As a child, life was hard. My step-dad named Joe was abusive, both mentally and physically to my family. He would often to drugs and/or alcohol causing him to go into one of his little “tantrum’s”.

He was a part of my life for thirteen years of my life, my childhood was taken away from me. I lost friends, everybody wanted nothing to do with me. I was always depressed and seemed too mature for them. At the age fourteen I ended things. I came to school and started crying as I saw my best friend. I told her what happened the past couple of weeks, how my step-dad started getting more violent and started forcing me to do things (nothing sexual).

He always tried to make me believe that I’m the reason he was there with me and not with his other son. I believed it, and still do. It makes me feel guilty. It makes me blame myself for putting this on my family.

The following day, I called my elementary school counsellor and she came running from her other school, talked to me then called the cops. What my step-dad was doing was enough to put him in jail, I didn’t know so that surprised me.

I was taken to the police department; my mother was called, and I was questioned. In the end I was put in Foster care for a year. My foster-care mother was a sweetheart, Lynell was her name. She spoiled me and made me feel special, I do miss her, but I love my mother more, I wanted her to be happy.

I am currently fourteen years old, my name is Angelina Johnson, and this was my life story.

Thank you for reading.