Rotten Lemons Research Paper

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 to get away, he held me in place with his significantly larger body. He whispered in my ear threats and statements such as “no one will believe you if you tell”, “this is your fault”, and many others. I believed him since I was only seven and unable to use reason to believe otherwise. When it was finally over, I felt empty, as if he had plucked an essential piece of my being out of me. This torture became …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