Speak Up

I could say I grew up fast. I learned about drugs and violence fully when I was in the second grade. My father and his wife were users. My half sister and I would see them hiding behind the bathroom doors, with a clear pipe in their hand. Not able to fully comprehend what was going on. Until, their symptoms became prominent. They'd viciously fight for three days. Love each other for two. The other two would be them sleeping the day away. When they loved each other, they picked on us. When they hated one another, they'd make us choose sides. CPS came to our door and I was taught to be afraid of them; to lie. My dad's wife would beat my dad and my dad would leave. Leaving me with her. She'd threaten to send me to foster care or a boarding school when she couldn't find out where he was. We moved from place to place and I never felt like I had a home. People came to our house at all hours of the night. People I had no idea existed. We even ended up homeless, sleeping in a van in front of our elementary school. My father obsessed about committing fraud and his wife obsessed about him. Eventually, they both went to jail in some form. Once they got out, they got back together, started using, broke parole and are fugitives. Meth ended my family.