Dear Mother
Mother;
I'm writing this to finally say what I have been trying to say to you
for years, what you have blatantly refused to listen to. Since this will
be the last thing you ever hear from me you may want to pay special
attention to it.
Let's start in some kind of order shall we mother? Life was pretty good
for us until you married HIM. Then it all changed. Then things got bad.
It all started small. He wormed and wiggled trying to be Mr. Nice Guy
but neither I nor Stacey liked him. You just shrugged it off a us
resenting him or thinking he was trying to take dads' place. That wasn't
it, that wasn't it at all. There was something about him that creeped
both of us out. We soon figured it out; he was abusive and a pervert!
First, he started hitting (beating would be a more accurate word though
wouldn't it mother?) you and was just generally foul to us. Even as
children Stacey and I could tell that he didn't like us at all and
wished we weren't around. Then things progressed didn't they Mother? He
started beating on us. You would yell and scream at him for it but
nothing changed. But every time you would get mad at me and Stacey you
would blame US for causing your fights. Wonderful times huh Mother?
Then the pervert side of him started to show. It started out with all
the porn lying around and him locking himself in your room to watch the
movies. But he sure made sure the volume was cranked high enough for all
of us to hear it though didn't he? Then he started walking around naked
all the time. Gross mother! When he knew you weren't looking he made
sure that that cock he was so proud of brushed up against us or he was
in such a place that we had to put our hands on it. Guess it was signs
of things to come.
Along about this time the "brat" came along. With this he seemed to
treat us worse and want us around less. Typical. And yet you did nothing
about it even though it was blatant and in your face.
By the time I hit 13 it was just short of open warfare between him and
me. Gee, I wonder why? You wither totally ignored it, professed to be
too tired to deal with it or flat out took his side no matter the
'facts'. Of course those were subjectable depending upon his whim at the
moment. You swore he never bed to you but like most thing that came out
of his mouth that was a lie too. Yet you swore it was the gospel truth.
If Stacey or I could prove otherwise you would go into a ranting and
raving fit about how we were just trying to sabotage your marriage and
didn't want you to be happy. Such fun times Mother! You blamed me for
most of it because I would tell you what a jackass he was and Stacey
would stay quiet. But I can assure you she felt exactly as I did, she
was just too afraid to tell you. She wasn't even a teenage yet and was
still the world's biggest tomboy yet you had already decided that she
was a slut and you were going to have problems with her. Such a
wonderful caring Mother you were!
All of a sudden then there was a big shift in life-we moved and I got my
first period. Like some kind of male dog sniffing out a female in estrus
he knew immediately. I could feel his little piggy eyes on me all the
time. I was having adjustment problems at school and problems making new
friends now I also had your husband slavering around me like some kind
of rutting beast. Then one day it went from bad to worse. He decided I
was 'adult enough' to learn about sex. And since you were too prudish to
talk to me about it he would have to show me. Would you like me to tell
you now how it felt to have a man I loathed paw at me? How humiliating
it was to have to take my clothes off in front of him? Then how sickened
I was when he made me touch him? How I wanted to die when he sat me up
on the edge of the washer and forced his cock into me for the first time
even though I was screaming in pain and begging him to stop? Maybe you
don't want to be told but I guess I did anyway. Oh well, deal with it.
Sex with him became a constant fear in my life. I loathed him even
worse, if that was possible, because of what he was making me do. It
started out as a once in a while thing then progressed to once a week
then finally to several times a week. Didn't matter when either. Day
time, night time, anytime, it didn't matter to him. Didn't matter if
anyone was home either. He was sure a sneaky bastard about that! It was
like a game of cat and mouse; I was trying not to be caught alone with
him while that is exactly what he was trying to do. Hell, I wasn't even
safe asleep in my own bed! He would slither in at night and try to have
sex with me even though I would pretend I was asleep. Didn't seem to
matter to him, pussy was pussy, awake or not. First he taught me how to
perform oral sex on him. God was that gross! I cannot even begin to tell
you how disgusted with myself I felt after doing that. No matter how
much I gargled or brushed my teeth it seemed that I would never get the
taste of him out of my mouth! I didn't think anything could get more
disgusting and degrading that that-boy was I wrong! Next phase of my
'education' was anal sex. Oh joy and happiness! There is no adequate way
in the world to describe the pain of that act. Nor how dirty it made me
feel. All of it made feel disgusted with myself. After all my holes were
'broken in' came all the different positions and places. It was so bad
that I almost wanted to puke when he was going to take me somewhere in
the car because I knew he was going to try something-and he usually did.
Sick bastard!
The whole time this was going on you kept harping on me about my 'bad
attitude' towards him. Well DUH! Not only that you went on about my
strange habits like my hour long showers (I was TRYING to feel clean
again!) and my sneaking around. Then the health problems started the
vaginal infections, the stool problems, the start of the ulcer and my
hair falling out. Of course you blamed me for it all. It was all my
fault for being the squeaky wheel or I was faking it to get attention.
And when you found out I wasn't a virgin you hit the roof. Thank your
hubby for that Mother.
For me though the true downward slide started in a three month period
when I didn't get my cycle and thought I was pregnant. I wasn't thank
God but that started problems for me that lasted to this day. First came
the cutting on myself. How you explained the slashes on my arms, legs
and stomach to yourself I will never know but you completely ignored
them. Then came the eating disorders. First was the bulimia then the
anorexia. But still you didn't get that there was something very wrong
with me. Finally, there were the eight suicide attempts in six months.
That should have been a red flat Mother, one so bright it was like a
neon sign, but as I learned early on you use the ostrich approach to
everything, burry your head in the sand and ignore it until things go
away. I didn't get the help I needed I just got told I was not was
wanting to die, how could I be so stupid as to think that. Either you
are really stupid or a damn good actress, I've never figured out which
one.
Finally the day came when I could stand no more and told the guidance
councilor at school. At 17 I was done, nothing was going to change what
had happened to me, what made me say something was he was starting the
same shit with Stacey. So I started talking. I should have known better
though should I? All you were worried about was keeping it quiet, not
protecting me and Stacey from the predator that you were married to. You
said you believed us and it would stop yet in the same breath you said
you couldn't live without him. We got the message loud and clear, you
couldn't live without him but you could us. As usual you put yourself
before what was good for us.
Did it stop Mother? Of course not. He knew you wouldn't do anything so
he continued on. In six months I graduated and moved as far away as I
could. I hoped Stacey could protect herself in the year she had left.
I drifted about for several years, hoping now that I was away the
problems would end. They didn't. They just manifested themselves in
other ways. I let every man I came across use me for whatever whim he
had, each taking a piece of me with him when they left. The love and
acceptance I so craved never finding me. The eating disorders came back
but now added into the mix was severe depression.
I did go into therapy but the pain was too great so I stopped going. But
I did learn a thing or two while I was going. One of them is this-I'm
not responsible for what happened to me HE is and to an extent YOU are
was well Mother. Own the responsibility Mother, it's yours.
Last time I talked to you you whined that me and Stacey live so far away
from home now and won't come to see you or him. You chose what you
wanted a long time ago Mother, now live with that choice. Stacey and I
have our own lives now Mother, accept that. You chose what you wanted a
long time ago, now you have to live with that.
I know what you are thinking, how could she lay this all on me? Because
it's time I unburdened myself and what I feel. I also know you and your
selective memory well enough to know you are going to deny all of it but
deep down inside you know it's true. Deep down you will remember all of
it.
You see Mother, I am writing this now because for once I am going to get
the last word in on the subject and you aren't going to be able to call
and argue with me about it or tell me how spoiled and ungrateful I am.
You see Mother; I've been in a lot of pain in the last year. The
anorexia and depression are back, so the pain is almost unbearable at
this point. Each hour for me is an unbearable agony. But pain is a funny
thing; sometimes when it hurts the most you are able to see things very
clearly and are able to make a decision you could never make before then
a calm descends. I've made my decision Mother. I've had enough pain for
this lifetime so I'm going to make my exit from it. Do I blame you or am
I trying to make you feel guilty? No. The decision is wholly mine and I
accept it. All this letter is my way of trying to make you understand my
decision. So read it carefully and try to understand from my point of
view please Mother.
What about HIM you may ask. I've written HIM a letter as well. Only
difference is I posted his letter to Child Protective Services with
every detail I could recall. You see, there is no help for me now, my
life is over. He can't undo what he did nor can I. But what I can do is
do something to protect my nieces and nephews. I contacted Stacey before
I sent it off and she agreed to verify the contents and to testify in
court about what he did to her if need be. He will now finally have to
own up to what he did.
I'm tired now mother, the pills I took are taking effect so before I get
too sleepy I am going to drop this in the lobby mailbox. Then I am going
to come back up here, open the curtains, lay on the bed and go to sleep.
From my window there is a beautiful view of the Golden Gate Bridge and
at night time, like now, with it lit up it is magnificent. I want that
to be my last earthly vision, a beautiful site to ease me from this
life.
The pain is ending now mother and for that I am grateful, I've suffered
enough and for far too long.
Know this before I go though... Am I angry with you? No, saddened yes,
but not angry. Am I doing this to make you suffer and get even with you?
No, I do it for the most selfish of reasons, I want the pain to end and
this is finally the way to succeed, nothing else has worked. Do I live
you? Yes. If you forget all else in this letter remember that, I do love
you.
Think of me now and again Mother but make them happy thoughts.
I know this will hurt you but someday that will too pass just as the
seasons slip away each passing year.
My twilight approaches Mother and I can no longer ignore its' beckoning
call so I will end this in this way...
Goodbye Mother, Eden rests now, finally free from the burden of her pain
and suffering. I shall finally be at peace and rest...
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I as an author never feel the need to explain to anyone why I have
written what I have or done it in the manor I have, but this time is
different. First and foremost, this is entirely a work of fiction.
Nothing nor anyone in it is real but I have tried my best to make it as
real as I could. It's a cautionary tale and one I hope did well. Take it
for that and that alone, that is all it is meant to be.