Unwanted

Unwanted

Have you ever felt like everyone hated you?

That no one wanted you?

Were you unloved?

And tortured everyday?

Like you were the worst mistake of their lives

And got told this everyday day?

No, well I was

And this was my life.....

Chapter          one:          

Dead

         It was my tenth birthday and my older brother, Brian, had taken me to the park. My dad was working and my mom was setting up for my party.

         Brian was about fourteen years old and my mom was pregnant with another baby. She told me there was only one month left until the baby would come. She was so thrilled to be having another baby.

         But that day I had lost more than ever before. After that day in the park I would have rather been dead, and she made sure I felt that way. I can still recall that day like it was yesterday...



         We had lived on 186 Maple Drive Rome, New York and it was May 5, 1975. My mother was planning my birthday party, but I kept pleading with her.

         "Mommy, will you please take me to the park?" I pleaded for the third time that day.

         "Sweetheart, you know I'm busy. Maybe Brian will take you," and then she yelled up to him, "Brain," She called, "Honey, will you please take Hannah over to the park? She is getting in my way,"

         "Okay, Ma" Brian did not mind. He loved spending time with me, "Hannah, lets go to the park!"

         "Okay-Dokie-Pokie" I giggled. That day I was wearing my bright pink sun dress. It reminded me of pink lemonade, my favorite drink. My long, curly, red hair was in a pony tail and my freckles were out.

         We walked down to the park, which was five blocks from our house. Once we got there, I asked Brian to push me on the swings.

         About ten minutes later I saw my best friend, Joel. Joel was the same age as me and we had met in day care at the age of two.

         "Brian, may I go play with Joel?" I asked politely.

         "Yeah," he stopped the swing so I could get off. "But make sure you can stay where I can see you."

         "Thank you!" I yelled to him as I ran off.

         Brian sat on the swing and watched me play Miss Mary Mack with Joel.

         It had been about twenty minutes, when I finally looked over at Brian. I stopped playing the game suddenly.

         "Hey, why did you stop?" Joel asked sounding annoyed.

         "Look," I said, Brian was no longer sitting on the swing and he wasn't watching us either. He was surrounded by 4 boys, who looked about 14 or 15 years old. The boys looked scary and they seemed to be angry at Brian. I could see the fear in Brian's eyes. I didn't understand what they were talking about.

         "Where's the money you owe us, Brian?" One of the older boys asked him.

         "I...I...I don't have it yet," Brian stuttered. Now I was getting worried, Brian only ever stuttered if he was scared.

         "Brian we do a favor for you and all we ask for in return is our money back and some." Another boy shouted and grabbed his shirt. They were starting to get rough.

         "Maybe I should go help him," I thought to myself. "Naw, he can handle anything. He's my big brother." I was too afraid to move anyways.

         "We gave you an extra month to come up with up money," The boy was now shouting and everyone was looking at them. "Now where the Fuck is our money, Brian?!?!"

         "You will get yo...your mon...money, I prom...promise," He was really having trouble talking now. "I just need-," Brian was trying to explain but one of the boys cut him off.

         "What you need, Brian! Well it's too fucking late. I gave you time, more than enough time to get me our money," The boy pushed Brian to the ground. "Now I'm about to take your time away!" He pulled out a shinny gun. My dad had one like that but his was nicer and bigger.

         Brian started to cry, no he was bawling his eyes out. "Please...please don't, I'll get you your money...just please don't. I don't want to-," Brian tried so hard to make to make the older boys understand, but they just didn't seem to want to.

         "I'm sorry Brian, but it's too late!" Then he pulled the trigger of the gun and Brian screamed out in pain. He fell back, so his whole body was on the ground and he didn't move after that.

         His blood was pouring out of his chest. It dyed his white T-shirt red. Everyone who was in the park ran back to their houses to call 911.

         Joel was screaming, while I just sat there in shock. I couldn't look away from that red spot on Brian's white T-shirt. There was a loud ringing in my ear and I couldn't tell if it was from hearing the loud gunshot or from Joel screaming.

         "Dude you shot him, you really shot him," the youngest looking boy said to boy with the gun.

         "What did you think I was gonna do, just let him get away with not paying us back?" The boys stopped talking. You could hear sirens going off in a distant. "Forget about that, we gotta get the hell outta here, I think someone called the police,"

         "No fucking duh they called the police, you shot him. He could die dude," they started to run, the sirens were getting louder.

         I sat there until the police and ambulance started to show up. When the police started putting yellow tape around the park, they said I had to leave. I hadn't really realized what had happened. I got up and started to run home.

         "What just happened?" I thought to myself. "Why wouldn't Brain get up?" I ran to my house, and it seemed like I would never get there. I burst through the front door, not bothering to take my shoes off and by that time I was out of breath.

         My mother came into the living room looking startled and angry. She asked me "what do you think you are doing? I just-," I cut her off

         "Ma-Ma" I started but she also interrupted me.

         "Don't you interrupt me young lad-," my mother had started again.

         "MA-MA!" I screamed this time. My mother was taken aback and she looked really pissed at me now but I kept talking. "Brian is hurt...I think" I was still trying to catch my breath. I wasn't used to running like that. "These boys showed up at the park and they seemed to be mad at Brian. One of them pushed him on the ground and Brian looked so ascareded. He had a gun, mommy, he had a gun! And then there was a loud noise and Brian fell. And I think he was bleed...bleeding!" I was sobbing before I could even finish.

         My mother's face turned ghostly white. "Oh my God Hannah! Where is he?" she looked so scared and that scared me even more.

         "At....at...the...the...Park," I managed to spit out. I was starting to hiccup now too. I also managed to tell her "The...police people...and am...bulance people are already there," I don't think she was really listening to me.

         She grabbed her keys to the van and started to run out the door. "Hannah, let's go, hurry up, god damn it,"

         I ran to the car and started to get in the van, I barely got the door closed before she started to drive off.

         When we got to the scene, the park was completely blocked off. We couldn't even drive up to it. The children that were playing at the park were now nowhere in sight but adults were all standing around the yellow tape that the police person had put up.

         My mother stopped the car and didn't even bother to turn it off. "Stay here," she told me but I wasn't going to stay in the car if Brian was hurt.

         She pushed her way through the crowd and I followed her. When she got up to the yellow tape, the police man wouldn't let her go by. "Ma'am you can't go past the yellow tape."

         "But that's my son! What happened to my baby?!?" my mother was starting to get hysterical again. Brian was hidden, the doctors were doing something to him and the crowd couldn't see him. "I...I...I neeeeed to see my son, where are they taking him? Let me go, I want to see my baby!" she was screaming at the police man now and people were staring at us. A doctor came over to us to talk.

         "Ma'am, please stay calm, we are about to take him to St. Helen Hospital. Your son is hurt very badly and he may need surgery. What you need to do is go there now and hope. Call his father and have him meet you there. Ma'am you need to stay calm, stress won't be good for your baby. All you can do now is hope and pray that your son will make it through the sur- Ma'am are you listening to me?" the doctor man looked puzzled, and that confused me. When I looked at my mother I understood more, she was staring at the spot where Brian had been before they started to move him into the ambulance. There was a large pool of blood where his body was.

         "WH-what? I'm sorry. He needs sur...gery? And what do you mean "IF" he makes it? Do you think he can..." my mother stopped, realizing what could happen to Brian. "Oh my God, my baby could..." she couldn't finish the sentence, she was crying too much.

         "Die." I finished the sentence for her. I acted so calm and my face showed no signs of any kind of emotion.

________________________________________________________________________

They doctors told my mother she couldn't drive, so we drove over to the hospital in the police man's car. When we got there, my mother's doctor was there. He was also her brother. He gave her a shot and told me this would help her feel better. Not long after that she fell asleep on the couch in the hospital waiting room. Even though mother was sleeping the doctor stayed there.

I sat in a chair that was in the corner, I was not comfortable but I didn't care. I sat there staring at the wall, no staring at nothing at all. The wall was there and that was where I was looking but I didn't see the wall. My brother had now been in his surgery for almost eight hours. It was about eleven o'clock at night and my mother's meds were starting to wear off. She was starting to stir in her sleep. She almost fell off the couch once but I didn't even notice that.

My father showed up, to see how Brian was doing. But he was still in surgery, and he didn't want to be there. He told Uncle Steven that it was too hard for him.

"I can't stay here! My son is...he's...hurt bad isn't he? He...I can't stay here, I don't want to see what I know may happen," My father told Uncle Steven. He looked so scared, but my father was never scared of anything. "Brian...my boy...my son, he's....," He couldn't finish, he was starting to cry. "I can't stay here."

"It's alright, George I understand. I will stay here with Janet," Uncle Steven told father. "But I don't think this is good for Hannah, maybe you should take her home..."

"NO!" I screamed at them, "I mean I want to stay here, until Brian is all better,"

"Hannah, honey, this isn't a good environment for you, and I know you don't really understand that but I think it's best for you, if you go ho-," Uncle Steven tried to convince me but I cut him off.

"I won't leave Brian here; I won't go home until he is all better! I won't, NO, NO, NO I won't go!" I refused, I knew Uncle Steven was a doctor and he probably knew best but I wouldn't leave him here alone.

"Alright then, George. I will call you when Brian is out of surgery." Uncle Steven said goodbye and then father left.

That was the only thing I had said all night. I went silent after father had left. My stomach starting to growl but I blocked it out. I knew I wouldn't be able to eat anything.

My mother finally woke up and she sat up, her hair was a mess and her eyes were all puffy and red. "Is he out of surgery, yet?" That was the first thing my mother said when she sat up. She didn't ask anyone in particular, she just asked the room.

"No Janet but they said it shouldn't be much longer. How are you feeling?" Uncle Steven asked her.

"Oh, I'm just fucking peachy. My son just got shot and is in surgery, how the fuck do you think I'm feeling? Oh, I'm sorry Steven, I'm not meaning to be mean but I...I...I," She couldn't finish, she was crying once again.

"Janet, it's alright, don't you worry. I understand." Uncle Steven sat on the couch with her and held her, and he comforted her best he could.

"I'm....I...I'm so...sooooo...sooooo scar...scared....that.....he won't.....won't...make....IT!!!" my mother told Uncle Steven in between sobs. "My....poor...poor...Baby! He could-,"

Just then a man came into the waiting room, covered in blood. He looked sad and stressed. He seemed so young, but he had pain in his eyes and his facial features looked old.

"Are you Mrs. Conner?" the doctor asked my mother, and Uncle Steven stood up.

"Yea...yes that's me. How is he doctor, can I go into see him now? How much damage was-,"

"Mrs. Conner there was too much damage to the heart. We did everything we could possibly but there was too much blood loss, and too much damage to his heart. We got the bullet out of his heart but after that the heart wouldn't stop bleeding. We weren't quick enough to repair it before he went into cardiac arrest. I am so sorry for you loss, Mrs. Conner." The doctor looked so sad.

My mother was so stunned at first, then she sat down to take everything in. she started to cry, seriously cry. And then she came after me.

Chapter          Two:

It's your Fault!

"Ma'am is there anyone I can call for you?" the doctor asked sympathetically. "Has anyone contacted your husband yet?"

"No, I will make sure she gets home okay." Uncle Steven told the doctor. "I don't think there is much anyone can do for her tonight. She just needs time to grieve. But tonight I will give her sedatives to help her sleep," Uncle Steven and the doctor talked for a while.

I went over to my mother to see if I could comfort her. I attempted to give my mother a hug, but she pushed me away. She stood up and pushed me to the ground. "Don't you touch me, you little bitch!" I had hit my head on floor when I fell to the ground. My father had just run into the room and he looked so scared and sad. "This is your entire fault! You just had to go to that fucking park! If it wasn't for you, my baby would still be alive; I wish it was you in their DEAD! Brian deserves to be alive; God took the wrong child, why did you have to take Brian from me?!? Now I am stuck here with this stupid, worthless piece of shit! I HATE YOU HANNAH, I FUCKING HATE YOU!!! It is your entire fault that I lost my baby boy, my son, my angel, it's your entire fucking fault Hannah, and I fucking hate you," I sat up, my head throbbing, but I still knew that my mother was right. Tears' starting pouring out of my eyes, because I knew Brian was dead because of me.

My mother cried out in pain all of a sudden, she put her hands around her swollen belly. "Go get her a wheel chair, George, I think she is going into labor," Uncle Steven told my father. My father left the room and Uncle Steven helped mother over to a chair to sit. Uncle Steven went to get the nurse and I was alone with my mother. She refused to look at me, so I just sat were I was on the floor where I fell. My face was still streaked with tears, but I couldn't stop crying.

My father rushed into the room to get my mother, I don't think he even noticed me at all. As he was rushing with mother out of the room I called, "Daddy, wait! Where do I go? DADDY?" my father had either ignored me or just didn't hear me. He just kept going with mother. I knew he didn't mean to leave me and forget me but I still cannot forgive him for that. I was so scared and little, my brother was dead and my mother hated me. I was five years old that day but I was dealing with stuff not even a full grown adult could handle.

o o o

Three months had now passed since the day Brian was shot and killed. My mother and I were still both blaming me for Brian's death.

My mother was finally taking Ava home from the hospital. When Ava was born father said she was very little and she needed help to get better for when she came home. Ava was now okay to come home from the hospital and when I saw here I started to cry. She looked a lot like Brian; she had his chocolate brown hair and the same ears and nose. The only thing that was different was that she had my green eyes. I had orange hair which I had gotten from my father's mother, and I had freckles everywhere, especially when I was out in the sunlight. I had white skin and I easily got sunburn.

My mother barged into my pink princess room and pulled me out of bed by my long red hair. She looked a mess, her brown curly hair was greasy and her blue eyes were red and puffy.

"OWWW!!! MOMMY THAT'S MY HAIR" I screamed as she woke me up by pulling my out of my bed by my hair.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU STUPID.....THING!!" mother screamed back at me. She then let go when I was in the hallway, "Stand up, you stupid bitch" I stood up as tears streaked my face once again. "I don't give a fuck if that hurt; it makes me happy when I know you're in pain, Hannah. Ava needed a nursery, and I sure cannot give her Brian's room, so I thought it would be fine if I gave her yours," at first I was stunned, "Don't act so stupid, you know that this was going to happen. You killed my only son, you stupid bitch!"

"But where will I sleep? Can't you use Brian's old roo-" my mother slapped me across the face before I could finish.

"Hannah, who the fuck do you think you are, Using Brian's name as if it was nothing. Like you deserve to talk about him at all, you stupid whore!" she was screaming at me now, her eyes seamed red with furry, "George, set up Ava's crib in this shit faces old room," my mother commanded my father with a disgusted look on her face. My father wouldn't look at me; he just let my mother do what she pleased.

My mother grabbed my hair and dragged me into the kitchen, she opened the basement door and said "this will be your new room!" she pushed me down the stairs, and laughed at me as I went tumbling down the basement stairs and hit my head on the wall.

When I was able to talk after hitting my head on the wall I called up to my mother, "why are you doing this to me? Why don't you love me anymore mother" I was crying not from the pounding pain I felt in my head but because my mother no longer loved, or cared, or anything but hated me. "All I wanted to do was play at the park on my stupid birthday, none of this was supposed to happen at all,"

"Here is something for you to sleep on" she told me as she threw a sleeping bag down the stairs. "Feel lucky because you don't deserve shit, you stupid cunt. And I'm doing this because you fucking ruined my life, you stupid cunt! My life was perfect and then you had to fuck it all up. You don't deserve shit, you little bitch" She yelled down to me and then slammed the basement door shut.

         I looked around my new 'bedroom'. The basement had always had all kind of bugs, I hated bugs and now I would be sleeping with them. It also smelled like mildew and mold down there. There was also a draft and a heater in the basement. It was cold and the heater made all kind of weird noises. There was a single light and bucket in the corner along with some cleaning supplies.

After that day I realized that Ava would be taking over everything that I once cherished and loved. My mother hated me for what happened to Brian and she was going to keep me here to be used as a punching bag and a slave.

At first I was confused; my once perfect family had fallen apart by one stupid trip to the park. My mother loved Brian so much, and so did I, which is why I understood why she hated me. My father loved me so much; before Brian died I was his princess. And that was the way he treated me, now he won't even look at me. Before Brian died my mother would pay little or no attention to me at all. And now she pays attention all the time but it's not the attention I wanted.

"How could God do this to my mother? She needed Brian, why did it have to my birthday and my fault he was there?" I thought as I set up the sleeping bag and laid down on it and cried, "How could my father let my mother do this to me? I'm his little girl, his princess. Why doesn't anyone love me anymore?"

I curled up into a ball and tried to ignore the pain in my head and the thoughts of what would happen to me. I slowly fell into a painful, restless sleep.

I had what at the begging was a dream but it quickly turned into a nightmare. Brian was in my dream, alive and well. So was my mother, who looked so happy to see him. I was looking at them from a distance and I was walking, and then running closer because I was so excited to see Brian. But the closer I got the darker the clouds seemed to be getting. When I got close enough to touch either one of them, things seemed to have changed. Brian was pale and covered in blood, his eyes black, and his chocolate colored hair had dirt in it and was falling out. I was confused and I looked at my mother who eyes showed such anger and she kept screaming "It's your entire fault that my son is gone! Your entire fault that I lost my baby! Brian is dead and you're to blame!"

I woke screaming covered in sweat and piss. Before I realized what was going on and before I could stop myself from screaming, I heard the baby crying. My mother must have sent my father in there because the crying soon stopped. I heard banging on the door and my mother came stomping down the stairs.

"What the fuck, Hannah, it is 3 in the morning! Do you think that this is a fucking joke, you fucking woke Ava up! Why the fuck were you screaming?"She asked me as she kicked me in the stomach.

"I had a nightmare about Bri-him," I had caught myself before I said Brian's name again.

"I don't really give a fuck, you stupid shitfaced cunt! I don't give a rat's ass what the fuck you go through," she kicked me in the stomach again in the same spot before stomping back upstairs. Then she slammed the door shut the door and locked it.

I laid there crying silently to myself and waited a few minutes before I started moving again. I got up and ran to the bucket in the corner, near the cleaning supplies and puked in it. It hurt so bad coming up and it came out of my nose. I couldn't stop, every time I thought I was done more would come up. I looked into the bucket and saw mostly stomach fluids and blood. I didn't think that was a good thing at all. I sat here waiting for more puke to come up, and when it did I cried so much. I felt like I was going to puke my whole stomach up. I cried and cried and every time I would puke, I would cry harder. I never realized that my whole life could be ruined by one trip to the park. My life was ruined after Brian died. I knew that but I had never expected it to be this bad.

Every time I would look into my mother's eyes, I could see how much she really hated me. 'She really does hate me, she wishes she never gave life to me and that I was the one buried in the cemetery,' I thought to myself as I puked and cried.

After the puking finally stopped I tried to stand to go over to my sleeping bag, but when I stood up I got extremely dizzy and I almost passed out. I sat back down and crawled instead, over to my sleeping bag.

I wanted to sleep, to go back into dream land but I was so afraid of what I would see. Every time I attempted to sleep, I would close my eyes and see Brian, pale and covered in blood. So I laid there, for hours, to afraid to close my eyes, afraid of the Brian I would see. Eventually (after I already knew the sun was starting to come up) I feel asleep into a dreamless state, my mind was too tired to dream and my body could no longer resist sleep, which I so desperately needed.

Chapter          Three:

The Beginning

I woke up to hearing my mother bang on the kitchen floor, and hearing her yell for me to get my ass up there.

"Get your stupid, little ass up here now!" my mother yelled to down to me after she unlocked the door.

"Coming mother" I called back to her as I started to go up the stairs, still wearing the PJs from last night. The shirt I was wearing was covered in blood and puke from the horrible punishment I received last night.

As I came out into the kitchen, I noticed my mother didn't look the greatest either. She must have had a rough night as well.

"Here, put these cloths on," she commanded in a harsh tone, as she threw cloths at me, looking disgusted. "Well I see you got what you dissevered for waking up poor Ava last night" she told me with a slight smile, as she noticed the puke and blood on my cloths. As I started to go back down stairs my mother called after me, "Don't take forever, you have to finish cooking breakfast, so hurry the fuck up," I had noticed that my mother had already started cooking breakfast, so I had to finish it up.

The cloths she had given me were way too small for me and all torn up. I put them on the best way I could, despite the small sizes. She had given me a short sleeved shirt, with Barney on it and a giant stain that looked like old baby food. The pants were too big, so they wouldn't stay up. It also had a bunch of holes in it, and large holes in the part were my knee was supposed to show, and a lot of the buttons were missing. As I tried to pull the zipper up, I discovered that the zipper was stuck halfway up. I knew I looked like a bum, and I doubted that my mother gave a rat's ass at all.

"Get up here now you little shit! You don't have all day to get things done around here!" my mother had startled me and almost caused me to fall over. As soon as I recovered, I ran up the stairs, tripping twice. When I reached the top of the stairs and opened the door, my mother was waiting and I almost ran right into her but I caught myself before I did. I stood in front of her, in the cloths she gave me as she smiled and said "So, darling how do you like your new cloths?" she said it in such a sweet tone, you would have thought she bought me a brand knew dress that cost her a fortune.

"Well, they don't really fit me well, and they are not really good for the weather..." I answered not realizing what I was doing. Her smile quickly faded away. "I mean...I am..." I tried to fix the damage I had done but it was too late.

She charged at me and knocked me over. She pinned me to the floor and her hands closed around my throat. "YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE BITCH!" she screamed at me as her hands closed tighter around my throat and my air passage way was closing more and more. "I DIDN'T HAVE TO GIVE YOU SHIT! YOU DON'Y EVEN DESERVES WHAT I FUCKING GAVE YOU!" She kept screaming at me and I was starting to get dizzy from lack of air. My vision was blurry and the world was becoming faint.

"What the hell is going on in here?" My father ran into the kitchen, and stared at his wife. He was stunned for a moment at the sight of his wife choking the life out of his five year old daughter, "OH MY GOD, JANET! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? PUT HER DOWN NOW! YOU'RE GOING TO FUCKING KILL HER!"

My mother then dropped me to floor. I gasped for air as she turned to my father and said, "Good, I wish she already was" in a cold voice.

My throat was soar and my lungs felt raw from the lack of air. My father looked at me quickly and then turned and walked out of the room. I heard the front door slam close as he left for work.

"Now cook me breakfast, you ungrateful child. I want eggs and toast and because of you your father has already left for work. Also you will make up some formula for Ava," she instructed me after I had gotten up off of the floor.

"But mother I don't know how to," I tried telling her but slapped me across the face. It stung so bad, and brought tears to my eyes. I tried to keep the tears from overflowing but it was almost impossible.

"I don't give a fuck, you better figure out something or you will be in huge trouble, oh and I want it to be done in twenty minutes." She walked out of the room, so she could go attend to Ava. I tried to remember what to do; I know that my mom always used to cook when things were good. I used to watch her all the time.

I walked into the kitchen and pulled out the frying pain. I was lucky cause I could just barely start to whole tope of the stove and I could barely reach the knob to turn it on. I grabbed two eggs and attempted to break them into the pain without getting the shell into the pain. I turned the stove on high and went to put the bread in the toaster. I went to start making the formula when I realized that the eggs were starting to become burnt. In ran over to turn the eggs over, the toast had just popped up, and I still had the formula to make. I only had five minutes left.

When the food was poorly done cooking I brought the food out to my mother. The formula was still in the microwave and I heard it beep. I went to go it and then she said "don't go anywhere, I need to see if you made this right," She looked at the plate and then at me, "and this better taste better than it looks," She then took a bit of the eggs and then the toast and ate them together. I watched her from the spot where I stood; she then stood up, surprisingly with stunning grace. For a moment, though a short one at that, that I thought everything would be okay.

But then her grace and smirk turned into anger, and she threw the plate at my head and I heard the 'swosh' in the air as it flew by. Lucky for me she missed, but only by a fraction of an inch. "You stupid little bitch, you call that shit food!?!" she spat at me. "What the fuck did you put in that, fucking poison!?! You little fuck face, you tried to kill me!"

"I-I'm sorry mother, I swear I didn't put any poisons in there. I-I just don't know how-how to cook. I would never try to k-kill you m-mother, I-I love you" I attempted to convince my mother but I knew the attempt was dead before it even started. Trying to convince or change my mothers mind about anything was pointless.

She screamed at me and grabbed my wrists tight enough so that I could feel the circulation being cut off. She pulled me into the kitchen and told me "You are no longer cooking our food, since no can trust you any longer," she put my hand on the burner I had been using (which was still slightly warm) and turned it back on high. "This is for your own good, maybe this will teach you to be a better daughter. You deserve this you stupid, cunt!" she whispered into my ear as the burner got hotter and hotter. The burner got hotter and now it was really burning my skin. My eyes were watering and then the burner just kept getting hotter and hotter, I started to scream and I could no longer hold the water in my eyes.

"Mother I'm so sorry!" I sobbed and I tried to pull my hand away but she just put my hand back on the burner and held it there tighter. The tears kept running down my checks as my hand started to blister. "Mother please, I'm so sorry! This should have never happened, please, mother, please forgive me," as I begged for her to stop I looked at her, I could see the smile in her eyes and the one beginning to appear on her mouth.

Finally she turned off the burner and let go of my wrist. She walked into the other room as I stood there holding my still blistering hand and crying silently to myself. She came back into the room holding some bandages. "Give me your hand, you little shit. And stop crying," she started to bandage my blistering hand. It hurt which seemed to make her smile as I winced at the pain. "There, I'm finished," she told me and Ava started to cry. "Damn it! You, go take of the broken plate and do the dishes." She commanded me, as she went to get Ava.

"But mom, how am I supposed to do these things with my hand like this, I can't get it wet, and it still hurts,-" she slapped me once again and I knew I had no choice but to do it.

"I don't give a fuck if you hand hurts or if you can't get it wet," tears strolled down my checks and she decided to grab my blistered hand as she yelled at me. "At least I fucking bandaged it for you, you stupid cunt! Now start your chores, this house needs a lot of things to be done," my hand was burning and now the tears were just pouring out of my eyes.

         She let go of my hand and left to get Ava. I knew I had no choice but to find a way to do what she had asked. So I went to start my chores as she had called them.

Chapter          Four:

Chores

I got the broom and the dust pan and started to clean up the food and the broken plate. My hand was hurting so bad from just holding the broom, I had no clue how she expected me to do the dishes like this, but I knew I had to try.

When I finished in the dinning room and I brought all the plates and dirty dishes into the kitchen. I filled the sink up with water, and grabbed the plastic rap. I rapped my hand up with the plastic rap as best I could over the bandages my mother had put on for me. I grabbed a stool and brought it over so I could actually see into the sink. It was not easy being tiny and trying to do a grown ups job.

I had just started washing the dishes when my mother walked into the room. She was putting Ava into her high chair, when I felt her hand on the back of my head.

She felt the water, which was pretty hot, and she started talking to me, "Do you think that this water is hot enough to clean the food off of what we eat on?" she asked. She amazingly was not yelling but had a very calm voice.

"Yes mother," I answered her very cautiously. I knew something was up with her.

"Well, you shit face you thought wrong," she then pushed my head down into the sink and into the water. She had surprised me by doing this, and I didn't have time to close my mouth. I received a mouthful of water and soap and my eyes burned. I tried to lift my head up but my mother was so much stronger than I was.

She held me there, under soapy water, and I was running out of air. I tried over and over to push my head out of the water, for even a little bit of air but it was impossible for me. Finally she let me up and walked away.

I couldn't hear or see anything for a few minutes, and I had to concentrate on getting air into my lungs and the soapy water out of them. I could now hear Ava screaming and my mother comforting her, I could see the outline of some objects but not much detail. She walked over to the stove and got Ava's bottle out of the pain that she was warming it up in. she gave it to Ava and she stopped crying.

She then walked over to me and shoved me out the way. I fell to the floor, tripping over my own feet as I went and she smirked at me. The room was spinning and the soap in my eyes didn't seem to help. She drained the sink and put all of the dishes I had already cleaned back over to where the dirty ones were. I thought about saying something to her, but then I thought better of it.

She turned on the facet and filled the sink with steaming hot water. I stood up, still feeling dizzy and my mother grabbed my hair and pulled me over to the sink, "This water is now hot enough, and I don't want to here any fucking complaining. Now hurry up and get the fucking dishes done. I need you to do other things for me," my mother commanded me.

I could see the steam rising up from the water, so I knew it was scalding hot. I stared at the sink for a moment and my mother said impatiently "Come on now, I don't have all fucking day." I walked over to the sink and put my undamaged hand into the sink slowly. The water felt like it had been boiling on the stove. I winced in pain as I continued to put my hand into the sink. Tears were falling out of my eyes as I washed the dishes. The burns on my hand felt like they would never stop hurting. Like someone had put my hand in a fire from hell, instead of on a stovetop and in a sink full of hot water.

I finished washing the dishes, and tried as best as I could to rewrap my hand. My mother came into the room and said "now lets see if you really cleaned them or if you want us all to die of food poisoning," She picked up each dish to examine the job I had done. I couldn't tell what she thought of them. She just picked them up one by one, looked it over, felt for any grease or food and then put it back. I just stood there and watched her. I just stood there and watched her.

When she got to the last one, I thought I was home free because it didn't seem like she had found anything wrong with them. "So how do you think you did?" she asked me.

I knew this was bad because my opinion didn't matter to her, or at least it shouldn't have. I also knew that no matter what the answer I would give her, weather right or wrong would never be good enough. "I think I did a pretty good job mother."

"Well DAUGHTER you thought wrong!" She spat at me! "I bet you were smart, thinking once your mother left the room you could refill the sink with that cold ass water and that I wouldn't notice? You think I'm that stupid, but you're wrong!" She accused me of doing something that I wouldn't even have considered had I thought of it. "I knew you would try to kill us, just like you did to Brian! You murdering piece of shit! How could you do this to your family!?!" she screamed at me.

"I didn't-" I started to try to explain to her but she pushed me off the stool I was standing on. I fell backwards and hit my head once again.

"I don't want to hear your stupid explanations!" She grabbed a plate and threw it at me. Lucky for me she missed again, just like before. "Now stand up and do them fucking right this time!! I'll be standing her to make sure that you do! And hurry the fuck up already!"

I did the dishes like she asked as best as I could. The tears ran down my face from the pain. I knew she didn't care at all, but I still wished she would have. My hand stung so badly that I thought it was going to fall off. Actually that might have been less painful. The plastic rap didn't seem to be doing much, the bandage still got wet and the soap was stinging my burns.

'How can she expect me to do all this? I'm only a little girl, I don't even know what I'm doing, let alone how to do it right or wrong,' I thought to myself, even though I knew it was pointless to question my mother. It wouldn't change anything and even if I did decide to say something to her the punishment wouldn't be worth it.

After I finished the dishes, she handed me a mop. "I want this floor spotless, nothing on it or I'll make you do it with your toothbrush. I want to be able to see my face in the floor and be able to eat off it. If I can't you can expect to being it again and then you'll be punished. And I don't want to hear any complaints either," She threatened me, and I knew she was good for it. I took the mop from her and grabbed the bucket from under the sink. I filled it with the hot soapy water once again.

The mop was way too big for me to handle and it was very difficult to use it. Even though it was way taller than me I managed to use it. My mother had left the room; I have no clue what she was doing. It seemed like it took me forever to finish but I knew it wasn't that long.

Finally my mother came back into the kitchen when I was almost finished.

"I need the bathroom to be cleaned, and I want it fucking spotless. I have already made a bucket up for you to use and it is in the bathroom."

I walked into the bathroom and she threw my toothbrush at me and said "Clean with this and I want it to be spotless. Oh and you might want to be careful of how much of that shit you breath in, it could be toxic." For a moment she seemed like she was warning me but then she yelled, "But I don't really give a fuck! So breath it all in, HONEY!" she slammed the door behind her and I was locked in the bathroom with a bucket full of random chemicals.

I took off my too small shirt and tried to use it as a mask as I begun to inch toward the bucket to clean the bathroom. I could smell the chemicals in the bucket when I was across the small room. The fumes were making me dizzy. When I got over to the bucket I was holding my breath. The fumes were making me weak and I knew if I was to breathe any more of it then I would pass out.

Lucky for me our bathroom had a small vent that whenever I felt like I was close to passing out, I would go toward it and get as close to it as possible. I would stick my face so close to the vent that when I would attempt to breath in the fresh air, I could taste the particles of metal from the gate.

I crawled once again toward the bucket and began the slow process of cleaning the whole bathroom with my tiny toothbrush. The smell was unbearable and the vent didn't offer me much help.

Twice I puked and the first I didn't even make it to the toilet, so I had to re-clean that part of the floor again. The second time I did make it but I knew that my mother would make me clean that too.

Once I finished cleaning the floor and the toilet I forced myself to crawl over to the door. I banged on it, hoping my dad would be near by and my mom would be out. I had no such luck. She swung the door open and it hit me in the face. It bled and it got onto the floor that I had just cleaned.

My mother laughed at me and said, "I was going to let you out when I was ready, you stupid cunt. But now you have to clean it again, you got blood on my clean bathroom floor. Now clean it again you stupid bitch!" she laughed and spit on the floor. She once again slammed the door shut.

I sat there and cried, I couldn't stop, and I kept breathing in the fumes, making my head spin. I couldn't get the room to stay still, and next thing I knew I was staring at the bathroom wall. I was lying on my side and puking. Then everything went black.