Sara Brotherton, a life story

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic
A life story. full of every emotion possible.

Submitted: January 20, 2015

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Submitted: January 20, 2015

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I am coming to grips with the reality of what I am about to write....it's hard....and harsh. But here it goes... post by post...so bear with the breaks.... I lived in a trailer court. My mom...dad...brother...and 3 sisters. My mom tried so hard to give us a good life. she didn't want us to be hurt...sad..crying...she worked her ass to the bones to put food on the table while my dad did nothing....She was in school...as a meat cutter...my dad however...our caregiver. He also bathed us...and gave me my first look at evil...bath time was the worst! His hands creeping between my legs....I was 5....I was innocent...he knew it was wrong but it was a test...to see if I'd cry...to see if I'd tell....I didn't. 3 days later he was painting my bedroom...asking if anyone wanted to help...I did. I loved painting. A few minutes before I could dip the brush and I was face up...pillow smothering my face...screaming for my mother....she didn't come...nobody came...I couldn't breath....the pain...the pain...the blood....I cried so hard...and he wouldn't stop....I couldn't move...Please someone help.....Then my entire world went dark....it was over. I wanted to say something...I wanted comfort...but I couldn't tell. He said he'd kill everyone....I couldn't.....

Time went by....I wanted to tell my mom everything but he was every where....in my dreams...in my nightmares...watching what I said...threatening my life...he was there. I couldn't sleep...barely ate...and nobody noticed. I was alone. at 5. I was all alone with this secret.

A few times I was free....I went as far away as I could. Playgrounds down the street...friends houses...anywhere but home. Home was dark. Home was a prison. There was a laundry mat that held bingo for kids...and I'd go as much as I could...The lady was nice. the kids were nice....nobody could hurt me. I got snacks and wasn't hungry I could have lived there...in a dryer...warm...and safe. And I wanted too.

Sometimes life was good....we'd have movie nights....we'd go out for dinner....my mom would read me books...sing to me...play with my hair...and I loved her. I loved him. It was my family.Once in first grade...I had gotten a good grade on a test so my treat....was to ride along with mom and dad to the junk yard....I got to buy a box of Mike and ikes which trust me was a real privilege. I felt like I was on cloud 9 just because I was given candy. And for that second...my parents loved me. And they were nice to me. And I was so proud of me. I didn't know it was wrong..maybe everyone lived this way....was I crazy? Was I wrong for loving him? Was this how everything worked in life? 

My brother..my sisters and I got a pool one summer. It was just one of those little snap together pools...but we LIVED in it....it was AMAZING to us...and one day we decided to play \"catch the brick\"...so my oldest sister tosses me the brick and for some reason I looked away....it landed on top of my head.....splitting my head wide open....I ran screaming to my mom....bleeding...gaping wound on the head...and she just cleans away the blood....washes my hair...sits me down..and ties my hair into tiny braids to hold it closed. we didn't have the money for a doctor I'm guessing....or she was afraid that might actually involve Child services.

The dreams: I'm not really sure how to put this in perspective for you...imagine several bags of bricks...placed on your shoulder...and being forced to carry it for days...not ever being allowed to put it down...and using it for blankets at night. That is how utterly weighed down I felt....The dreams would be terrifying...and some were calm. I had this one every night...of me holding a tire...by a strand of hair...between two fingers...and I had to hold it there...and not allow it to break...it was a strange dream....that I think signified the stress. The tickle dream...where an evil man was tickling me and would never stop... The good dreams...were the man. The black man...in white...holding my hand...walking down the street..telling me not to worry....that everything would be okay and I would be just fine. It was warm and safe there....I wanted to stay in those dreams.

I started Kindergarten. I remember the smell of cupcakes and apple juice in my classroom. I didn't want my mom to leave me...I wanted her touch...I wanted her safety...but she pried my little hands off and left me. AND I LOVED IT!! I was FREE!! My teacher was so nice...so calm...nobody yelled...I got to play...It was the best thing EVER!! But going home after...and showing my amazing work was not going to fly with Dad. He tossed it in the trash and told me to get cleaning. Refusing would land a hand across my face....and the bruises how they built up. The next day at school the teacher would look at me...with a sad face...and she knew...but she never asked. She never once told anyone...it was her secret now too.

Then the days came when everyone wanted to play outside...and everyone could....except me. I was the slave to him for at least an hour. The rape would go on over and over...until it was time for somebody to arrive home. He would throw me into a shower....tell me to clean myself up....and walk away like nothing had gone wrong in the world. It was normal for him. He would tell me my mother knew....that she hated me...that she wished I was dead...That he wished I was dead. And would promise that soon...I would be.

I don't remember turning six....or any age after that..all I knew was that other kids were happy....and I hated myself. I felt dirty...I felt weak...I felt ugly. I wondered if my sisters...if my brother....were being hurt as well. I found out once...I woke in the middle of the night....and my father was raping my sister...in the same bed as I...right next to me. I wanted to help her...I wanted to cry...But I didn't. I lay as still as I could...in fear I'd be next. I failed her. I hated that I failed her. I wanted help....I begged for God....I begged for the Devil....I just wanted someone....anyone....

The worst time.....I stayed home sick. I had the flu....nobody was home but him and I. He grabbed a fishing string...tied it around my neck....tied it to his bed post with me on the floor hanging slightly. And did his worst. If I moved even an inch....I'd be hung. I had to take the pain. I had to stay still or die. and a few times....I wanted to drop to my knees and end it. I was 6/7....and I wanted to die. When he was done...he'd tear the rope off and tell me I was a good girl. And next time I should be as good as I just was.

As bad as what he did was....I tried not to flinch. I had awesome toys...like my star wars ewok village and my zugly doll to keep me company. I played with my siblings...and got outside to ride my big wheel as much as I could. When he was gone...I was happy. Nobody was upset and even mom seemed happier. The days he was gone....I slept. I used to have dreams of this black man...he would take my hand...walk me down the street and tell me every thing was going to be okay soon.... I remember those dreams still today....and soon I'll tell you what he meant.

Around 7 Was when the drug parties started. Men and women in and out....smoking weed....snorting coke off the coffee table...drinking heavily....the music was always so loud....Bob seger at his finest. I walked out once and saw a threesome...I was only told to go back to bed...like it was no big deal....but then again it was 1987....it probably wasn't a big deal. This was a regular event...school nights...work nights....no matter.

The beatings. Oh my God the beatings were horrid. My mom would try to protect us....and he'd throw plates at her....busting her skin open...and she took it. The belts would tear at my skin....the scars on my body still exist. Nobody was safe from him. He was like pure evil in a mans body. Satan himself. And sometimes he would come to me....and he would cry to me...and he would say how very sorry he was....I'm sooo sorry SARA....forgive me SARA....I love you SARA...and he would plead.....and I would cry...and he would stand up...and slap me as hard as he could. I wasn't crying enough....I wasn't forgiving him enough...

I begged for him to stop hurting me. But he would tell me I was his special girl. He had a tattoo on one arm....that was only my name...my siblings were in a scroll on his other arm...I was HIS. ONLY HIS. He said he loved me and I was so little I thought that was love. But I knew enough to drop clues to mom...I'd wipe the blood on my underwear....she did the laundry....she HAD to see it right??? but she didn't. or she didn't admit she did...I'd tell her I hurt there...but she'd brush it off as an infection...Then finally I stopped wearing panties all together....I thought if I was naked he couldn't take them off....he wouldn't hurt me....maybe mom would ask why I wouldn't wear underwear....but nobody did.

Days and days would go by....and he'd tell me how if my mom would put out more...he wouldn't need to hurt me....and he wouldn't hurt her if she'd stop bitching all the time...and how he hated us all so much. He'd ask how I want to die....he said he had a gun and could make it quick....and if I dare ever say anything....he'd kill my mom while I watched....and that would be my death. To suffer as an orphan. I'm deathly afraid of pillows over my face to this day. To muffle my screaming...to stop my breathing...to snuff me out.

I needed a reason to cry. SHUT UP OR I\"LL GIVE YOU A REASON TO CRY!!!! If I cried when he hit me....I was supposed to shut up. Like good kids do. Just shut up....he said...

 

My mom....oh my mom....she was so strong. she didn't know. she worked so hard. she wanted me to live...to be happy....to be Sara...to be her happy Sara,,,,and I used to get bad migraines...and she'd rub my head....and I was so happy. with her. she was my life. my safe spot. and he would hurt her so bad. He'd toss her aside like rags....punch her....kick her....spit on her...and she took it all to stand in between us. And she wanted help....but it was hard. she didn't want to be all alone...we had no money. we had nothing. but she did everything she could to try and help us when she was home.....but she had to leave....she had to go to school....she had to work.....ohhh mom....

In between beatings and rapes...I tried hard to be normal. I loved watching the people's court...and wrestling with my brother...we'd fight over who was hulk Hogan and who was mr.T....I liked the days that I didn't have to be so afraid. But those were rare....and Dad's temper was out of control and unpredictable. One time my little sister ran over to him....she only wanted to hug him but accidentally kneed him in the nuts....he grabbed her by her arms and flung her into the wall across the room. She was so little....I was only around 6 then...but I wanted to protect her. From him.

Christmas morning 1988....I got what I wanted. a kids cd player. it was a little fisher price cd player that I could sing along with....I LOVED it....it was the best toy EVER....and I played with it all day...apparently too long because my mom and dad got into a fight...and as she held her arms around me he threw it as hard as he could...at me. He busted it on my shin. My leg poured blood and my toy was broken into pieces. I wasn't worried about my pain...I was so used to it that the toy being broke hurt me more. I wanted it so bad.

As i sat crying about the toy he slipped off his belt....snapped it in a way that still makes me cringe...and said the famous NEED A REASON TO CRY words....I jumped across my bed....trying to hide...but it was no use...he saw me...he found me...the leather found my face....and it stung...and my tears stung in the open wounds...it was a bad beating that day. Nobody was spared. My mom...my sisters..my brother...we all had wounds that day.

I loved school so much as an outlet....but I was outcasted even there. I had dirty clothes....dirty shoes with holes...dirty hair full of lice...I was dirty. I was poor..beaten...and lost. The teachers knew it. The look of sadness on their faces said it all....they knew. but nobody called the state. Nobody wanted to help us..and I almost gave up hope that we would ever be found.

The night my mom TRIED to get away is still vivid. She found a \"friend\"...and my dad knew it I guess....She went out....we were home with dad....when she came home she had the \"friend\" with her....and the yelling was soooo loud....and the sirens...the police...the blood on the floor...dad had stabbed him....and ran away...and the police came back...wrapped us in blankets and walked us through the house...through the blood...past our crying mother...as they went to look for dad.

They found him. Took him to jail. He wasn't gone long....a couple days later and the blood had been cleaned...dad was home and life was back to their version of normal. Why she didn't leave then was concerning. Why the cops didn't pull us then....where was the state help?? The system had failed us....again.

A glimmer of light:::: Nick. The fruity pebble song man. A friend of moms...he'd sing us fruity pebble songs....it was hilarious and he felt safe. I loved him. I wanted him to be my dad. I was 9. My mom wanted to go out with her friends...she was going to leave us with Nick...and even though I loved him....I freaked out....I begged her not to go....i screamed....and then.....it happened. She grabbed my hand....she took me into her room...and she asked the all important question....\"why are you afraid? Does your dad hurt you\"? and that was it.....I broke down.....I told her everything....and she cried with me....But she already knew. My sister had already told...and my grandmother was already in route to the police.

About 20 minutes went by that seemed like forever...and dad comes home from fishing...Mom asked him if he had done what I said....He looked shocked....busted his fishing poles...and walked out. I didn't see him again. He was arrested. Sent to prison on a 17 year conviction.....and I thought life would get better. I was wrong...again.

The whole world was turned upside down after that....Mom lost her Man...that yes she still loved and very much wanted to be with still....and we felt the waves. We moved into a HUGE house with another boyfriend of hers. Terry. He was cool and all but she wasn't happy. They ended up breaking up....and mom went into a spiral of her own...depressed...angry...lost...soooo she turned on the gas. Locked the house. closed the windows...and went to bed. Had my aunt not showed up I'd probably really be dead today.

grandma to the rescue. She took my brother. For good. the rest of us were split up between family members while mom got help. I got the short stick and ended up with the aunt that did crack and used all the money grandma gave her to buy me clothes on herself. Lucky me.

This lasted a couple months...When mom got better we got to go home. And she did seem better...she seemed happy..she had new friends and we moved into a nice house with her friend Vicki and her kids. It was okay...it wasn't homeless. All was well until the day we got lice....again....and for some reason they thought dumping kerosene on our heads would \"cure\" it.....so I went to school for weeks smelling like kerosene...I remember walking into class and the smell was so bad nobody could breath....I ran out crying and had to explain it to a teacher who again DID NOTHING to help me. just sent me home. humiliated once more...

The days went by...I got by....I lived the best I could. I was happy I wasn't being raped anymore...but I was still very much lost. I was confused...young...When I was 12 my sister Kim and I started our reign of the world. I took charge of my life....my siblings did what they wanted...and my mom pretended to care. I started stealing from stores...drinking...running away...doing drugs...and having sex with whoever wanted it. I felt like the lowest...filthy..used up trash in the world and I didn't even care any more.

I stayed in dirty apartments with grown men and my sister just daring the cops to find me....I'd slit my own wrists for fun...and in hopes someone might notice....maybe even help me.... another Christmas morning I had taken a razor blade to half of my face....when my mom saw it....she didn't get me help....she called me a stupid bitch. I was 12 years old. and she called me a stupid bitch.

I legit wanted to die. to d.i.e. i was over it. I couldn't understand how God could do this to me. Why did I deserve this? What did I do to be punished like this? Why does everyone hate me?

If my sister hadn't been with me I would have jumped off the nearest bridge and called it a day. but I was so worried about leaving her alone. and while I was out....tramping the town at 12....mom found another man. My current step father. He was the main focus of her life. We again...took the back burner to her dependency. So we ran away more....we were gone for days sometimes...weeks....they'd eventually find us.....try to return us....but we'd be gone before the cop car pulled away. We hated home. anything was better than home. anything at all. when we started running away my sister and I would sleep anywhere we could...I recall cramming into the cubby holes in basements of friends houses to sleep. We were wanted by the police for being runaways so nobody could find us. The parents had no idea we were even there at all.I'd have guys sneak me in and I'd sleep in their beds....Being promiscuous was not a concern to me. it was all I knew by that time, having sex was my normal at 12. Living off of food we would steal off bread trucks behind grocery stores was normal to me at 12. I just wanted to escape....I just wanted to not feel anymore...and I tried anything to accomplish it.

The day came when we couldn't run much longer....my sister and I were arrested....Thrown into kid jail...and sent to an in town care center for troubled kids.....my sister was sent to a larger lock up...I waited...for a foster family to come along.....I had such horrible anger issues....They tried to make me see a therapist but the lady kept saying she understood me...that she knew where I was coming from....but she didn't. she grew up with a silver spoon in her mouth...her parents loved her...they adored her...she had never been beaten...or raped...and it pissed me off that she thought she could fix me....

My oldest sister......was basically left to \"mother\"us... my mom had several jobs and slept or worked. If we needed to see a doctor or dentist...My sister would take us...and she hated it. She hated having to be responsible at a young age...she went through the same horrific acts as I endured and she was never allowed to recover...she was never allowed to have her own life because the rest of us needed someone to help feed and clothe us. My mom would leave the book of paper food stamps on the table and we'd go buy what was needed. Or we'd steal them and buy candy with it. Nobody cared what we did. My sister got tired of it after a while and just checked out...got her own life...my other sister kim and I....we ran away...and Amanda....well Amanda was left. Alone. With nobody to care for her. We forgot about her. I'm not even sure still...how she pulled through.

By the time I was 13-14...My family didn't matter much to me anymore....the state had stepped in by then and whisked us all away. And my mom couldn't have been happier! she was remarried quickly...Had a new job....different house...and us kids?? we were sitting in foster care...and lock up. All we needed was a little of that love....but we were already damaged. Unfixable. Bitches she would say...trampy..little whore bitches that would never amount to anything. She hated us in her house...around her new family...

so i rebelled. I fought with them...with the other kids...i hated everybody. and foster home after foster home Id lie...steal...and make them not want me. Until Dave and Laurie. They were like light from the heavens....they were nice...they were beautiful. I wanted to be part of their world. They were so careful with me...they knew what to say and what not to say. They understood me. that my life was a wreck....they wanted to love me.

I left the home to live with Dave and Laurie. They had a small farm house...that smelled like hogs. It was gross and in the middle of nowhere. perfect place for a kid like me. They gave me a room...food...rules...and love. And I wanted to be there. I rebelled so hard...I tested them....I snuck out with people I shouldn't have been with....I did drugs....they had a DHS worker once come flip my room upside down looking for the drugs...I had them in my pocket. nobody checked my pockets. Sorry Dave and Laurie.

Eventually my behavior got out of hand and I too was sent to lock up. It was a residential treatment facility for teens. I hated it. everyone did. It was a joke. In lock up....Forest ridge in Iowa...I just tried to follow the rules. I ate when told to eat...I went to school and got okay grades...I tried not to fight...I just wanted to be good so they would allow me to see my sister, who was also there. We would make up horrible lies about fake family members so we could talk for 5 minutes. They bought every story I ever told them...and I was proud that I could manipulate people so easy. It was a big joke to me...I didn't understand why I was being punished for what my family did to me? Why wasn't my mom in jail? The court system....child services....locked me up and threw away the key....they had failed me my whole life....they never once helped me....my teachers wouldn't help me...nobody wanted to HELP me....just remove me. I was being PUNISHED.....for what someone else created in me. I was only being a horrible kid because I wanted SOMEONE>>>>ANYONE....to listen to me.I was there for 2 years. when my time was up Dave and Laurie came back for me. They took me home again. And back to school I went....trying again to be normal...to be a teenager in the real world. I had a boyfriend...I had friends...I also still had my sadistic nasty side....

Back at the foster home...I blended in better....they were kind to me. I had a great Christmas full of love...I went to a great school...had great friends...had a boyfriend that i loved a ton...I was 16...I was HAPPY...for a while. Dave and Laurie bought me my first car...a 1979 Chevy caprice classic. It was brown and I named it the \"turd\"...complete with rear window stickers...and I LOVE IT!! Dave taught me how to drive...and before long I had my license. I was living how a 16 year old should live. I had a job at Pizza Hut...and everything was chill. I prayed to any God that would listen....That this be my life from now on. That this be my home....but it just wasn't to be. One night after work..I was 17.. I was supposed to go to a family friends house..instead..I went to my boyfriends. By the time I had actually arrived at the friends...my foster parents were waiting... and Shit hit the fan. arguing...fighting...me speeding away in my car...when we all got home...I flipped out. that is when I punched the window...cut open my arm...and started world war 5...everyone was super angry...although I'm sure it was me...pushing them to breaking point....The next day...is when I left them. I went even further into the darkness...

I had sex on a regular basis...still smoked meth...got drunk....and disobeyed everyone. At 17 I was ruining my entire life.The day came when my foster parents had reached a boiling point....as did I....we got into a fight and I put my hand through a couple windows....I called my mom...and left the foster home. I convinced social services it was the best choice for me...and I moved home. and they let me.I started attending an alternative school....for bad kids....with bad grades....and then...I met Billy. I wanted to love something....someone so bad that I clung to him. night and day it was Billy. More meth....more booze...more hate. I dropped out of school...and started living at a meth house...eating at homeless shelters...soup kitchens....anything I could get.

 

After a couple months I realized what I had done...started going to school again...joined the Army....and went home. It was all well and good for a while until I couldn't handle the structure... the pressure...and when I got home from The army life my money was gone....my car was wrecked...and Billy was still in my moms house. So I moved with him....to Texas. and his father.From day one being gone I realized the mistake I had made....My mother told me not to do it....she warned me....but I went anyway. and He beat the living shit out of me. every single day. Into submission. into obedience.He tied me to sinks in hotel bathrooms...and he would kick me until my ribs bruised...until my face bled.....I lost weight quick...I wasn't allowed to eat...I wasn't allowed to talk...I wasn't even human to him. I was like a pound puppy he thought he could starve.

About 2 months after we moved he let me eat....he needed money. he needed me to work. I had to clean up....and get a job. and I did. I helped open a new waffle house...and everyone loved me. I was so good at hiding the fucked up life by now that it was second nature...I worked...Billy took my checks. I only ate after that what ever was given to me free by my boss at work....After they got sick of living in Texas we moved to Texarkana. into a huge homeless shelter that scared the shit out of me. I was barely 18 and this was my life??? I had to sleep on the floor...on a small mat with only a sheet. alone. and cold. we'd get woken up at 5am to get out. we had nowhere to go so we walked the streets....until Billy found me a job at a warehouse filing papers. I worked everyday...and got enough to move into a motel. a crappy motel with druggies and prostitutes outside all the time. Billy liked that. someone new to have sex with. I was only a paycheck by then....he beat me...but stopped making me sleep with him.

The more money I made...he must have been saving...we ended up getting an apartment and I got a new job at a taco tico....they hated me for being white. seriously. But I went because taking the shit from them was better than Billy....when I'd get home he'd beat the crap out of me again...he'd find any reason to hit me. Someone must have heard once because the police showed up....and I was soooo happy thinking I'd have an out...but we had this wall....that divided our dining room and kitchen....and if you stood in between it...you could see into each room....but not vice versa....so i'm looking at the cop on one side...and Billy....with a loaded gun pointed at me on the other. I had to say everything was ok with me....the bullet would have got to me before the cop did. The officer said...ok...and left.

 

That same night...as Billy and I went to bed....his father comes into the other room....with a prostitute. and I pretended to be asleep....Billy got up....and started watching them through a crack in the door....I caught him...and asked what the hell he was doing. BIG MISTAKE. He turns around to the counter...grabs water...dumps it on me...and I pushed him....he slipped and fell tripping me on the way down...as soon as I hit the floor he took the heel of his foot and slammed it into my face....my bottom teeth ripped through my lip....And I did nothing. I wiped the blood away. I laid down on the mattress...and I cried. I cried myself to sleep holding my wounded face together.

I knew I had to get out. I knew. A few weeks later we ended up in Florida...With my aunt. I told her what he did....she put him in her car....drove him to the border....kicked him out....and that was it. He was gone. Just like that. I got a job at a deli in the piggly wiggly...and when that didn't pay well...moved onto stripping. The money wasn't great to be honest but the club was comforting in a weird way.

I met a LOT of Navy guys....ended up going to Mardi Gras with a few..and dating one who moved me to Washington with him. I was really the \" can't take the girl out of the trailer park\" or however that goes... I felt like trash among them. So I left. grabbed a greyhound home.... to see what else I could screw up.
 
Ok age 19...and THIS is wear I really met GOD. He didn't give up on me.....he was waiting I guess...I HATED my mom. I blamed her for my shit life...for not protecting me...for not saving me...for everything bad in my life. I HATED HER. and one day she pissed me off....and I grabbed a butcher knife...and I wanted her dead....I wanted to kill her....and I saw it.....the fear in her eyes...that she thought I really would...and it scared me. and I dropped the knife. I worked at a club...and I went there....to get away....and then.....the weirdest thing happened...I was getting totally wasted....I had a huge headache...and this guy appears...and hands me a flask....something blood...I don't remember but whatever it was...I instantly had a clear head...his name ironically was also Billy. I had never met him in my life.... but he stayed by my side. My boss asked me if I'd do a strip show for 2000$...so of course I said HELL YES.... turns out it was a huge trap to get me around men that wanted sex favors...I declined...but stayed at the party....There were lines of meth on the sink...I did A LOT....then felt a pain in my head again...a bad one.....
 
in and out of passing out I felt Billy put me in a shower...then put me in his car....I remember him telling me he was there to save me...and he took me home....I DID NOT TELL HIM WHERE I LIVED....but he knew somehow....and he kicks our door...and my step dad answers...and they put me in bed....and this guy....sat at my house the entire time....he did not leave me. When I woke up...I was not the same. I didn't hate...it was gone...I wasn't sad...it was gone....I felt alive. I felt like I had purpose....And he goes to his car.....and he hands me this jade necklace...and tells me to NEVER take it off....which I of course did and it vanishes...stupid...and he left. He never came back. He was in my life...long enough to SAVE my life.
 
 
My mom...step dad..step brother..step sister...and younger but pregnant sister were living there...my mom decides she wants a fresh start and packs up the house and moves....only....she didn't tell me....or my sister... They just left. And we asked..\"where are we going to live\"? and she says...\"not my problem\"...no room at our new house for you...So there I am. Working shifts at Walmart...living in a vacant cockroach infested house with only 2 mattresses on the floor. No food in sight and I'm worried about my sister. She is very pregnant and needs to eat....so My friends and I would gather any spare change we had...for ramen noodles...and we'd wake her up at 3am to go eat pancakes with us...but we fed her.A couple weeks of roaches crawling on my skin as I slept and I couldn't do it anymore...My sister moved away and I started living in my friends basement... And that was life until I was 21. I lived in a basement... I worked and I partied...a lot.
 
When I was 21 I met Travis. I was smitten. I was head over heals in love with Travis. He bought a house and I moved in with him..I adored him. his eyes..his lips..his hair..the way he talked so gently to me..the way he cared about me...or so he pretended to ..things were going ok...not great...but his mom...was seriously the kind of lady you would NEVER EVER want to be your MIL...and she hated me. She didn't know me...but she hated me. I got pregnant, and I remember the phone call of her accusing me of only doing it to trap him... Yeah. ok. 8 weeks later I miscarried. and Travis and I fell apart. He listened to his mom...and I was shattered. The FIRST thing in my life I EVER fully trusted....fully LOVED and it was gone. poof.just like that.
 
Off to MOM again. She made room for me...and home I went. 22 years old...new job..again...and I was DONE!! I was sick and tired of being sick and tired..and I WAS NOT going to let my crap life get the best of me....I was NOT going to BE that. I am strong...I am free. I am going to get out of this...Shortly after Moving to my moms I met Scott.... and I fell hard again...We were inseparable and on may 23rd 2003 we married. A couple months later...I was pregnant so we decided to move..to the town I live in now for the work. It was finally over. I had MY OWN family...MY OWN home...MY OWN LIFE. And the day I gave birth to my first daughter...I looked at her face...and I saw God. And I knew that my pain...was over. And I held my head high because I had beat it. I loved my baby girl so much it hurt in my soul and vowed that I would do everything in my power to keep her from Harm.
 
The marriage faltered and ended up falling apart when my daughter was only 2. it was hard, but we got through it and are still the best of friends to this day. About a year after I met Chris. We moved a lot for the military but it was worth it...it made us stronger for each other, and for the new baby girl we also brought into the world. And each and every day that passes I thank the heavens.....and I know that I was given the life I have because I was strong enough to live it. Strong enough to survive it and now raise my 2 daughters the way I should have been raised.
 
 
My Father....was sentenced to 17 years in prison for raping me and one of my sisters. He served 7 years.The state failing once again.. He was released when I was 16 years old. He died almost 6 years ago from a stroke, followed by heart failure.About a month before my father passed away...he had gotten my phone number from family. He decided to call me up. At first....I was furious! How dare he contact me!! He begged me to listen and I did. He said he was sorry...for ruining my life. Sorry FOR EVERY THING He Had done. And I knew then...that to move on I would NEED to forgive him. God would want me to. And so...I did. I told him I was okay...and that he was a sick man..but I forgive him. He broke down into tears and I hung up. A couple weeks later...he passed away.When he didhe had my phone number in his pocket. He was a number off apparently and it didn't get to me. They called his sister. He died walking up a sidewalk in the middle of the day. My sister called and let me know. When the day arrived for his funeral....I didn't go. I did call...and while on speaker phone I said I forgave him again. Not for me...or him...but because it meant a lot to his family. To know that I eased his soul a bit before he died. Most of you probably say you'd never be so kind to someone like him...that there's no way...but it was exactly what I needed to do. Forgiveness comes so hard sometimes....but it is necessary to properly heal.Would it be horrible to say that part of me was relieved? That it was over. That no more little children would suffer at his hands. That it was the final chapter of him. I was okay not having a father...and I laughed when people blamed my way ward ways on not having a father. I can't say for sure if I'd be different today had I had a family that cared...maybe I'd be a different kind of screwed up. When asked if I'd change it all if I could....I say no. And I mean no. I am the strong willed person I am today because I went through all of that...and I like the me I am today.
 
 
I love my mom. She brought me into this world after all. I went my entire life blaming her. She could have stopped him. She could have protected me.she could have seen the signs. But she didn't. She chose to turn away from it...to make me stay there because she wanted him to stay. Male dependencies are a horrible thing. She was selfish and cruel to make me stay another night in that home....but she did.I rebelled against her...and more so when she met my step father. He was just as screwed up and perverted than the last...and I thought it would just never stop. My step father put the moves on me a few times....each time I'd want to vomit and walk away in disgust. I told my mom...but was accused of lying...of trying to ruin HER life. One time when I had moved away she even had the nerve to call me....and Call me a dirty slut...accusing me of sleeping with him. I was appalled....I hated her more than anything in that moment.As I got older...my life revolved around my daughter's. My mom stopped calling me...she never asks how my children are...we do not visit her as my step father is still there...and I would never allow my children to be in his company. Holiday's are small...with just my husband..myself and my girls....I have made peace with the fact my mother will always be the way she is. I just try to live my own life...and provide my children with the opportunities I did not have. And I'm okay with that.
 
I sometimes wanted to blame the world....I thought that everyone that saw my tiny face knew what he was doing to me....that nobody wanted to help me. And after a while I figured out that mom was just so Damn good at fooling them all. She knew when someone would see us....when people were coming or we were going....and she would spend days...cleaning. the house was perfect...food was stocked...kids were bathed....nobody could know.So many men...in and out of our house...of mom's bed...so many times we were un fed for her needs....I still remember the guy at one of her \"parties\" that literally stuffed pizza in his pocket...and brought it to us. So that we'd have dinner behind mom's back. Food...that's all we wanted. And a stranger had to provide it.
 
Today I am 34 years old. And writing this to try and pass along the story of me...to help others know they are not alone...that no matter how hard that moment....it can and will get better some day. Hand strong...and shout your stories from the hill tops!!....span>
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


© Copyright 2020 Sara Brotherton. All rights reserved.

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