Spook
March 25th, 2011, 08:38 AM
Why, by some miracle, do people live? The guy who fell from the 45 ft. up a building while window washing? The man who got split in two by a truck? The reason is because god had a reason for putting them on the earth. My sister overdosed, taking 50 pills, she slashed her wrist with a razor, and she drank Tilex. But she survived. I remember her telling the story. The fear and worry in her best friend's eyes. I was afraid for her. I had fear when she was alone-at home-it would happen again. She was sent to a mental hospital during the school year. She had already dropped out of school and had failed at getting her GED. I remember the night in our basment, her sobbing, telling me that mom was never proud of her. "Everything I do," She said. "Just isn't good enough. Mom is always proud of you! But never me. She doesn't care." She sobbed. I can't blame her for how she feels. She has ADHD and alot of other illnesses I can not yet understand. My sister was sexually and physically abused as a child. Her mother would sit her in front of Freddy & Jason with a bag of candy and a baby bottle full of coke. She was put up for adoption when she was 5, and had to stand seperation, as she already was attatched to her mother. Her birthfather refused to sign the adoption papers, so they were torn as she stayed with her family, then came back to us. My brother, James is her blood brother and was adopted with her. As a child he was beaten, had both of his wrists broken with a stick. They both have dangerous mental problems. My mother had said once that she had only wanted one little baby girl. She says she loves James and Jennifer...but that she had wasted so much time and money on them...and they never improved--or even tried for that matter. She says she cannot get through the heavy wall of abuse that still tortures them. Mom used to spend all her time yelling and trying to help them, she never had time for me. I would hide out in my room as my mom yelled and cried. It is much worse than it sounds. It tore our family apart. Last year, 2010, my brother moved to a group home where he now has caretakers and friends, and my sister moved to florida with my grandma and grandpa. She is working with my grandma at her real estate business, and skypes with us regularly. We see James every couple of months. At home, it's just my mom, dad, me, and our 4 pets. My mother rarely yells anymore, but that fear that one day one of the kids may be sent back home lingers in the back of her mind. I still have those memories: My brother saying he was going to cut my head off, my sister overdosing, my mom crying over the stress, the stories my sister told me of her sexual abuse, that night in the basement, my brother throwing pool chairs into our pool and bending the metal rod, and when my brother cussed at and hit my mother. But like I said, there is a reason everyone survives; god put them on the earth for a reason. I may not know what the reason is yet, but I know that I love my sister and brother, through all the memories...and I have to learn that being apart is the healthiest thing to do. I'm sorry if you read this...I know you probably don't care much about my life...as it doesn't compare to what many of you have gone through.