A Mother's Hatred

I'm looking back on my life. I'm the little girl. The woman next to me is my mom, and the guy is my brother. This may look like a nice family shot, but there was a lot of fear, hatred, anger and rage hidden behind the fake smiles.

I grew in a single mother headed home. My brother was a creative type, who was systematically broken by our mother. Every form of achievement was met with sarcasm and disdain. She's Guyanese, so she had her own brand of bitterness, raising two children alone after her marriage to an American GI, ended. My brother was born out of wedlock, but my mom was married to my dad before I came along. Just months prior to the wedding, I was conceived.

My dad beat the hell out of her according to both accounts, and she left him. I told her today she shoulda left me with him. Before she left him, she made a desperate, sloppy attempt on my life. By both accounts, I was given medicine that was "too strong" for me. My dad says he came home to a sleeping mother and a crying baby in the crib. He woke her up and asked her what was wrong. She said, and I quote, "If she's sick, take her to the hospital!"

He took me to the hospital, Ma stayed at home with my then 6-year-old brother, Marvin. The doctors told my dad the situation was hopeless. That whatever I was given had stopped all movement in my body, so I wasn't releasing waste. He handed me back to my dad and said my condition was so bad, I would die. He told my dad to spend time with me while he could, before I expired. He held me and cried. I was the first girl born to my family in 18 years. He didn't wanna give up, but he was just told I was about to die. Out of frustration, he shook me while yelling, "What's wrong with you?!" I peed on him. He alerted the doctors and they decided they could save me.

He returned home without me and he said she thought I was dead. No doubt she was disappointed. Two months later she left him and took me and my brother with her. We ended up living in Cleveland Ohio, where she made a second attempt on my life. According to her, I drank a whole bottle of cough syrup because it was in reach with no safety cap. This time I was just under 2 years old. I was rushed to the hospital, and I ended up being ok.

I look just like my dad so I caught hell for that. Everything I did bad, she attributed it to him, as if I had inherited his ways via his DNA. My mother hates me. I asked her why she hates me but she won't say.