This is a testimony that stems from my childhood, and has lasted even until now. It will stay in my heart forever as an example of Gods mercy.
For the first fourteen years of my life, I was filled with fear. Not the fear of strangers, or even enemies. This fear came from a person very close to me, my stepfather. He has raised me with my mother, since the age of 3, and up until I was 11 I had no idea he wasn't my biological father. Now, from as long as I can remember, dad was kinda bipolar in a way. Sometimes he would laugh and make me laugh, but in the blink of an eye he would turn. Things were actually ok for the first 8 years. I was beat periodically, like a ritual. Sometimes there would be things I did to deserve it, like get a teacher phone call home, that would get me beat with a belt or the good old extension cord. Nothing big, or new. Most of the time though, I was beat for absolutely nothing. Again, no big deal, I was used to it. I had already tired running away, but it did no good, so I decided to ride it out. Then things changed when I turned 9.
At the age of 9, I was confined to my room only able to leave for school. This is about the time that I REALLY feared coming home. On several occasions, I remember being beat within literaly an inch of my life. I was used as a human punching bag, hit so hard in my stomach that my feet left the ground repeatedly. Then to finish things off, he would pick me up off the floor and choke me with his hands, pressing his thumb into the middle of my throat. Most of the time, I would wake up later with my neck blackened from his grip, only able to remember what had just happened. The rest of my day was wiped from my memory. But I'll tell you what, there is nothing worse then coming close to death, feeling your life slip away...and all by the hands of the man you called "dad". The despair, and terror is too much to handle. This kind of thing happened daily, it seemed like he actually got more creative as the years went on. These things continued for 5 years, and for 5 years I could not leave my room EXCEPT to go to school. At school, the teachers were worried, and took NUMEROUS pictures. I must have been in a daze most of the time, because I never remember any pictures being taken. It wasn't until recently that I even new the pictures were taken. Then DFCS got involved, but he was able to avoid any trouble because DFCS turned a blind eye. Mom said that he "charmed" the DFCS lady sent to our house, so that she never even got a chance to speak with me. That was the first time DFCS got involved.
Holidays and vacations were the worst. Remember how I said that I was only able to leave my room for school? Well, surprise, no school on the holidays. For me holidays, and vacation was pure hell. My mom was always the one working, and guess who that left at home for all of Thanks Giving, Christmas, Spring break, and Summer Vacation...yup, me and dad...all alone. It is too hard for me to talk about the things that went on, but by now you can use your imagination...and anything you imagine would probably be accurate. For five years, this was the way things were.
One day, when I was 11, I found out that my dad was not my dad...but that he was my stepdad. He told me these things while I lay on the floor, from what he had just done to me. He said, "Josh, do you hate me?" I must have looked like I did, because he then told me something else. He said, "Good, I want you to hate me. Everything I have done to you has been to make you hate. Hate me enough so that one day you will stand up to me, Then I will have an excuse to kill you. I will be able to claim it was in self-defense. I will drug you right before you die, that way it will look like I had no choice." Then he told me that he was not my real father, and that my real father would not have been much better then he was.
His words have been engraved into my heart, and soul. I will never forget them, along with my feelings. By the time I was 14, things began to escalate. I had decided that I wasn't going to take it anymore, but I knew he was still much to strong for me to take head-on. So, I began to wait for the right time. Then the time actually came, the night my mom moved out of the same room as my stepfather. She moved into my little sisters room to sleep. It was actually set up perfect, I knew that I could get him while he slept without my beloved mother having to see anything. I couldn't bring myself to do it.Maybe I didn't hate him enough, or maybe I still had some love for him or something. I couldn't end his life.
Thats when I was delivered from the situation. My mother had finally gotten the courage to leave, and in one day we left everything in that apartment and went into a shelter for domestic violence. At the shelter, God began to heal me and help me grow. Before then, the only kids I had ever met were mean, and made fun of me. But, these kids were kind. We went to bible study while we were there, and went through all kinds of therapy. Then finally, we were ready to leave. That's when we moved from Indiana, and came to Georgia. I am 19 now, and have been here for 5 year. I have healed so much in that time. This is my testimony.
For the first fourteen years of my life, I was filled with fear. Not the fear of strangers, or even enemies. This fear came from a person very close to me, my stepfather. He has raised me with my mother, since the age of 3, and up until I was 11 I had no idea he wasn't my biological father. Now, from as long as I can remember, dad was kinda bipolar in a way. Sometimes he would laugh and make me laugh, but in the blink of an eye he would turn. Things were actually ok for the first 8 years. I was beat periodically, like a ritual. Sometimes there would be things I did to deserve it, like get a teacher phone call home, that would get me beat with a belt or the good old extension cord. Nothing big, or new. Most of the time though, I was beat for absolutely nothing. Again, no big deal, I was used to it. I had already tired running away, but it did no good, so I decided to ride it out. Then things changed when I turned 9.
At the age of 9, I was confined to my room only able to leave for school. This is about the time that I REALLY feared coming home. On several occasions, I remember being beat within literaly an inch of my life. I was used as a human punching bag, hit so hard in my stomach that my feet left the ground repeatedly. Then to finish things off, he would pick me up off the floor and choke me with his hands, pressing his thumb into the middle of my throat. Most of the time, I would wake up later with my neck blackened from his grip, only able to remember what had just happened. The rest of my day was wiped from my memory. But I'll tell you what, there is nothing worse then coming close to death, feeling your life slip away...and all by the hands of the man you called "dad". The despair, and terror is too much to handle. This kind of thing happened daily, it seemed like he actually got more creative as the years went on. These things continued for 5 years, and for 5 years I could not leave my room EXCEPT to go to school. At school, the teachers were worried, and took NUMEROUS pictures. I must have been in a daze most of the time, because I never remember any pictures being taken. It wasn't until recently that I even new the pictures were taken. Then DFCS got involved, but he was able to avoid any trouble because DFCS turned a blind eye. Mom said that he "charmed" the DFCS lady sent to our house, so that she never even got a chance to speak with me. That was the first time DFCS got involved.
Holidays and vacations were the worst. Remember how I said that I was only able to leave my room for school? Well, surprise, no school on the holidays. For me holidays, and vacation was pure hell. My mom was always the one working, and guess who that left at home for all of Thanks Giving, Christmas, Spring break, and Summer Vacation...yup, me and dad...all alone. It is too hard for me to talk about the things that went on, but by now you can use your imagination...and anything you imagine would probably be accurate. For five years, this was the way things were.
One day, when I was 11, I found out that my dad was not my dad...but that he was my stepdad. He told me these things while I lay on the floor, from what he had just done to me. He said, "Josh, do you hate me?" I must have looked like I did, because he then told me something else. He said, "Good, I want you to hate me. Everything I have done to you has been to make you hate. Hate me enough so that one day you will stand up to me, Then I will have an excuse to kill you. I will be able to claim it was in self-defense. I will drug you right before you die, that way it will look like I had no choice." Then he told me that he was not my real father, and that my real father would not have been much better then he was.
His words have been engraved into my heart, and soul. I will never forget them, along with my feelings. By the time I was 14, things began to escalate. I had decided that I wasn't going to take it anymore, but I knew he was still much to strong for me to take head-on. So, I began to wait for the right time. Then the time actually came, the night my mom moved out of the same room as my stepfather. She moved into my little sisters room to sleep. It was actually set up perfect, I knew that I could get him while he slept without my beloved mother having to see anything. I couldn't bring myself to do it.Maybe I didn't hate him enough, or maybe I still had some love for him or something. I couldn't end his life.
Thats when I was delivered from the situation. My mother had finally gotten the courage to leave, and in one day we left everything in that apartment and went into a shelter for domestic violence. At the shelter, God began to heal me and help me grow. Before then, the only kids I had ever met were mean, and made fun of me. But, these kids were kind. We went to bible study while we were there, and went through all kinds of therapy. Then finally, we were ready to leave. That's when we moved from Indiana, and came to Georgia. I am 19 now, and have been here for 5 year. I have healed so much in that time. This is my testimony.
