Fathers... But are they all so great?

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Brief mention of drugs.

Submitted: December 21, 2011

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Submitted: December 21, 2011

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You all talk about Fathers like they are the most amazing people in the world, groups about how much you love them and how much they've done for you. Google full of pictures of the perfect fathers, think about this a little girl only a couple of months old, already saw violence and abuse from her 'father' to her mother, beatings nearly to death and pain unbearable, luckily I can't remember that as I was at such a young vunerable age, but my older sister wasn't and it has imprinted on her mind. Even now as a young woman she can still remember it, as for me i grew up in wonder of what my dad was like. Thinking he was a superhero with just so much to do he couldn't visit me or even call... No-one stopped to correct me, a picture next to my bed of a man i wished I knew, no money or presents ever seemed to arrive from him but it never stumped my hopes of him. I remember the day, i was in about year 4/5 when I heard them talking. People I trusted to tell me everything, talking about how much of a scum my Father was, of how he beat down my mother and almost killed her till she was forced out the home in pure dread.

I ran upstairs crying, silent tears streaks my cheeks in anger and sadness. I asked my sister if she'd know and she told me she had and sat with me and let me cry reassuring me it's alright. I still besides that wanted to see my Father, my Mother eventually got in contact with him through my grandad and one day he came round. He was almost 7 feet tall, a giant hanging over me and it scared me out of my wits. Me and my sister hugged him and we looked at his hands, I guess I was about in year 6 now and the needle marks were blatent and we weren't stupid we knew what they were. When he had left me and my sister talked about it my sister still loved him and she still does but I knew at that moment there was a more and more overcoming hate for him. I told my mam and she confirmed she'd saw them to, she asked him to get a drugs test but he wouldn't. Now that we're older we see him now and again but barely ever unless my sister asks, I never want his love and have never had it, hate is a powerful word but that's what I feel about him, and not one tiny inch of remorse.

 

So remember when your talking about how perfect your Father is, remember that someone could be reading that and wishing that they were there father.

 


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