Personal Narrative: My Horror Story Of Child Abuse

Growing up I never believe the crazy events that happens in my life. My family’s quote was “What happens in this house, stays in this house.” Hiding everything was the normal in my household even the worst home situations. The reality I had to portray was a lie, but my horror story could never vanish like my screams through the night. My horror story is I was abused by someone who was supposed to step up as a father figure unlike my father figure. My mom’s husband. Nobody knew because he used to threaten me or make it seem like I was lying. After the truth of the abuse came from the darkness, I knew my stepfather’s perfect world would crumble like my youth and teenager years. Never knew how much pain and damage could be caused by been abused
After nine years, my mom started to believe me even though we both knew the apology was not going to change the past or how damage I was in the mind and outside. Plus, I was twenty years old at the time, so nothing could have been done. We were getting ready for church (time to fake like I was happy), and I was in the bathroom putting on my earrings. My stepfather walked by me, and I muttered “Ohhh great!” The next two hours, he went on a tangent on how I was a bad person, using mom for college money, and that the only three people I will always love is my grandmother and two grandfathers. My mom was shocked by what he was saying, but I was not shock because that was not the worst thing he ever said to me or about me. Finally, mom shut him down by yelling out, “I have giving up on you two to get along after so many years.” I told mom everything that he ever done or said to me during the time I was in middle and high school, and I walked to my room to grab a journal and his favorite Maya’s belt. I walked back into the living room, I put the journal and belt on a table, and said “Therefore I could never get along with the man who married my mom.” The journal was filled with entries of every time my stepfather abused me with the date and time on the title page. Everyone was shocked in the room especially my stepfather. He got up and moved closer to me. I simply reminded him, we both would be going jail if he raised his hand to me again since I was an adult now. He turned on his heels and slammed the door like he was the one who suffered through the nine years of abuse. I looked at my mom and stated, “You knew what he was doing to me and you did not protect me like a mother should have.” I never seen mom get that ashamed in her life. On the 14th August, everything changed dramatically, and the fear of my stepfather vanished like his best stepfather’s