No

by Melissa Mercer

Created on: March 19, 2010   Last Updated: May 16, 2011

Sometimes Blood Isn’t Thicker Than Water

In most cases blood would be thicker than water, considering you have a genuinely loving and supportive family. However, that's not the case for me. I grew up in a small, plague filled town. It was like an endless cycle where I came from. The adults had been in and out of jail, their entire life, and their children followed in their footsteps, so the cycle continued. All I ever dreamed of was getting out. However, the way I ended up doing so, was not what I had in mind. You see, I refused to date anyone from my lovely little town, because I felt none of them could offer me, what I felt I needed. So the first time I happened to stumble across, a blue-eyed stranger. I jumped on the opportunity to get out. The first time he hit me, I wasn't sure what to do, and as my parents stood by and watched him hurting their own flesh and blood, well that was devastating. The next level of blood betrayal, was staring down at my mother's signature, written on my own custody papers. She signed the rights away to me, to none other than my abuser's family, who happened to live over 2,000 miles away.

I was there for five years, and within that time. There wasn't a day that went by, that I wasn't beaten, and if one day went by that I didn't receive a beating. I knew the next day, I would receive one to make up for it. I was subjected to the most imaginable treatment a person can think of. I was thrown down a thirty foot staircase, beaten with a shovel, hung off a balcony, while staring down at the concrete below me, and I think the worst part, was actually wanting him to drop me, to end my suffering. I was fifteen years old, when my "legal" guardian, raped me. This behavior continued for several more years, and finally after being raped once more, I couldn't take it. I ran into the bathroom, grabbed some prescription pills from the medicine cabinet, and tried to take my own life. I never understood, why the person, that was responsible for hurting me so, would shove his finger down my throat, in attempt to save my life. It worked, I survived, but why would he want me to. His family, finally said I had to return home, fearing that he would either kill me there, or I would end up killing myself, and they didn't want to go to prison.

Upon my arrival home, I had a plan to get away from him. However, things never work out quite like you expect them to. The night I tried to leave, he almost killed me. He rammed my best friend's car, with both her, and I in it. She was frantic, as was I. Therefore, we came across a store with a parking lot full of people, and she pulled in, with him hot on our trail. I jumped out, and tried to run in the bathroom, only to have him bust in the door, hitting me in the nose. As A result I fell to the floor, where he proceeded in picking me up, then ramming my head into the ceramic sink. I fell to the floor, once more. That's when he pulled a straight a razor from his pocket, and dug it deeply into my abdomen, with no emotion at all.

When he pulled me back outside, he noticed my best friend on the payphone, and automatically knew she was on the phone with the police. That's when he threw me into his vehicle, and sped away. I was scared to death, and shocked when I noticed him pulling into my parent's driveway. He pulled me out of the truck, by my blood drenched hair, and started yelling my parents name. Suddenly, the lights came on, and my mother came out onto the front porch. She began yelling. "Melissa is that you?" I just knew she was going to help, so I started calling out to her. However, my cries fell upon deaf ears, for she did not. I almost died that night, and if it wasn't for my best friend calling the police I would have. The police questioned my mother on what transpired that night, and her comments were. " I didn't know what was going on officer. One minute I was sleeping and, the next, I'm watching my daughter get beat to death. It is always something new with her, and I thought I was done with all of that." When I heard her tell the officer that. I calmly walked over to her, with bloody and swollen eyes, while holding my abdomen that had been slit open, and said. "You are mom, you are." I haven't spoken to her since. Sometimes blood isn't thicker than water, for it took my best friend to save my life. Be careful what you wish for, for all I wanted was to get out, and well I did.

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