A Fairytale gone bad

Chapter 1: From the beginning.                                   As does every "fairytale" there is a beginning, mine starts here. I mother and father were married at a very young age. My mother was 16 and my dad was 21. I was born two years later, on January, 19th. (My mom was 18 and my dad was 23). My parents marriage only lasted 6 years, due to lack of honesty, My dad was having an affair with my mothers cousin, and my mom was having an affair with her boss...my mom's affair was the only one surfaced at the time. After their divorce, my parents gained joint custody, even though the next 3 years I lived in Manhattan Beach…the hardest thing to adjust to. My father started dating my mother’s cousin, Sylvia, who was already living with us and my mom continued her relationship with her former boss, Jefery.  Matthew Lester:  My dad and I never truly saw eye to eye, and most of the time I was left at home with his girlfriend, who I got along with fine. See my dads family was very conservative, and they hardly ever showed emotion, the didn’t know how to cry as I would often say. Therefore my dad didn’t really know how to raise a child, showing them the love and support, the father-son relationship that is vital to every happy family. Needless to say my father married Sylvia, when I was 10 years old. She had already had a son from her previous marriage, Christopher, who was three years younger than I was, and then when I was 12 she had my fathers’ baby, Noah. After their marriage, distance grew between me and my step mother. Jealousy began. She always had a problem with my mom, and she began talking about my mom, to my face. I remember on several instances she even tried to turn me against my mother. After years of verbal abuse, it became physical. My step mom began beating me when I was about 11. My dads, never being home, often didnt believe the stories, but I knew. She would make me clean and scrub day in and day out. i was fixing our family dinner at the age of 11. She would always make me fix things I didn’t like, then she'd feel my plate full and force me to eat it, when I refused, I was smacked to the grown... When I done something wrong, with out knowing better, she would punish me, when I would do something right, she'd say nothing, not even a "good job josh". To her I was the lesser of her and her son. It was when I was 14 that this became a problem. I began to stand up for myself, and the fights only became more physical. She would throw me to the grown, spit on me, call me names, and threaten to take my life, yes her sad she'd kill me before it was over. What had I done wrong? This is when my dad became involved, and it wasn’t for the better. To him, she was always right, i was always wrong. To him I was different from the start; because I wasn’t like his family...I was the outcast. If I didn’t brush my hair a certain way, or if I didn’t use the correct words, if I listened to the wrong kind of music, if I cried, I would get beaten. Problems only got worse, when I was 15 I came out to everyone that I was homosexual. I had been talking to this guy, my dad had been listening to the convo and instead of confronting me, and he went to my mom. She then asked me and I told her yes, but she already knew, she knew. So i really never had to come out and tell my dad. Of course he denied it being possible, once again, I was different, I was "sick". I recall one instance when my mother had called me and my step mom refused to tell me(as she often did) when i found out, i confronted her saying" this is why I have no respect for you" in return she said " I don’t need respect from a fag". If I had to mark a point in my life where anger took over peace, hate took over love and violence took over innocents, it was then. I hit her once in the head... The last fight we had, started then. After back and forward blows for about 10 minutes, my dad separated us, knocking me to the floor, and then repeatedly kicking me saying" I'll settle this my damn self you bastard". It was then that the hate grew towards him, and it was then that my last true tear fell. I was broken, inside and out. I then moved in with my mother, my step mom pressed assault and battery charges on me, assault and battery, at the age of 15. This led to my dad and step moms divorce in December of 2003. I then was forced by courts to move back in with my father, due to my mom’s unstable life at the time. Shortly after, I turned 16.

Alberta Gilley: Even before my patents divorce, I was a "momma’s boy". We shared a bond, even more so after her marriage ended. My mother was always wrapped up in self-appearance and self dignity, she taught me so much, and my mother was my role model. When I was 7 my mom and Jefery had my sister, Heather. Shortly after, due to abuse, my mom left her dad, to whom she was never married. At that point my mom became very independent. Taking on the role of a mother and a best friend of two. My mom and I never fought, never argued, we understood each other. In 1997, when I was 9 she remarried. Her husband, Dale, was an asshole, and their marriage only lasted 4 years. i remember, before he would go off to work he would leave my mom a note of things to do, what to cook him for supper, where to go and even what to wear. His goal, to strip my mother of everything she had gained after leaving my father, and he almost succeeded. I even recall them arguing about sex, in the end he would force her. After their divorce my mom gained her, teenage hood back. She began to party, have friends, go places, and do as she wished, my mother was free. Then in 2004 she got pregnant and engaged, shortly after Ronnie (her fiancé) was locked up, for a very long time. Once again my mother was placed on the spot, now raising three kids and going back to college. This is the point where we grew apart; she became interested in worldly objects, a gold-digger. She had multiple boyfriends, that she used to get whatever she wanted, but she never did without anything. Soon the hero, turned into the person I envied, but loved the most. One thing was for sure, my mom never had a problem with my homosexuality, i was gay, and she was my mother. Infact for a short while it brought us closer, but soon the small gap returned. I turned 16.