Young Writers Society

(Not done)

My childhood sucked, in fact, it was so bad it probably left the worst hole in human history. When I was about three years old my mother committed suicide, because she loved another man other then my father.

She left without a word, and that's when the dark clouds rolled in.

He soon took the anger and sorrow out at me. And he did this while drunk out of his mind. I would be silently be watching T.V in the living room, sipping on some Juicy Juice, when he would burst in with a fit. He slapped so hard, that I lost consciousness for a little while. But it didn't stop there.

He would always curse at me and kick me hard. And he would do even worse everyday, more and more.

The abuse would continue until I was 5. And it would be the last time I would ever see any of my family members again.

After narrowing escaping one day a brutally beating, I ran out the front door running into a mail carrier. She was at least twenty, tan complexion, and she in my five-year-old mind, was beautiful even though she was stressed out. My father came with out with a bamboo stick in his hand, not knowing she was there. He walked right passed the lady, and pulled my inside by my hair and hit me hard in my head.

The lady in absolute horror, pushed my drunken father and helped me up toward the street. She called the police and whisked me away. He was arrested and sent to prison for a really long time.

The lady whose name was Marcy Perez took guardianship of me, she wanted to adopt a child anyways, but didn't know how to.

But the nightmare didn't end there.