Narrative Essay About Lemons

1408 Words 6 Pages
In life we are given lemons that we are expected to turn into lemonade, whether they be the pristine lemons of comfort and happiness, or the rotten lemons of poverty and hate, we determine our lemonade at the end. I was born with average lemons, being in a single parent household where adventures were always happening. When school started, I moved to my mother’s house where she raised us as a single mother. Life was good. Then in first grade, life handed me rotten lemons in the form of my babysitter’s 19-year-old son. This was my first experience with violence and an event that shaped who I have become. I remember with great clarity the first time he pulled me into his room. Confused and scared I cried as he began violating me. As I struggled …show more content…
I would wake up, go to school, play at recess, and all of the other normal little kid activities until I stepped onto the school bus after school. On that bus ride, I would pray. I prayed for him to stop touching me, I prayed for him to die, I prayed that I would die. My prayers, never answered, were another cementation in my mind that no one would listen to my cries for help. I would go to church every Sunday to hear, “God loves everyone, and that if you pray he will listen”. To this day, I no longer believe there is a God and if there is one, he is cruel. The abuse finally ended when the son was caught molesting another girl. For over two years, the violence I had been subject to was finally over but the effects never left. In later years, on a long dark highway, I would listen to my uncle recount a time in which he was babysitting us and heard me crying in the middle of the night. He came into my room to find me crying and thrashing in my sleep. “I hoped nothing like that was happening to you. You were so small and innocent,” he murmured as we drove through the dark night. The nightmares continued into my adolescence. My mind had built mental walls between my consciousness and the trauma turning the graphic nightmares into faceless horrors. For years, I awoke in the night panicked and sweaty. Eventually the nightmares became once a month occurrences until one day, at school of all the places, the mental walls I had built …show more content…
Each night was its own beast, each daybreak a victory in itself. The dreams progressively grew worse until one night it seemed so real It felt as though he was there holding me down. I panicked and I cried until I could stand it no longer. I stumbled upstairs to my parent’s room where they were watching a movie. Once they saw me, they rushed forward in concern. I screamed, I cried, I apologized over and over. My mind spiraled downward into a deep pit of depression. Tethered to my sanity by my parents. I collapsed into myself; the despair became overwhelming. My father held me and promised everything would be all right and that it was never my fault. After that night, they began walking on eggshells around me, causing me to become frustrated. I loathe when people pity

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