FamilyA Story by FatThe word itself scares me.
The day of my birth, November the 2nd, in the year of 1994, must have been the end of my mother's life. I can only imagine the burden towered upon her back the second I had crawled out of her disgusting body. Now, my mother isn't a bad person. She's just misunderstood, like the rest of the hypocrites that abuse their children because their own lives are not worth being hurt. I love my mother, I hate my mother. My mother is a monster.
My father, a hardworking man, an angry man, a strong man, an intellegent man, a man I always dreamed of becoming. I admired him from the day I was born. My mother used to tell me that while I was still in the hospital, while I was kept with the other babies, I stared at him and only him, as if I knew he was my father. As if I knew he was soon to become my hero, even as a silly little new born. What I didn't know was that he would be the same beast my mother was, an even worse monster. An animal that would paint my skin and bone purple and black.
My brother is an annoying, impatient, arrogant, ignorant, hypocritical, and violent 12 year old boy. This is all I have to say about him.
My life with these three people in the past 14 years of my life is indescribable. The moment I feel that the love I feel towards them is being felt back, there's always something that proves me wrong. There's always something that reveals the sick relationship we truely share.
© 2009 FatAuthor's Note
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2 Reviews Added on May 26, 2009 AuthorFatSarajevo, Bosnia and HerzegovinaAboutA winters day, in a deep and dark december; I am alone, gazing from my window to the streets below on a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow. I am a rock, I am an island. I've built walls, a fortr.. more..Writing
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