Good times

As Rebecca told Susan about her childhood, Anthony's mother felt tears start welling behind her eyes. As a mother she couldn't believe that a parent could treat their child this way. The entire time she asked herself two questions, "How much hurt had this young woman suffered to be able to talk about such a tragic past so easily?" and, "How can a parent hurt their own child this way?". Although neither of these questions would be answered today, she remained quiet as she listen to her future daughter-in-law continue to tell her story.

"My brother, Sam, at first was the light of their lives. Or at least the idea of him was. But that bubble burst very quickly after he was born. They had forgotten the hardships a newborn baby brings, and the strain sleepless nights would have on an already strained relationship. Then my brother developed reflux and things got worse. He would cry constantly, he wouldn't drink or just small amounts at a time. My parents were beyond themselves and tried to shove more and more of their responsibilities on me. I was just six years old at the time, but that didn't stop them from making me watch him all day, change his diapers, feed him. All things I was by no means old enough to do.

At a certain point I think they realized that their life would be easier without kids in them at all and they decided they wanted an out. They paid attention to me and my brother less and less. They would stay out all night, and return only the next morning. Not caring whether we had eaten, showered, or slept. Fortunately by this time Sam was old enough to go to kindergarten, and I could take him to school with me instead of having to leave him behind with them. Our school had a warm meal program, which ensured we had at least one good meal a day. As selfish as my parents were, my grandmother was a saint who believed in education, and paid our school fees. So, I didn't have to worry about having to drop out and lose our only sense of stability."

Rebecca then shortly glanced at Susan and asked, "You might wonder, if she is such a saint, why didn't she take you in and raise her yourself?" To which Susan nodded and Rebecca continued explaining. "Well, she would have if she knew how bad things were. But, I never could bring myself to tell her. She was already quite old and was living in a nursing home. She had no way of taking care of us, and deep down I still cared about my parents. I didn't want to hurt them by calling them out on the bad things they did or suffer through us being taken away from them, not realizing, or not wanting to believe, that this would not bring them suffering at all but joy instead. Ironically, they ended up putting me and my brother out in the street shortly after my grandmother passed away. When she died, they received an inheritance, which they decided they would rather spend on themselves and living a carefree life, instead of their children.

My grandmother turned out to be the only good person in my family, because no one stopped them or offered to take us in. Since they didn't want me, I decided I would no longer want them in my life either. I was just fifteen years old when me and my brother became homeless and were forced to live on the streets. We went from homeless shelter to homeless shelter. During the day I would go to the public library, which offers free membership to kids under eighteen if their parents can't afford it. There I started to teach myself some software skills using the books there and the free internet. Slowly I became good enough to earn enough money to spend some nights in a motel. During one of my small jobs, I came in touch with a bad man.

He took advantage of the eighteen-year-old me and promised me shelter and security for me and my brother. He told me he loved me, that he believed in me, and for a moment life seemed to be good again. My brother was attending free education at a junior high nearby. I used the money I was now saving from not having to rent a room each night and paying for food, to pay for courses at a local community college in order to turn my hacking skills in an official skill. However, these 'good' times didn't last very long.

The man became more and more controlling and would abuse me both mentally and physically whenever he had a bad day at work or had drank too much. I stayed despite it all, thinking I must have somehow deserved it. Since he apologized after he had done it, I thought he might change. He had been my saviour in a time of need, something he reminded me of constantly, so I didn't want to disappoint him. He knew I had no place to go, and he used that against me. To force me to do as he said, even during the few moments I dared to protest."