The Run of my Life

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
My childhood was very rugged and terrible. This is just one of the horrors I remember.

Submitted: May 08, 2014

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Submitted: May 08, 2014

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“She has treated me wrong for too long,” I thought while gathering my clothes. Throughout my life I always knew this day would come. Nothing would prepare me mentally for what I was going to do, not even after all the counseling. Before I go any further I would like to take you back to the beginning, where it all began.

My name is Jacob, my life was fine until when my parents got divorced, and it was okay other than the fighting my sister and I listened to. When it happened my sister and I were young. She was too young to comprehend what was going on, even when our mother explained it to her, “that we were leaving daddy's for a little bit.” It was a little longer than a little bit, more like 8 years and still counting for her. We grew up listening to the lies our mother told us, at the time I couldn’t see through the veil she put over our eyes, my sister won’t believe me when I try to tell her the truth. I took my father's side. I never was sure what side my sister took and I still don’t, but I do have my ideas.

The repercussions of the fights and depression were that my sister started becoming a tomboy and fighting with anyone with the last name Weinmann. The fighting changed me much more, it caused me not to love my mother like a usual son would, I would have fits of rage and depression, I questioned everything I ever knew making me really paranoid, and to top it off I have major trust issues.

Those thoughts were what started the long period of my life that caused my anger to grow towards my mother. I would have outbreaks of anger during school, when I went to 6th grade I got bullied and I wouldn't fight back. Eventually one day I lost it. I flipped a desk when a kid made fun of me. It is what sparked the fire of my social and mental downfall. I soon started questioning everything my mother told me. She told me the man I grew up calling father wasn't really my father; she showed me a picture of a man I looked a little bit like. "He was a drug dealer and a drug abuser." she told me, as I sat there not believing what I was hearing. I didn’t know at the time but, what she said was untrue. The reason why she said it was so I wouldn’t get along with my dad, who at the time was working up a plan to get custody of my sister and me, she wanted to reap the benefits at tax time. I wondered what else she hadn’t told me.

My mother had got married again and I was starting to hang out with the guy. I at first didn't like him but after a while I matured and started to like him. He was a mechanic, his name was Dan. Dan was fun to hang around with. He rented space out from a limo company. He worked on the limos and people's cars. Eventually I started to help pick up when they were done working, like sweeping and cleaning oil up. I started to get to know everybody. It was something for me to do. Eventually mom got pregnant with my baby sister Gabby. She was one of the funniest little girls I ever met. But when she turned 5 or 6 Dan and our mother got a divorce because Dan used his money to buy a lift for work so he could make more money. I never understood why she would do that. They were so happy. We all were.

Later I found out my mother was cheating on Dan with his friend Damian. But that was later after we met Damian. At first he seemed a little bit nerdy but the cool kind. He lived with us at Parma for a while. As their “friendship” progressed they both fought with me more and more, increasing my stress and anger levels as I held back my feelings.

One day, before school my sister and I asked our mother if we can go swimming. She said ok. So we were psyched to go. We went swimming. But we saw mom pull into the driveway, she got out and looked angry. We looked at each other and wondered what was wrong. I got out and walked to the fence that separated the yards, and asked what was wrong. She said, "Get your sister inside." She had a voice that would frighten a bear so I told Alex it was time to come home. We came inside and took showers and got dressed. Mom was waiting for us in the dining room with Damian. She said we disobeyed her. “What did we do?!" came out of my mouth louder than intended. She yelled back and said she told us to call her before we left, which she did not, which led me to believe she was drunk the night that she said yes. She held me down and hit my butt with a belt 8 times. Then she said to teach me a lesson for NO REASON she grabs Alex and goes to hit her with the belt I jump in front of it and it hits my hand. I say, “You aren’t about to hit her for any reason! She is innocent!" She has Damian hold me back while I watch as my sister screams for me to help her while she gets hit on the back. Those screams haunted my sleep. She has never forgiven me for not helping her.

Eventually we moved to Berea where everything was supposed to be better for all of us, safer, more like so she could escape all the people she made angry, she burned bridges with her friends so when we moved people wouldn’t think any different of her for hanging out with her “low friends” as she would put it. The fights got worse. Bruises and blood were sometimes the result for me if I tried defending myself. I had no internet, no TV, no nothing. I was locked in my room all afternoon after school until they finished eating, I would get called upstairs to eat scraps of what was left, then clean after them while they sat down and watched TV.

One night I exploded in anger when they called me up to clean. I was in the middle of washing the floor, when Damian takes his muddy shoes and drags them across the newly washed floor and said “You missed a spot”. Everyone broke out laughing. I couldn’t hold it in this time I shouted at all of them that I was leaving and never coming back again. It was the middle of winter break so I didn’t have to worry about how I was going to get to school. I ran downstairs and threw on about eight coats, three pairs of jeans, and two pairs of gloves. Nobody stopped me. As I walked out all I heard was my mother saying, “I am calling the cops you will go to jail for being a danger to us and for being insubordinate!” I just shrugged and said, “Go ahead they won’t catch me. Even if they did there isn’t a thing they could bring me in for. One I am not a danger and two I am not being insubordinate, I am saving myself before you get the chance to corrupt me with your lies and misinformational rants about my father!”. I left with the biggest of smiles and the picture of my mother’s face contorted with anger at my remark. About five minutes later I was glad I had on so many articles of clothing because I was freezing. About halfway to my dad’s house my father’s house, my father picked me up. Apparently before my mother called the cops she called my dad and he called my uncle and grandparents to help find me. He said the cops were trying to find me but gave up. He told me he was going to take me home to get me some clothes from my mother’s and take me to his house for a while for everybody to cool down. By everybody he meant me. When we arrived my dad and I were amazed at what we saw. Mom and Damian were drinking coffee watching television. Not worrying whether I was ok or not. I was still pretty angry so I just started laughing. I said, “You guys are the best example of hypocrites I have ever seen!” Implying that they were being irresponsible like they always said I was. I ran down to my room and I grabbed a week’s worth of clothes and we left without me saying a single word to my mother but her face said it all. I knew I never was going to go back. It has been about 11 months now and I haven't been back there. I also haven’t spoken to Damian or my mother since. I am better than ever with my anger. I am also better in school. I am happier than I ever have been in my life. I hope it stays this way forever.

 


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