When my Mom met him he was everything we all wanted, a fatherly figure. He treated us like angels. We always did everything together. The picture I always dreamed of. The image of my Dad and I in a baseball field. He pitches to me, and I exert all my force into the bat knocking it into the field. Running to first base, he catches me halfway swinging me up into the air laughing uncontrollably. Lifting me up, I see that special twinkle in our eyes. I’ll never forget the love we shared that day. Two months later invitations are sent out saying that my Mom and Dad were getting married. The happiness that overflowed my Mother. Her happiness was my happiness to. They got married and about three months after that fear was struck in my head. His skin against my skin. The stinging of the hit knocked me down. Tears welched up in my eyes and I looked up at him my love and heart shattered into a million pieces. He didn’t stop after that day. If my brother made him angry, well I was the human punching bag. He got more and more extreme every day. Breaking me down until I felt like I wasn’t even a person anymore.

When do you know that you have had enough? Taking years and years of pain and never telling anyone, that you’re so broken and hurt inside. I went on for years never telling my story. The pain I felt when he would grab my arm and squeeze till it felt like I didn’t even have an arm. The tears I cried almost every day. Feeling nothing after a while. The adrenaline he got when he would push me around. Anger in his eyes, and in mine sorrow. Sorrow for him because he didn’t know how much he burdened my shoulders with pain and hurt. Silent scream surrounded the room, lurking in the air like fog. No one ever heard me cry out for help because in their eyes I was just a normal kid. The invisible scars embedded into my body. The rest my mind never received. The love I wanted from him, acceptance to be his daughter. A light that I once had seen was now locked away, imprisoned in a dark tunnel, far away from me. I always strived for excellence in everything I did for him. I was a perfectionist only for him. Success was never accepted when it came to him. No matter how hard I pushed myself I couldn’t satisfy him. The blows to my head when I didn’t achieve my object. All the anger he had was put all on me. The wrath of emotions that swirled all around me, bringing me down to my knees.