second day of school
What is love really? I’m convinced I wasn’t put in this world for loving. I’ve never been loved. Not by my parents, or grandparents, or sisters. The only love I’ve witnessed is the kind of love my parents have every time they’re drunk and he hit’s her, saying it was “out of love”. Is that really what love is? Because that’s the only one I know. If it is, dang. I hope to never fall in love… Yet again my dad tells me the same thing when he hits me or burns me with his cigarette and it’s time to go to school, but he doesn't want me to tell anyone about his abusive self-destructive temper that has lead me to near death about 5 times my whole life. I’ve never told anyone about the way he treats me, not even my sisters who live under the same roof as me. When my dad hits or abuses me, they’re never there to see. I have my own room so they don’t know about the hard hits he gives me, or the burning sensation of his cigar resting on my back. To me, that’s love; and until I’ve been shown different, I know that this is what love is.
Do you know what it’s like to wonder if you’re going to have a decent meal all day today? To wonder if you’ll get of sip of water this week? To wonder when you’re scars will heal? Most children who suffer from child abuse wonder this every day, and wonder how much longer their poor bodies can take. The answer? Not much. If these children don’t find and open doorway out, they’ll stay living their worst nightmare everyday until death puts them out of their worst misery. Fortunately, death isn’t the only way out. We as human beings have the possibility to help change their fate. The first step is to bring awareness of their mistreatment such as starvation, physical abuse, and mental abuse.