My earliest memory is of my sister. At the time she would have been seven years and myself four years old. I can remember standing in my parents home, it’s hallway outside their bedroom door. I was standing silently watching the horror taking place inside.
My sister was crying, my mother and father yelling at her. My mom is holding up a dust pan to my sister’s face, she keeps yelling at her to “eat it!” My father is saying some of the same, with every word instilling the fear of god into her. It was poo. My sister was being forced to eat her own poo.
I can remember weird details about this closet, and my parents room. I remember the bed being in front of a large window covered with dark curtains – that were always closed to keep others from seeing what was happening. I remember looking inside the…
View original post 598 more words