Ever since I was nine years old, I remember always thinking that my father was going to leave me. He always used to tell me that he was going to send me to live with my grandmother just to make me upset. He used to leave me alone in public, in the metro, in the mall, on the street.
My mother did that too. She used to leave me alone in the house for hours at a time when I was three. My neighbors had to call social services, and I was almost taken away. Sometimes I wish I was.
My father still does this to me, even now that im a senior. Where I live, you have to be eighteen to drive. I’m seventeen. He’s left me on the side of the road before, pulling over and yelling at me to get out.
One night I came home and saw that he had completely emptied my drawers and thrown my clothes across the room. I slept on the porch that night.
And people wonder why I have such low self esteem.