Two years ago
When I was a small kid I always wanted a perfect family where we would always be happy. We would go to parks, my parents would teach me how to ride a bicycle, we would have weekend plans, go to picnics and most importantly enjoy time with each other but all my dreams and hopes shattered into pieces when I first saw my father beating my mother. For a five-year-old, you can easily understand how it was for me. It hit me hard like I was daydreaming and fell off the bed on the cold hard floor.
I don't know what happened that day but from then on my heart started losing its pieces and I couldn't keep it together. Do not get me wrong, I tried and I tried my best to make our family really happy but it was not that simple...
The fights between my parents increased as me and my elder brother Jason, got older and the next thing I knew, I was pushing them away from me. It did not help when I came to know that my father never wanted me, he wanted another son in the Dawson family. So I started pushing him away from me. My mother wanted a girl alright but I guess she did not want me but still she was the one with whom I communicated most.
Lastly my brother...he, you would expect that out of all the shit stuff, he would at least support me but turns out he was more interested in the assets and the numbers. He never liked me and I don't know why but he always tried to downcast me like I am a worthless "luggage".
The friends I had were not reliable and always temporary. No one seemed to stick around with me. Maybe because I am anti-social or I never opened up to them. I have always been like the sufferer in silence type. All those years of trauma have done this to me. My father beats me, my brother beats me and my father makes my brother beat me. So now you know why I am the way I am.
All these years they behaved like whatever they did to me was right and I should be treated like that and all these years I wished to God to take me first than to let me watch them go and I still wish for the same. I don't know whether I love them or not but I can never bear the thought of them suffering. I always hope that all through that hatred, somewhere in some corner of their heart, maybe they love me too.
Whenever they did something bad to me or beat me I could not help but remember all the kinds of stuff they did to me which makes me have...
I was 16 when I had my first panic attack.
And they thought I had some kind of breathing problem.
Which does not require any medical care?
I am Rose Dawson and this is my tragedy.
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