unwritten by Timothy Terry (best feel good books txt) 📕

and he would pop me in the face. Once he told me “if I ever flinched while he was holding a knife hes cut me”. He chased me out of the house with a butcher knife. Iv always had a fear of weapons.
Another time I recall can recall is when I was running around the house in my underwear (which may I add I was not permitted to do) my dad got really mad. He said
“I told you, your not aloud to fucking run around the house in your underwear. He mad me strip down to my underwear and kicked me out of the house for the rest of the afternoon in my underwear.

He left me out there for about ten, or fifteen minutes.
My dad, my dad, my stepmother where so cruel to me and my sister lea. We still fought, but I think we still got through it together.
We got through it together. I think that's a true brother sister bond. Like we knew each other forever.
My dad and me later reconciled and iv finally come to peace with it all.
He was later diagnosed with bipolar ism. Which explains a lot of the was he treated us.
I have a good relationship with lea. We talk, laugh. I love my sister. I will talk about how our relationship is tested.
Later it got to the point, my father treating me so wrong that my grandmother finally got so fed up that she allowed me to live with my mother in Texas.
Me and my mother already had plans for me to move in with her after that school year. This was just quicker and easier.
I dint know what battles where in store for me later. I really dint. It would be an up hill battle.

I guess it really wasn’t better as I though it would be, but I dint know it at the time.
My strength would really be tested later, in life. It would really be tested by god in the hardest way. I guess this was only the beginning of my hard times.


Two:
Never look down on anybody unless you're helping them up-The Reverend Jesse Jackson, American civil rights leader


My grandmother moved me down to gainesville Texas. I hadn’t seen my mother in probably in like two or three years, so at first it was awkward. My mother said “ hi how was your plane ride”real bubbly.
“Fine” I answered.
My mother then began to explain the rules of my uncles house and
I just thought to myself how dare you not come and visit me for three years and be nice to me. It really bothered me. Looking back on that now I know my mother couldn’t of visit me in Alabama because she dint have the money.
My mother had moved to Texas about three years prior. She had worked at a minimun wage job as a nurses aid at the local nursing home.
She had been living in a small room at my great uncle Boyds house.
At first me and my mother shared the room, for about a month or maybe two. She had been saving up for her own place for a while. We found a all bills paid two room apartment. My mother was a little better than my dad.
We fought, a lot. Sometimes really bad and violent. My biological grandmother would always take up for my mother. Even when she was wrong.
My mother and me never really got along. It always seemed there was never a day we could go without one of us, me or her would start an argument. One argument would turn into a fight.
My mother wasn't a very good mother. Ever. Yeah she took care of me. That's not all a mother should do. She always hit me, when id upset her. Whether it was with her hand and other objects. If there was a broom around it would be with a broom. If it was a knife it would be with a knife. She of course never cut me but shed have it to my face or throat.
She said one time when we where arguing “ shut you fuckin mouth up or ill cut you”. She never cut me. She would have been to scared to do it, but she did threaten.
There where a few fights that I did defend myself and hit my mother back. I remember my mother punched me and I slapped her in her face calling her a bitch. It felt good to fight back. I did apologize as she did too.

I think that taking care of me isn't the only thing she should show me support and love.
I think the reason she always seemed to feel to do that is because her mother never did that for her.
She never would say congratulations when I would win a contest, or win a medal e.t.c.
She did give attention to my sister though, it was always something like, god for you baby, or you deserve it. Everyone wanted to see lea plat soft ball.
Makes me think of that one Brady bunch episode, marsh, Marsha, marsh. In my case lea, lea, lea. I just felt so invisible through my whole childhood.
The only thing thing that ever made me feel un invisible (if that is a word) is my writings. When I would place in writing contest. I remember one contest was a black history month contest. I wrote a poem of the same name, and dint win but I won a medal. I felt so good. Everyone was congratulating me, I knew I loved writing and knew I would make it in the writing industry.
My mother never raised any of her kids. Neither me or my sister. My brother josh nor sister misty. She never did anything for my brothers Mathew or my brother chis.
I think the reason she never did raise any of her kids might have a factor to do with the fact that she had her first baby, my eldest sister misty at the young tender age of only thirteen.
I guess we all make mistakes in life, but her mistake effected all of us in a big way.
My mother also did a lot of drugs while she was still pregnant with my brother Christopher. She did drugs until she was seven months pregnant. She claimed that she truly dint know she was pregnant until she was seven months along, but I really don't believe that.
As a cause of the many different drugs she did while she was pregnant with him he has many multiple mental disabilities such as , bipolar disorder, and ad hd, add, borderline retarded, e.t.c.
My mother worked nights at a nursing home. So we had plenty, and plenty of space. Id be at school by the time shed get home. Shed be sleeping by the time id get home.
It may sound taboo, but really made it work. School was like going to my own personnel hell.
People where so cruel to me. I’m gay (though I wasn’t out at that time) they where mean to me. It was pretty noticeable that I was gay. All the signs where there, the way I talked, the way I walked, acted E.T.C.
They would say things like, go suck a cock fagot, or your a fucking flaming fagot.
They where so mean to me. I remember one specific time. There was this boy, well just call him Charlie from now on. I remember charlie was cruel not only to me, but to everyone else. Charlie liked to push me down the hall, and hit me. The one specific time that has really stuck with me and haunt me was I was waiting for the teachers to call my bus and he sat down right next me, so coldly. He was in band and used drum sticks to beat me in the back of the head. He did so several times. It made the back of my neck so red and it really hurt.
He did all this so coldly without emotions. His eyes where like white when I looked into them. No color in his eyes what so ever. He said this doing this “ this is what you get stupid fag”.
I Said to him “stop that hurts, why are you doing this”? Because “I don’t like you stupid fag”. He then started to pop me in my face, the whole time while saying “ stop hitting yourself, stop hitting yourself, butt fucker”.
They finally informed me that my bus arrived, and l;like a prisoner released from prison after what felt like twenty years.
I cried alone in the back seat where no one could see me through the whole bus ride home. When I got home I cried until I fell asleep. I just cant seem to understand why he is just so unpleasant. He is one of the most evil souls on this planet, that I have ever met.
That incident has stuck with me for ever. I had bad dreams, about it and him. I always wonder when I think about him “why is he so mean”? I think something happened to people like him. Mean people. I think no one loved him when he was little and it traumatized him.

After that day I seemed to stay away from him. Whenever I sall him in the halls id run away. Id walk really fast nervousness, id hide behind a teacher.
I felt like a coward. I wish I fought back, but I thought he would hurt me.


But he was not the only cruel bully I had. In physical education there where also a group of boys that tourtered me for the way I was. They would verbally assult me, as physically. They liked to push me.
They would pants me. Pantsing someone is referring to, pulling there p;ants down to there ankle. It was so embarrassing that no one seemed to like me.
Its sorta a blur what this group of boys exactly did. That part of my life is a blur. Kinda like seeing an old movie.
I remember one specific time when there where this one mean group of boys who where sexually harassing me. They where pushing me and sexually insulting me. I remember running to the boys bathroom and crying in there.
I lied to my teacher I had period and, told some kind of lie to go to the bathroom, I stayed in there and cried.
I hated school, sometimes id miss my bus in the morning, on purpose. Id “accidentally” miss my bus. Or id get ill and just lie to get out of school.
School was like my dads house. Another hell for me. Although it did get better.


I got a big group of friends. Eventually I had one friend specifically named Michelle, everyone was always so mean to her. This was into 8th grade, or something like that, and I was really the only one who was truly nice to her.
Maybe it was because she was hugely over weight about twenty pounds the size she should have been at her age3, and cheap bad makeup put on to cover her acne. And her hair looked like it hasn't been brushed since fifth grade.
She was the 2nt