Echo Fraust Talking to someone special ^.^
For almost my entire life I’ve been living in the same house as my two older cousins. Two boys, Rudy (2 yrs older) and Peter (5 yrs older). My other cousin moved away, a girl named Miley. She was only a few months older and we were inseparable. She doesn’t know how lucky she is because from the age of 5 until I was 11, Rudy got far too close for family. His hands would go places they shouldn’t and my tiny hands were force to do things that 5 year old’s should not. When I refused Rudy beat me and I screamed bloody murder but all he got was a time out and I was told to shut the fuck up.
( We lived with our grandparents, their mother, my mother, and our uncle. My uncle was far from interested in anything that had to do with us bastard children so stayed locked up in the basement where he lived. My mother told me it would be okay and of course she was angry at Rudy for hitting me but she didn’t know about the other things. My grandparents were sad that we fought so much, and angry at Rudy for hitting a girl, especially as young as I was. My aunt thought I was a cry baby and deserved every hit, she thought he must have done it for a reason and seemed proud of him. She often told me to leave her son alone as if I had followed him around and begged to be strangled until I was purple.)
We moved many times and always ended up living with my cousins, until our last move when I was 11 yrs old. I now live my grandparents, my mother, and my great grandmother who is 91 yrs old and as evil as she wants to be. She always said that children did not have feelings and we were more like animals than human. So I moved from one hell to another.
On holidays and sometimes in between, my aunt and cousins visit. Every time they come over I stay in my room until I hear Rudy coming down the hall, then I hurry up and go to another room where there are more people so Rudy doesn’t try anything. But he always tries. Even when we’re in front of family, they never wonder why he hugs me too close or too tight or what he says when he whispers in my ear. If they don’t care enough to wonder, my lips are sealed because if I ever told they’d never believe me. Rudy could lie so good he’ll make you believe the sky is in the ocean and a puppy is an alien from outer space.
Miley is doing extremely well, she gets all A’s, has a job, loads of friends, money, and a blond haired blue eyed boyfriend with a banging body. She sometimes visits me in Seattle, she even has friends here. When she comes to Seattle, in order to be around her I have to stay at her dad’s house ( my uninterested uncle. And when we hang out, it’s usually with her friends here. They are snooty and preppy, but I don’t say anything about it. I just deal, because when I open my mouth my emotions go out of control and I somehow always end up crying out of anger or frustration (maybe I am a cry baby, but it isn’t my fault.) Miley thinks I’m bipolar, and so do my two friends Siobhan and Veronica. Sometimes I think so too, and I told my mom but she won’t take me to a doctor to get me checked out, I might need meds.
When Miley goes home to her mother, gran goes on and on about how wonderful she is and how great she turned out and how I should be like her in every way. Rudy may be the source of my Physical abuse, but gran is my mental abuser. She perposely do things like sit right next to me on the phone with another family member or friend and talk about how miserable or lonely or weird I am. She’d tell them that I do nothing all day and I’m not worth shit just like my deadbeat dad. My papa(grandfather) ignores her and expects me to do the same, my mother too. Gran hides my clothes, and gives them away. When she buys new clothes for me, she gets them from the same place she gets her clothes and I’m forced to dress like an old woman.
At school there’s a boy I like, he’s my friend but he thinks I’m still weird and probably mental so he can’t see me as the girlfriend type. And on top of that, I’m not the prettiest girl you’ll ever see, below average is more like it. He said if I wanted to be closer to him then we could hang out but my mom and grandparents are too strict to let me visit him and he doesn’t know where I live (if he did, he still couldn’t.) I don’t leave my house without my mom, because if I roamed so much as a block away from home I’d be lost. And I’m ashamed of that. I can’t be different than I am because it is all that I know, people don’t understand that. I wish I were adopted, cared for, brave, and sane. But I’m not, and for that, I want to fly away. Away from all the trouble I’ve been and all the trouble that caused me to be this way.
But all I can do is hide.
