Day 14 → A hero that has let you down. (letter)

Dear Daddy,

On September 20, 1980 at 8:26 pm I came bursting into this world. You were 28 years old, and already the father of one other child. I was the first for you and my mother. I openly admit I was a difficult baby. I've heard the stories. I cried nonstop and was very clingy. I didn't sleep, and I didn't eat well either. But you were never the one to stop the crying, to feed me, to make any attempt at making me happy. Even at that innocent young age, you couldn't be bothered.

Your marriage to my mother was terrible. She was miserable, and trapped by your abuse. Before she could leave you, she found out she was pregnant again, this time with my baby sister. You couldn't be bothered to care about the 3 of us. You were too busy doing lines of blow and drinking til you couldn't stand. On the nights that you were able to stand, you used your fists to communicate. Words never were your weapon of choice, why use words when you had fists and legs to hit and kick with?

The older I got the more and more I realized that what our version of 'normal' was, wasn't normal at all. Other kids didn't have to hide bruises, or pretend that their homes were happy. They truly were happy. Teachers never picked up on what was going on behind closed doors. I'm still to this day not sure how. Other relatives knew exactly what was going on, but they weren't bold enough to dare question it or try to help us. It was 1 against 3, and you most definitely had the upper hand.

When I was 14 I had finally had enough. You threw me down a flight of stairs, and I landed hard, twisted in the railing and the open space in the wall. That was my final straw. I decided, at that young teen age, that I was done with you and your abuse. The next time you attempted to hurt me, I was making dinner. I had a knife in my hand, and I told you that if you came one step closer to me I'd slit your throat and leave you to die in our kitchen. That was the first time in my life I had ever stood up to you, and the look of shock on your face was worth it. You didn't touch me that night, you simply walked out the back door muttering that I'd be sorry. I went to my mother that night, with my 12 year old sister backing me, and told her that she had a decision to make. It was either him, or it was us. But if she chose him, I'd be calling DYFS myself. If it was us, he had to go, immediately if not sooner. She was backed into a corner. Pick and choose who means more to you. The man who's been beating you emotionally and physically for 20 years or the kids who you swear you live for. She chose us.

The next 8 years of our lives were a struggle. You lied on documents, you stole from us. You made us sell the house I grew up in, the one my mother COULD afford to pay for. You essentially put us on the streets. We were forced to rent an apartment in the ghetto, literally. We were in a horrible neighborhood, where crime was high. In fact, our apartment was broken into once and we had a problem with a peeping tom. My mother was working 3 jobs to make ends meet, while you were constantly dodging child support. When I turned 16 you fought her legally to emancipate yourself from me, so you wouldn't be legally bound to care for me. You won. She had half the child support she needed, 2 kids in school to clothe, feed and care for. She put you in jail once after months of you not paying for us. She had to file for bankruptcy, losing her credit history completely. We had nothing. Literally. You didn't care, did you Daddy? You were too busy living your life with the woman you'd been having an affair with for years. Taking care of her 3 miscreant children who to this day have amounted to nothing but a drain on society.

My mother eventually gained back her financial stability, and a small sense of worth and accomplishment as her kids grew into people she could be proud of. But the emotional damage you left her with is undeniable. She is permanently scarred. Hating men and not trusting them on a level your simple mind cannot even begin to fathom. You're married to that woman now. You moved on unscathed. You claim her horrific disasters as your own children now. Claiming her grandchildren are also your grandchildren. Hell 2 of them live with you and 2 of her grandkids as well. You never make much of an effort with Alexa. You never make much of an effort with me or Melissa. You STILL to this day refuse to apologize. You claim you never laid a hand on us. You swear my mother brainwashed us into believing these things. You lie, constantly. You claim everything my mother has said is lies. From the stealing, to the selling of the house to us being flat broke and poor and you having nothing to do with it.

They say karma is a bitch, and that everyone gets theirs in the end. I'm still waiting for yours. Somehow you always get away with it all. You never get in trouble for anything you do. I don't understand how.

I want to know why WE weren't ever good enough for you. WHY you felt it necessary to hit me so hard so many times over? WHY you felt it was ok to belittle Melissa into thinking she was stupid and worthless. WHY you felt my mother deserved what she got. YOU deserve to pay for what you did to our little family. YOU deserve to be beaten down, emotionally and physically. YOU deserve that and thensome, but sadly, justice has never been served. I honestly don't think it ever will. You not only let my mother, who is a saint may I add, down, but you let me down. You let my sister down. You never deserved us. You were never worthy of what you were given, a wife who loved you and 2 children who cared no matter what you did. You've had chance after chance to fix this mess, and you choose not to. Someday, YOU will be sorry and by then, it'll be too late.

Love,
Your Daughter.