My Childhood Part 1

I was born in 1992 to a young couple. My mother was only 20 years old and my father was 17 or 18. For the first couple of years of my life, they raised me. I don't know much about what kind of parents they were, just rumors from others. Some people tell me my mother partied all the time and left me alone with strangers. I was told my father was a deadbeat abusive man, but I'll never really know. My mother passed away in 2011, and my father is an addict who is in rehab. I lived with my biological parents for only the first two years of my life until my paternal grandfather (Mike) came and got my brother and me.
Mike was a wonderful father to me, we were very close. Despite having Mike around he couldn't always protect me from my grandmother Linda, who from as early as I can remember had a heavy hand and harsh words towards me. Most of my childhood memories involve her beating me, or verbally abusing me. She was mean, and even though I was a good kid she always found some reason for me to be in trouble. Her favorite methods of abusing me were using a broom or a belt. Sometimes, she would hit me so hard with a broom I couldn't breathe. One instance I can recall her hitting me was when we were returning from visiting a family member. I guess I was too rowdy or something, but she was very angry at me. When we got home I got out of the van and she hit me over the head with a large rock that was sitting nearby. It cut my head open pretty bad, and I still have the scar to this day. I'm always reminded of it because the scar causes a crazy cowlick in my hair. Another time was on Halloween, and I was upset because we weren't going trick or treating like we usually did (this was right after 9/11) and I didn't understand why. Instead, we were moving two by fours for some reason and accidentally hit her behind her knees with the wood because I wasn't paying attention. She proceeded to hit me as hard as she could with the two by four she was carrying, knocking the wind out of me. There were many different times she abused me, but I think the worst time was when my brother and I made a deal to run away. I was tired of her hitting me all the time, I didn't think it was fair and my brother just went along with the idea. Our plan was to run away at sundown so that we could hide. I was too scared to go through with it though so I just hid in our property before finally coming home for dinner. My brother on the other hand actually ran off and headed for the gas station down the street. A cop found my brother and called my grandma who then turned to me angrily and cornered me by the front door. She kept yelling at me and asking me why he would run away, and I finally told her that it's probably because she hits us all the time! That sent into a rage and she kept hitting me over and over and over again. I was in a corner and there was no escape, the thought I was going to die. If it wasn't for my grandpa mike, she probably would have kept hitting me until I was unconscious.
He always came in a saved me from her when he was home.
I spent a lot of time with my grandfather, he was a water well driller and when I wasn't in school I was at work with him. probably to keep me away from Linda the best he could. some of the few good childhood memories I have was from moments with him. He taught me all about tools and would have me fetch him the things he needed while working and I loved it. We would have moments to ourselves where he would just hold me and I always cherished those times because it was some of the few times I actually felt loved as a child. When he passed away from lung cancer, I was more than upset. My whole world shattered, the one person who was good to me in life was gone and I was left alone with a woman who would abuse me. I was scared and depressed, and I didn't know how to go on with my life.
My grandmother Linda did not handle Mike's passing well at all, she went into a very deep depression and turned to crack cocaine for comfort. She was already smoking marijuana before Mike passed away, she just hid and lied about it. She sent my brother away to a boys home because he had behavioral issues. and that left me alone with her. After a while, she started inviting her drug dealer friends to come to live with us. I spent most of my time hiding from them or going to school. A few of them even tried to get me (around 11 or 12 at the time) to try some cocaine. At one point a man stayed with us in a living area just outside my room. Linda left the house and left me all alone with him. I stayed in my room, keeping to myself as usual when I heard a knock on my door and when I opened it there was the man standing there naked with an erection. I immediately slammed the door shut and moved my dresser in front of the door while he pounded it trying to get in. I was terrified. I told Linda about it and she kicked him out, but the damage was already done. I was tired of living in that kind of environment, tired of the abuse. So one day Linda left some drugs out on the counter, I snuck them into my pocket and took them with me to school that day.

To be continued......