Childhood's Worst Nightmare

Thinking back to when I was young, my childhood wasn't the greatest. It was more like Hell, but on Earth. I was young and fragile, I wasn't supposed to see the things that I've seen, not at a very young age. They say your parents are supposed to be your protectors but not mine... they were cruel. What do I mean by when I say cruel? Angry, abusive, alcohol addicts cruel. Most of the time they drank until they passed out and when they were out of alcohol my dad would take it out on me! They didn't have a care in the world when it came to me. I felt alone, scared, rejected, and used. I did all that I could to get love from them and all I got was nothing but hate, from my dad especially.

Living with my parents with the way I was being treated was hard, I didn't know who to look up to, they didn't take care of me because they were too busy drinking their days away and the only person that I did look up to was my grandfather who lived a little far away. Anytime I needed something I ran to my grandpa because I knew that he would care for me and take care of me unlike my parents. I loved my grandpa dearly, there were times when I tried to run away to see my grandpa and I would get caught by the cops and get thrown in the orphanage and my grandpa would come and save me and bring me back to his place. And then there were other times when my dad needed me and he came to my grandpa's house to threaten him to take me back and I cried. This happened all the time. Whenever I came back my dad would beat me, kick me, and throw me. That was his way of teaching me a lesson. I was hurt, and was in so much pain I forgot how to move and I cried until I put myself to sleep. There always came a time when my parents were out of money for their alcohol and my dad would drag me outside on the streets to beg people for money until I had enough to buy them more vodka which obviously made them more happy than I did.

I always tried to make them happy, I never really had any freedom but to just sit there and watch them drink all day. I didn't know what else to do. My grandpa on the other hand was my greatest caregiver ever, at times when I ran away my parents wouldn't notice it at all until I missed them and came back but when I was with my grandpa he did everything to keep me safe and happy again. Once I felt safe, I always didn't want to come back, but knew that I didn't have a choice. A few times a night I would run away back home, which came to be a wrong time because it wasn't such a great neighborhood where I lived. I remember getting chased by some crazy guy with a knife, I was running out of breath and was really tired when I ran upstairs to my parents apartment I fell asleep on the stairs and had a weird dream and when I woke up I heard footsteps running my direction and looked down to see it was the same psycho trying to kill me. I was completely out of it by the time I reached the door. I was pretty close to dying but at last I had made it home safe, my parents paid no attention so I went straight to bed to rest. Everyday was the same, I was waking up scared, watching my parents drinking, my dad yelling at my mom, nothing was different.