My Mistake

My life has never been easy. Always on my shoulders were the burden s of being perfect, fitting in, making sure not to get my dad angry. One day I decided that I've had enough. But maybe it was too far.

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1. Beginning.

Its always been hard for me, keeping Dad happy. He'd get angry so easily, and had such a temper that had enough power to blow up our street. He wouldn't just yell like most parents. Daddy would get in my face, spit flying from his mouth. He would hit me. Hard; made me feel so stupid by his hating words. Daddy would curse at me. Calling me names, making me feel like i was nothing more than an alone ant, stroming down the sidewalk. I was afraid of him. Everytime he was in the house, he was a bomb. Ticking, ticking, until one little incident made him explode; that was often. Even knowing I didn't do anything wrong, whenever he walked by me, or made a sudden movement, i flinched away from him. It was hard to feel strong when the words that would come from his mouth made it so easy to feel weak. I was nothing. I felt like i hated him most of the time, dreamt and imagined fighting back, but all the while, i never wanted anything to happen to him.

By the time I was seven years old, my thoughts were saying things like, "I hate him. I wish that he would just die and go to hell. He deserves it. Wait, no. That's mean. I love my daddy. He loves me. I just want him to change."

Everyday that went by, I would do my best not to upset him. And from time to time, my family would all sit down and talk. Daddy said how much he loved me, and that he would do anything for me. But everytime he said this, it got harder and harder to believe.

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