Let me tell you, my step-mother was a nasty piece of work. Greedy, manipulative, conniving and evil. She had given birth, the result of her first trap, to a male reptile two years younger than I. A boy who would live his life just as protected and probably even more swaddled outside of her womb as he was when he was still at the larva stage of his development.
I was eight years old when my father rescued me. Before he came all I knew about life was drinking, boyfriends, violence and suicide. My mother was in trouble. And I was the reason. It was my fault, and to hear her tell it I knew exactly what I was doing. Being the young psychology major that I was, of course I was responsible for revealing her secrets. Had I just kept my mouth shut and wore long sleeve shirts like she wanted me to no one would have known anything and she'd still have custody.
I saw them coming up the stairs of the courthouse on Brown St. They both had bloodshot eyes. His were the color of compassion and hope while hers were the color of anger and revenge. It hadn't been easy, the decision to take me in had been a difficult one and the second she saw me standing at the top of the stairs I knew why. It was because she hated me. She didn't just hate me, she despised me. I'm sure before she even reached the top step she was already making plans to get rid of me.
This was only the first day but I already knew what she thought of me. I knew she wanted me out but I was so full of love and gratitude, I believed in my heart that time would bring us all together and we would be happy.
I could never have imagined that the situation I had barely escaped was better than the one I had just walked into.