Please. Listen to my story. I doubt you have ever heard one like it. Try to think of me as you would your own daughter, or sister, niece, or friend.. But, honestly.. you don’t have to read my sob story.. it honestly is a bunch of excuses.. but I guarantee to you.. you will never think of life the same.. You could skip through to the bottom of this question.. and honestly, If you do, I don’t care what you think of me.. A friend, an enemy, a daughter, a complete stranger.. Just remember I’m a person. I’m a reall life person. My name is Marissa. I’m a human being that loves with such a passion, because she has lost more than you will ever begin to understand. She’s a fifteen year old girl who hid in the corner of her room on the top floor of her house in Johnson County, Kansas, while she watched silently as her perfect “johnson county” life fell apart. Her world crumbled beneath her feet. She has taken every beating, every bruise, every cut.. because she’s got nothing else. She’s just fifteen. I am JUST fifteen… And the emotions I have lived with, the terrors God has put me through, they have made me into an invididual who had everything.. and was finally pushed over the edge by her own brother, he was fifteen. I was only thirteen. I had my life threatened by my own blood relative. In front of my own mother, who was too scared and powerless to do anything to help her own daughter. I had my life threatened in front of my own 7 year old brother, who had to watch in horror as his big sister was beaten by closed fists, as she was thrown across the rooms of her house, stabbed at with an acctual knife, and burned by burning money.. all by her own family members.. mainly by her own older brother…
But I’m not blaming him..It wasn’t his fault.
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THIS IS THE BEGINNING OF MY STORY.. IF YOU DON’T WANT TO SPEND THE TIME READING MY STORY, IT IS SUMMARIZED IN THE QUESTION AT THE BOTTOM….
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We were just little kids.. trying to make it through this crazy little thing called life.. Me and my older brother, (Jake) never had the best lives.. What I will call “Daddy #1″ (birthdad, nick) was addicted to many subsatnces, including crack, heroin, and meth. And who i will refer to as “Daddy #2″ (stepdad, who eventually adopted jake and myself to become our legal “Dad”, Tom-also, birthdad to my younger half-brother, TJ) Was bipolar, extremely Depressed, and within his time as my “Dad” our family watched as cancer took two of my amazing grandmas. The first to go was my mom’s mother. She was such a powerful individual. She cared for Jake and I when Nick (Daddy #1) Left the family for the Crack business. Later, within the same month, cancer took Tom (Daddy #2)’s mother. I called her “Grandma Trudy” Honestly, she was the only thing in Daddy #2′s life that kept him sane. With her gone, He went wild. spending all the family’s money, and taking his physical rage out on Jake and I. I was eight at the time. He beat us sh!tless. (sorry for my language, but it was the lightest way to put it while coming close to what happened.) Daddy #2 burned money infront of my face. A Twenty Dollar Bill. He was wearing his blue flannel shirt. Me, My favorite pink sundress. Jake, a chiefs jersey. I could tell you every detail of that day. He was yelling at us for wasting money. Then, being all high and mighty, as always, he decided to teach us a lesson in finace while teaching english, by using metaphors to punish us. He pulled out his money clip. then, got a twenty dollar bill out of the clip. Then took his lighter, and lit the money on fire, waving it 2cm in front of my face. While screaming at Jake and I for being wasteful. I remember him saying “next time you feel like wasting money.. why don’t you just let me burn it for you? Because this is what you’re doing. You’re wasting our family’s money. You’re burning our money.” All I had done was not finished my dinner, because I had a stomach ache from eating too much. My mom cried in the other room, while I cried with the fire so close to my face, I was sweating. Finally, about 11 months later, around the time his mom had died, He left my family.. with no money, a newly single mother, to support a family of four on a teacher’s sallary. She raised My younger brother, TJ (4 at the time of Tom’s departure.), My older brother, Jake (10 years old at the time,) and Myself, Marissa (8 at the time). She raised us all to the best of her ability, trying to undo all that Tom had taugh us about life.. But sadly enough, for Jake and Myself, statistics show that whatever a child lives with until he/she in 6 becomes normal behavior for the child. For Myself, this meant I thought being hit, and screamed at, was normal. I had no friends, because everyone was scared of my dad. I seriously thought it was normal. It didnt seem fair.. but I knew nothing
