Created By

jordann5

Rate this Story

Embed

   Most families care and love you, protect their kids...in my case it's the opposite.  It all started when my dad died when I was 6 years old.  I never saw it coming, we were such a happy family until his accident.  A year later my mom met this guy named John.  He seemed like a nice guy and I sensed no threat.  But, that all changed the night i came home from dance. 

 I walked through the door, tired and couldn't wait for my my step dad John to tell me that story of him when he met my mom. I was passing the kitchen wondering why everthing was so quiet, thinking maybe John and my mom were asleep I quietly tip toed up the stairs and opened my door.  On my bed was John and bottles of liquor next to him.  He looked mad and had a huge grin on his face. 

  Before I knew he was behind me shutting the door and locked it.  I began to shiver and asked him if he was going to tell me his story.  He looked at me and laughed.  I had a feeling that he had something else in mind and started to cry.  He grabbed my arm and said "Shut up you piece of shit.", I started to cry even louder.  My face started to burn as he smacked me to the ground.  I couldn't believe what was going on, my step dad who I trusted and loved had just hit me!

  I stared into his face in disbelief, "Why?!" I asked.  He just laughed and said "Don't worry this will only take a few minutes.".  I looked at him like what the heck are you talking about and started to cry even more.  "Thats a cute little outfit you have on." he said.  I didnt know whether to say thanks or act like he didnt even say that.  I looked away.

  He got closer to me.  "You're very pretty and I love you." he whispered into my ear.  I frowned as he lifted me up onto the bed....