Status: Story In-Progress
Struggles
Prologue
Everyone always asks me the same questions, "Are you okay", "How'd you get hurt", and "What happened to you". I always give the same lame answer, "Yeah. I was playing -fill in the blank- and hurt myself, y'know how boys are", and they'd believe me. I never told anyone the truth and until recently I couldn't even admit it to myself.
Now, I bet you're wondering who I am and what the heck I'm talking about, right? Well, my name is Marcus Duke Bentley, everyone but my best friend calls me Mark, my best friend calls me Duke or Sir Duke to be funny. I look like your average white american fifteen year old boy. I am five foot six with light gray eyes. I have dark black hair that falls two inches below my ears and I have scars on my chest, back, arms, and legs. I am an over-achiever in school, I'll explain why later, and I am kind of shy-like. I'm quiet and typically obiedient to my father. I live on Gay Street in Royersford Pennsylvania.
Now for the interesting stuff. Ever since I was five years old I've been subject to child abuse by my father. It of course started as emotional abuse. I was yelled at and insulted so much that I thought of myself as useless. I was always getting locked in my room or the broom closet, a little three by three closet. Sometimes I'd be locked away and wouldn't either lunch or dinner, sometimes both. Later it became physical abuse. My dad would slap me whenever I was being "bad" or was doing something he didn't like. Slapping became punching and kicking, he twisted my arm and snapped it. He would brake my legs and arms and wrists and hands and ankles and ribs, but I always told people that it was -fill in the blank- sport.
Every kid delt with things like that their own way. Some kids brave up and tell someone while others shut up and keep it to themselves. I kept it to myself. I'd go to school early, like a half hour before school starts, and would leave late, like a half hour after school ends. That's also when I became an over-achiever. While I was locked in my room or the closet I would do all of my homework and extra credit work and sometimes my missed work. A few times dad would lock me in the closet after dinner and not let me out until after breakfast two days later. A side effect to all the abuse was that I found it hard to trust adult men, I'd get nervous because they remind me of my dad sometimes, I shut up and shy away from them.
I didn't do anything about it, I never did. A neighbor who's also a teacher, but not one of mine, did and you'll hear about her later on. What I'm going to start with is the beginning of the summer where it all began, where I lost my family and almost lost my... Well you'll see. The story starts on June 17th, 2011.
Now, I bet you're wondering who I am and what the heck I'm talking about, right? Well, my name is Marcus Duke Bentley, everyone but my best friend calls me Mark, my best friend calls me Duke or Sir Duke to be funny. I look like your average white american fifteen year old boy. I am five foot six with light gray eyes. I have dark black hair that falls two inches below my ears and I have scars on my chest, back, arms, and legs. I am an over-achiever in school, I'll explain why later, and I am kind of shy-like. I'm quiet and typically obiedient to my father. I live on Gay Street in Royersford Pennsylvania.
Now for the interesting stuff. Ever since I was five years old I've been subject to child abuse by my father. It of course started as emotional abuse. I was yelled at and insulted so much that I thought of myself as useless. I was always getting locked in my room or the broom closet, a little three by three closet. Sometimes I'd be locked away and wouldn't either lunch or dinner, sometimes both. Later it became physical abuse. My dad would slap me whenever I was being "bad" or was doing something he didn't like. Slapping became punching and kicking, he twisted my arm and snapped it. He would brake my legs and arms and wrists and hands and ankles and ribs, but I always told people that it was -fill in the blank- sport.
Every kid delt with things like that their own way. Some kids brave up and tell someone while others shut up and keep it to themselves. I kept it to myself. I'd go to school early, like a half hour before school starts, and would leave late, like a half hour after school ends. That's also when I became an over-achiever. While I was locked in my room or the closet I would do all of my homework and extra credit work and sometimes my missed work. A few times dad would lock me in the closet after dinner and not let me out until after breakfast two days later. A side effect to all the abuse was that I found it hard to trust adult men, I'd get nervous because they remind me of my dad sometimes, I shut up and shy away from them.
I didn't do anything about it, I never did. A neighbor who's also a teacher, but not one of mine, did and you'll hear about her later on. What I'm going to start with is the beginning of the summer where it all began, where I lost my family and almost lost my... Well you'll see. The story starts on June 17th, 2011.
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I was given some advise to not include so much, so I redid this section