It's better when dad is home, because Mom isn't as cruel to me when he's not. I feel safe when he's home.
Mom has total control over him. She doesn't let him see me. Sometimes he's able to sneak into my room. And we can laugh and talk, and pretend every thing's all right.
But we both know it's not all right.
He keeps telling me that one day, we'll both be able to leave and never have to come back. He knows what I go through. He knows the suffering I must endure.
One time, he and mom had a fight. He left. Mom took out her anger on me. My body still aches from that night.
I've tried to block out the pain, but it's impossible. The worst thing about it is looking into her eyes, and knowing it's her that's hurting me. Why does she do these things?
I wish I knew. Maybe if I knew what I had done to make her so mad, I could apologize.
Dad is starting to stay at home less and less. I pray each night that he'll come home and rescue me, take me away from this hell.
He hasn't come yet. I don't think he ever will.
All I have to do is survive. Survive her. Maybe I can make it through until dad comes to rescue me.
Maybe.