My Father

Before Birth

My dad isn't a saint. He would hit my mother because she refused to have sex with him. While my mom was pregnant with me inside of her womb. I was a few weeks away before I was due, and on the month of January my dad wanted to have sex with my mother. She refused because she didn't feel like it. My dad didn't like the response and pulled her by the hair before punching the back of her head. Not only did it hurt, my mother's water broke because of that punch. She left the room and went to my brother's and sister's room. She asked my brother if she could sleep on his bed. Him being the greedy, clueless 3-year-old he was said no. My mother then felt the labor contractions. She then drove herself with my siblings to the hospital. After a while there, I was born. Thankfully, I was born a healthy baby. I was born because my dad put his hands on my mother. What kind of a man beats his wife over something so stupid? If he wanted to fuck so badly he should have just gone to one of his prostitutes. Because around and before that time, he was cheating on my mom with many prostitutes. My mom later found out about his countless affairs when she received a vaginal infection that was transmitted to her from my dad. The doctor warned her that there was no way she could get this vaginal infection without it being transmitted first. She confronted him but of course he just called her a jealous crazy woman. I wished y mother left him sooner, she only stayed with him so that my siblings and I wouldn't be damaged from the divorce. I honestly thought my father loved me. I made so many excuses for his behavior, his drinking, his smoking, his abuse, and just everything. He wasn't always horrible. We've had our family moments. He taught me how to roller skate, how to ride a bike, and helped me with my math homework. He read me bed time stories, he taught me how to fix things, he got us puppies. But no matter I look at it, the amount of bad things he has done is nowhere near the amount of good things he has done for us. I guess the good things were father instincts. Sadly, I can never forgive him. I have tried. He is a horrible human being in my eyes and he will always be a horrible human being. He never called my mom cute pet names, instead my mom's nickname was "Fea". That's Spanish for "ugly". He continued to abuse my mom and once my siblings and I were old enough, the abuse came to us.