She Wrote Love on Her Arms with Pain Chapter 3

All right, so just when you think that this man cannot cause me anymore harm. Well, I did have to live with the bastard for six years. He would get drunk and come home and upset everyone. One time he was drunk and my grandma, my brother, and I were sitting in the living room trying to make the best of everything and he came out naked and exposed himself to everyone. He came out naked and yelled shut the hell up. So we left. One time he was drunk and my grandma, my brother, and I were trying to leave in the car. My grandmother was in the car and my brother and I were trying to get in. Before we could he jumped in the car and sped off. So, he basically kidnapped my grandma. She later told me that he almost ran them off of a bridge and my grandma can’t swim. She also told me that he almost ran them into a telephone pole. And this looney woman stayed with him after he almost killed her twice. Another time he came home drunk and he touched my breast when I confronted him. Another time he came home drunk and we locked him out of the house. He turned up the music in his truck really, really loud. He kept looking into my window so I went and stayed the night in my brother’s room. He got in the house because he found a key and so we had to lock the door. He came to the door and started banging on it. When my brother wouldn’t let him in he said “Yea protect your sister so you can fuck her!” It took everything in my brother not to shoot that bastard. But my brother was only fourteen and he knew that this man could overpower him. One time he was drunk and I walked past him with my grandmother’s cat in my arms and he grabbed the cat by the neck. And when I wouldn’t let go I called him a drunk and he went off. It was so bad that we had to leave. In this house, I had a door. In the other one I did not. He kicked the door several times on several occasions but could not kick it in. The last time that I was around this man he was drunk and he was trying to get into my room at midnight probably to rape me. I screamed and he waited outside of the door. He was trying to get into my room and my grandmother was trying to stop him. He kicked her in the head. When I came out he grabbed me and I held a knife up to him. He tried to get the knife and it was a struggle. My grandmother tried to call the cops but he grabbed and broke her phone in half. In the process my hand got all cut up. I went to the hospital and that was the last time that I had to live with him. But, when I moved out to go to college, he moved back in.
Well, you know how my grandmother always blamed me for everything. She still blames me for her being stuck with him. She says that since she had to pay for me a place to live last summer that she had no money to move out. She has been saying that she is going to move out for six or seven years. I just don’t have any hope now. She is saying that when my brother graduates that she is going to move to where I am. But it is just still too much for me to hope for. She has just let me down way too many times.
Another way that that man ruined my adolescent hood is that he made me do an unfair amount of chores. I had to mow the lawn, which was a huge yard on a hill. Personally, I think that that is a man’s job. Not a young girl’s. Oh, and by the way all he did when he came home from his job is lie in his bed and watch TV. My grandmother even cooked, and served him, his dinner. How pathetic. Can he even take a piss by himself? That’s doubtful! I was stuck washing dishes for over a year. Everyday I, just me, had to wash them. My brother, of course, had chores too. One time he was drunk and I was taking an after school nap. He came into my room and told me to “Get the hell up.” He then made me go out in the yard and dig up a tree stump. Yea, I know. A friggen tree stump. That is one of the days where he touched my breast with a “titty twister.” When my grandmother came home I told her he was drunk and she did not believe me. He was passed out on the bed and she said that she did not smell it on his breath. Well we all know that that was BS!
When he was drunk I was afraid and I used to keep things to throw at him when I slept. The first time that I was scared of him I kept a basketball and some other stuff by my bed. Eventually, I got older and wiser. I started keeping a big knife under my bed. My ex-fiancée was afraid for me and so he bought me a pocketknife to also keep with me. Sometimes when he was drunk he passed out on the couch. My grandmother went to bed and the couch was right outside my door. He had taken my door down as “punishment,” but I know that he did it just to see me naked. So you can see why I was afraid. He could have come into my room at anytime. So I went through about four or five years without a door with a pervert that had molested me in the house.