Release Me

Chapter 33

I was abused when I was an orphan. 

For some reason, I always got the foster parents who were drinking and drug addicts. 

The social workers thought they were good people now and needed a good start but they were wrong. After a week their mask fell off their faces and I started seeing their true self. 

They just wanted me to work so I could buy them drinks and drugs from legal and illegal stores. 

Sometimes I was even kicked out of the house and was left to live in streets because Jake's foster parents never let me in. They always shunned me and I didn't have enough money to stay in a hotel so most of my high school life I lived in my ratty old car or at the gym a couple of streets away. The owner was a close friend of Grandpa so he let me crash in sometimes. 

Then the physical abusing started. 

One night my foster dad and mom went to a bar but when they came back they got in a car accident. My foster dad survived but his wife didn't. After she died he started getting nice and stopped drinking. He was acting like he cared for me but right after the funeral everything changed. He got drunk again.  He threw  his glass bottle at me and that's when he started hitting me. He would always say that I killed her and hit me multiple times. 

I got used to the nasty words and hitting but one night I got fed up and ran out of the house. I had blood all over my arm and bruises on my face. I knew for a fact Jake's' foster parents wouldn't let me in so I didn't even try that night. My only option was the gym and  I came in right when he was closing up.  He fixed me up and the next day on he taught me how to fight not just physically but emotionally. 

He made me strong and brave. He made me realize that I am who I am and all the scars are me. Instead of waking up depressed looking at my scars he made me realize I should wake up happy looking at my scars, because I survived all that; that I am a survivor of depression and abuse. 

The scars and pain made me who I am but what if I didn't have to deal with all of that?

What if I was never an orphan and I always was with my brother? 

What if I didn't have depression or get abused?

Then I wouldn't be so broken or so lost since I was a child. I wouldn't have to deal with death and the ultimate sadness at a young age. But my father robbed me of the happiness and love. 

He could have came back and took me in. Instead of being a loving father he let his daughter and son believe he was dead. 

I didn't feel love for that man anymore. I hate him with every ounce of my body and I wish that I never bumped into him at the party. 

He was alive and not once did he came to see if Jake and I were okay. 

He's not my father. My father died 11 years ago in a car accident. 

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I woke up with a pounding headache. 

"Shit," I groaned clutching my head. 

I shouldn't have drank so much last night but that was the only way I could fall asleep. Every time I closed my eyes his face kept popping up in my head. 

Slowly I walk over to the first aid kit and pull out some Tylenol. I gulp some down and I get dressed to go down to the lobby. I was too damn tired to make food. 

Putting on jeans, a black v-neck, and converse I walked out of my room but on the way, I picked up my mom's necklace. As I was walking towards my door I noticed a paper on the floor.