I watched her being beaten. I watched her fighting him off. I watched him rip her clothes, force her down and, ultimately, force himself upon her.
I watched it
and I did nothing
in my own house.
I can't even remember her fucking name.
As a very young child I was taught that nothing was given for free. There was a price for everything. If I wanted to go to a friends house, if I wanted someone to come over, if I wanted a new toy, if I whatever...I just had to be there to give in order to get.
Love was not based on emotion, it was just a word. "Love" was what you did to get what you wanted.
The after pain of the cut was sort of therapeutic. A constant reminder that the pain I was feeling was real. That I was still there - I could still feel. And the thing is - I had control of that pain. I could decide how much to cut, when to do it, where on my body and when it would stop. It was the only thing in my life I had control over. It was my goto drug for many, many years.
I know, without a doubt that everyone will fuck you. Every One. I don't care who you are.
Don't get me wrong, aside from the dark and dirty secrets, my grandparents were good to me, they provided well for me, and I loved them because they were all I had and I knew no different. They were FAR better than the alternative of growing up with the people who gave birth to me.