My mother is a wonderful person. She is kind, caring, thoughtful and a very sweet person in general, but she didn’t have the best judgement. My father on the other hand had a very different set of personalities and he used alcohol to reveal the one I disliked most. It was also the one I feared because when he was intoxicated, I didn’t recognize him. He drank vodka as if it would quench his thrust, guzzling dozens of bottles in a mere couple of hours. I didn’t understand why though. My mother was never unkind to him, and till this day I couldn’t fully comprehend why he let alcohol get in the way of living life peacefully. He would abuse us constantly, and abuse is a word that I can not stand. It is like the venom of a snake to me, toxic and unforgiving. I wouldn’t say I lived a very normal childhood because it is not normal to have someone constantly beating you. Beating you as if you had the answer they were looking for. I was a punching bag to him, but he was unaware of the pain he had caused. Intoxicated one night after the next, I forgave him and moved on but there was one point where our patience was tested to the breaking point. My mother always told me not to notify the police of family problems but I guess she was right sometimes, others not so much. I remember him bringing a knife upstairs, asking my brother why my mother was such a whore. My mother admits that she never really loved my father, she tolerated him because of us. It was an arranged marriage, they didn’t even meet until the night of the wedding. She cried all through her wedding day. She didn’t want to get married to my father, she always pictured being in love and having this fairy tale life where everything would be rainbows and unicorns after she found her soul mate. That wasn’t a problem until all the guys she was dating were also very disturbed. One of her boyfriends brought me to his home because I was sick and couldn’t be at school. There he allowed me to rest in a bedroom that he then joined me in. Touching my back and telling me to relax, then slipping his hands further and further into my yoga pants. A young girl, rendered helpless in a strangers home asking him to stop over and over. I didn’t think much of it then, but looking back I realized how much pain that sick man had caused and the fact that his injustice went unpunished is what bothers me most. The next was a man that I’d known my whole life, I grew up with his daughters. They were my sisters and he was like a second father to me. Grew up playing barbies in the apartment complex with the girls as he and my father made kabobs in the park. My mother first became unfaithful after this man had convinced her that he was the love of her life, and that they would grow up and grow old together living peacefully while his daughters and I grew up side by side, except his wife was just as abusive as my father. She was a nasty woman that always hated my mother, but that was probably because she knew how her husband felt about her. As I grew up, he and my mother were off and on, but she often spoke of him. A while back they reconnected and this time, instead of convincing my mother and charming her he was being extra charming to me. I thought it was because he and his daughters were apart and he wanted someone to spend time with. He took me shopping daily and we would do anything I wanted. One day he told me that he wanted more from me, and that because he was doing so much for me that I should return the favor. I didn’t understand what he meant at first but then he made it very clear that he had a sexual desire that he wanted me to please. Heartbroken, and betrayed I told my mom of what happened only to find that she was in complete denial and didn’t believe me. Blamed me for him not wanting to see us or spend time with us anymore. The sorrow that accompanied these feelings are more than anyone should feel, and I don’t think I could ever forget the events growing up but It did make me stronger. Every event was a lesson learned.