My great-grandmother drank a lot of Old Milwaukee Beers around that time. So I'm unsure if she even meant to ignore my cries. The fact of the matter is that she did, and I was basically getting molested right under her nose.
One day my great grandfather came home early and he caught Tyrone in the act! Grandpa whooped his ass something serious and he was removed from our home. For nearly 3 years I was sexually assaulted by that older foster brother of mine. Nana told me not to say a word about what happened to me, so I kept my mouth shut. Missing my mother, father, sister, and brother are not even the words to describe the amount of affliction I was undergoing. I ended up moving back with my mother's mom shortly after the molestation incident.
When I was living with my grandmother she found me a few times all alone crying. It wasn't anything against her; I was just a confused child that was touched on and deprived of maternal and paternal devotion.
My nana didn't know about what had happened to me and I didn't tell her because I was afraid. She wasn't your typical grandmother and I didn't want to see any bloodshed. My grandmother was totally hood and would stab up anyone that messed with her family. She kept her blade in her bag and she wasn't scared to use it! Despite the fact that my grandmother had a bad crack/cocaine addiction, she was still very much functional. She knew that I was emotionally disturbed, so she did all she could possibly do at that time to keep me worry free.
Please Vote For My Story. The Next Update Will Be Tomorrow.
YOU ARE READING
Scars: Steps To Queenism
Non-FictionScars: Steps To Queenism, is a highly inspirational and authentic story of an innocent child's world growing up; not only as an 80's baby, but having to practically raise herself in the streets of Boston - alone. From having parents and grandparents...
