The Hell House

We all moved in to this womans house, we will call her Cindy, all seemed okay. She had kids around my sister and my age. Everything seemed normal. It wasnt until after that Christmas of that year things started to go south. Her one kid, Lois, was abusive. He would beat up his brother and then would try suffocating me with a pillow. His younger brother Matthew was my best friend in that awful house.

Matthew did his best to protect me. My sister was rarely there. She was much older than I was. She had more freedoms. She was lucky in the sense she could leave. I just wanted my "mom". Matthew understood his dad and mom split when he was young. We both were jealous of our sisters who were able to come and go without hearing Cindy's mouth.

As time went on we were no longer allowed outside. We were not allowed to watch cartoons. They were the devil. Lois would lie and say I was watching something and she would fly in the room to scream in my face. Most days she would send her oldest George to "take care of me". That meant the belt, screaming at me, or pulling my hair. I tried to tell my "dad" but i would get screamed at for trying to go upstairs.

I don't remember much else other than what i was told. I just know I use to wet myself in school being so afraid of what they were going to do to me if i didnt behave. That saying "God doesnt give you more than what you can handle" is a crock of shit. I was FIVE. Why the hell did i need to handle beatings? What did I do to God for him to punish me like that. Was it because I was born? What ever the reasoning is B.S.

I was angry at God for putting me here. I was just a little girl who had been beat for just breathing. Anything I said was labled as a lie and I got slapped, pillow over my face, or I got the belt on my feet and legs. I remember vividly of the girl friend of the guy who hit me with a belt. Her eyes were kind and I could see she wanted to save me but it was a survival of the fittest. It was either her or me and I dont blame her for choosing herself. She was beat worse than I was on a daily basis. This just kept him distracted long enough for her to breathe. I felt sorry for her. She was trapped like I was. This house was Hell.

I missed my "mom", I missed our old house, and I missed my "dad". He rarely came down to see us. He couldn't be bothered. He had Cindy. I would get yelled at anytime I tried to see my "dad". After a while I stopped trying. A few months of being in that hell hole my nana came and save us. She was the one person I knew would protect me.