Hello, all. Ethan here with a short story I'd like to tell. Back in my home town of Newport, Oregon, my life when I was no more than seven years old was pretty horrifying. There would be days that my father would come home from work, when he had work. And start yelling at my mother for no apparent reason, and then he'd turn to me or my brothers and start taking whatever happened out on us. This went on for three years; my mother took us and left my father when I was ten. And I couldn't thank her enough for pulling me and my brothers out of there before it was too late.

Did you have a hole to a playground in your closet?

Actually, no. I meant that my father would beat me or my brothers whenever he had a bad day...

Don't get all defensive, boy. I got your drift.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. Guess thinking about my real father ticks me off.

Ethan, that's why I don't even watch the tape I got in my party box.... the dredging up of old ugly memories...

Yeah, you're right. I guess I shouldn't have made this thread.

Yeah, you're right. I guess I shouldn't have made this thread.


well, if you want, this thread can be moved to the Garden so that people can be praying for you if you want. :- just let me or one of the other mods know. :)

Thanks, unshakeable. I'd appreciate that.

Thanks, unshakeable. I'd appreciate that.


you're welcome. :)

i'm sorry this ever happened to you, i wish it would have been me that it happened to so you would never have had to deal with it

wow that is really sad...but thank God your mom pulled you guys out of all that!

Why was this necroed...?