All of us have skeletons in our closets, moments in time we wish we could change. Take for example, what my adoptive father did. His selfishness and sickness literally destroyed our family. In 1997, his niece came to live with us. Her mother, who happens to be a major slut, decided to leave her with us so she could seek the almighty cock. Over the next 3 years or so, the young girl lived with us. During that time, she was exposed to a true monster. Like so many young people, she was my molested. Who was the perpetrator? Well, it just so happens that it was my dad. You think that's bad? Well, it gets worse. There was yet another victim. See, her friend was at our house a lot. Being the upstanding citizen he was... he molested her as well. Why did she come to our house and subject herself to the abuse? Well, there's a simple answer to that question. Her own brother had been doing the same thing to her for years. Yes, this innocent girl was molested repeatedly from the time she was 4 until the time she was 12. When she was in the hospital, they found out that she had some kind of infection, one that was caused by what he had done. At this time, I was 19. I was working at a nursing home on 3-11 shift at the time. It was a cold February night. I arrived home right around midnight. Normally I got home when my parents were asleep. Only, this night my mom was still awake. Why may you ask? Well, the sheriff's department had arrested him. That night I received the shock of my life. I had to ask myself how I could have been oblivious. Apparently, he was very sneaky about it, preying on them in the middle of the night when everyone else was asleep. Of course, there were also times when everyone else was gone, and of course the sick bastard took full advantage.

How did this make me feel? I felt betrayed. How could the man who raised me do something so viscious to anyone. These kids had already been through enough. He took what innocence they had left. I couldn't take it. That's when I started using drugs heavily. My drugs of choice were marijuana and methamphetamine. I had already been smoking weed on a regular basis, but this simply made it worse. I needed to be numb in order to avoid dealing with the harsh realities. I am lucky that I didn't end up in prison myself. Not only was I using methamphetamine, but I was also helping to produce it. My part was to go shopping for the necessary materials. What was my reward? Well, I was soon tweaked out of my f**king mind. It's a blast of energy like nothing anyone who has not used can even imagine. There's no need to sleep and no need to eat, though you tend to drink quite a bit, and I don't mean alcohol. Believe it or not, alcohol has little effect when one is tweaking. When I look back on this time, I feel ashamed. I probably did permanent damage to myself. This was one of the worst times that I can remember.

As for my dad, he was sentenced to 20 years in prison for his crimes. His family disowned him, all except mom (and to an extent) me. I actually decided to go with her. She needed the support, and I was there for her. She would visit him every weekend. Why she stayed with him, I have nary a clue. I went every once in a while and even remained civil even though I really didn't like the idea. As I have mentioned before, he is now dead. Back in July of 2004, he had a stroke in his brain stem. He ended up on a respirator for several weeks. In the midst of that, he was granted a medical parole. Soon after, we sought guardianship, for he could not make decisions for himself. If anyone remembers Terri Schiavo, he was actually worse off than she was. We ended up moving back to this area, though we were on the Missouri side. This was in June of 2005 that we returned. By April of the next year he was dead.

Now I have revealed of myself, a past that has left me a bitter man. It's a difficult journey I have led, and I am just now really picking up the pieces. It's difficult to trust anyone. I'm afraid people will either abandon me or betray me in some way. I am extremely wary of people, because I have learned the hard way that the people you trust are not always who they appear to be. Child molesters don't look like monsters. I hardly think they are human, but they certainly appear to be.