My stepfather gave me a ride to school every morning (though he let my mother walk or take the bus to work often, unless it was convienent for him to take her, or raining...).  I don't remember what I did or said, but one morning as I was getting out of the car, I ticked him off and he haulled of and punched me face hitting me in the eye and knocking my glasses off my face. I ended up with a black eye.  Not sure who was more scared by that act him or me.  He never hit me again after that, he found more effective psychological ways to hurt me instead...that kind of abuse doesn't leave marks or bruises...
There was one boy in my youth group and in my English class that figured out my stepfather gave me that black eye, and he was mad! I don't know what he had in mind to do, but I denied the truth and promised to tell him if my stepfather ever did anything to me (I lied!).
There were people at church who thought it was odd that I always sat between my parents… and that my mother always sat in the backseat of the car. And they voiced their worries to the Pastor who called us all into his office. Weather our united denial convinced him or not, I will never know. But it was enough of a threat that stepdaddy stopped coming to church. Then in February, I was sitting in the teen class and was stunned by the conversation they were allowing the teens to have. I got up, walked out, checked the sign on the street, saw that it said "____ Baptist Church" and went back inside. On my way back to class a grumpy old man snapped at me that I needed to get back to class… that was my last Sunday at that church.
By this point my stepfather was asking my mother's permission to sleep with me on the weekends, and getting a yes. Even when I was trying to shake my head and plead for her to say no from behind him as he asked.
I was trapped. And alone… as alone as I could be…


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