angrier when it rained and it leaked into the basement. So he dragged myself and my brother outside. We were six and eight. We had to dig a trench by the fence, a trench to stop the rainwater from leaking into the basement. If we didn't dig fast or deep enough, our punishment was a slap.

Another time is when my parents were fighting and my brother and I were playing in his room. My brother was playing with his trains. We could hear them fighting, yelling in the kitchen. I peeked out around the corner and saw my mom throw a cup at my dad. It escalated into more. I remember thinking of my brother, and I asked him to go hide in the closet. Being so young, he asked me why. I told him it was a new game called "Hide from Daddy".

That big fight resulted in my dad being arrested. He wasn't put in jail but he was punished. He had to live elsewhere and was not allowed within thirty feet of our house. If he wanted to visit, my grandma had to take us from one house to the other.

Shortly after that, my parents divorced.

He never physically abused me or my brother after the divorce but his manipulative ways didn't change.

He's remarried now, to a witch that I refer to as "Satan's Spawn" or the "Anti-Christ". She's just as bad in the emotional/verbal abuse as he is.

Everything we do or say results in a long lecture about how wrong we are.

We went ice fishing once. My brother wasn't complaining, he simply stated his hands were cold even though he had gloves on. Well, my step-monster went off about how he isn't cold, just bored and how she should know because she's been an Educational Assistant for twenty-five years. Blah, blah, blah. My brother said he felt like asking her if she knew when he honestly had to pee, or if he was just bored.

Anyway, I hardly visit my dad now. I go on holidays and such but not every other weekend like we're supposed to.

I think it's due to the fact that he lied to me. It was March break and we were supposed to go to Calgary to visit my step-monster's family. I didn't want to go. He said we weren't leaving until Sunday night and he'd drop me off in the morning (Saturday) if I came and visited with him that weekend. He never did drop me off. Whether I enjoyed myself during this trip to Calgary is irrelevant. He lied to me, took me across the country against my will and forced me to visit "Anti-Christ's" family. That was about the time I stopped going for his regular scheduled weekends.

I'm happy to stay at home, though I worry a little when my little brother goes for visits.

The only part that sucks is that sometimes my brother brings home expensive stuff that my dad bought me. Both he and I are positive they're "look what you're missing out on by not coming" bribes.

That's basically my story. Not as sad as most people's, but sad still.

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