Dad always blamed moms death on me. He said that if I had been a boy she would still be alive. Either that or he said that I should have never been born at all.
I always knew that my father had wanted a boy and had been disappointed that I was a girl, he thought me inferior in some way because of my gender so I always had trouble pleasing him. When my mother was alive it wasn't as bad, it was just the look of disappointment in his eyes when I did something good, as if it would have been ten time grander had I been a boy.
He wanted a boy so badly that him and mom tried to have another child, but my birth had been a hard one so her body couldn't handle it again. She had miscarriages every time. Slowly her body developed uterine cancer as a result.
And then she died.
I know this now, though no one ever bothered to tell me what was going on then. They thought me to small to understand, to young to be told that my mother had this horrible disease, this cancer. And none of them thought to tell that I wouldn't have a mother after that, but I understood anyway. I heard the conversations they had when they thought I was asleep or that I was just to young to understand.
Hmph. They thought I was naive and stupid, but even an idiot could tell something was wrong.
It was only later that I found out the rest though, when my father was yelling at me and telling me how much he hated me. When he was drunk and would let something slip like 'you are the source of cancer.' The one time he said that he beat me so bad that I couldn't go to school for a week. I think that he thought that if I died every cancer cell would die along with me.
After a while I started believing some of the things that he would say, about how it was all my fault and how everything would have been all right if I would have just been a boy.
It has been years sense mom died now and I'm almost used to the beatings though every time he stops I hope beyond hope that is the last time. I've even once found myself hoping that one time when he beat me and I blacked out I wouldn't wake up again.
I always knew that my father had wanted a boy and had been disappointed that I was a girl, he thought me inferior in some way because of my gender so I always had trouble pleasing him. When my mother was alive it wasn't as bad, it was just the look of disappointment in his eyes when I did something good, as if it would have been ten time grander had I been a boy.
He wanted a boy so badly that him and mom tried to have another child, but my birth had been a hard one so her body couldn't handle it again. She had miscarriages every time. Slowly her body developed uterine cancer as a result.
And then she died.
I know this now, though no one ever bothered to tell me what was going on then. They thought me to small to understand, to young to be told that my mother had this horrible disease, this cancer. And none of them thought to tell that I wouldn't have a mother after that, but I understood anyway. I heard the conversations they had when they thought I was asleep or that I was just to young to understand.
Hmph. They thought I was naive and stupid, but even an idiot could tell something was wrong.
It was only later that I found out the rest though, when my father was yelling at me and telling me how much he hated me. When he was drunk and would let something slip like 'you are the source of cancer.' The one time he said that he beat me so bad that I couldn't go to school for a week. I think that he thought that if I died every cancer cell would die along with me.
After a while I started believing some of the things that he would say, about how it was all my fault and how everything would have been all right if I would have just been a boy.
It has been years sense mom died now and I'm almost used to the beatings though every time he stops I hope beyond hope that is the last time. I've even once found myself hoping that one time when he beat me and I blacked out I wouldn't wake up again.