Living in Darker Light by Susan Tucker (best books to read in your 20s txt) 📕

Living in darker light
by Susan Tucker

You can call me a lost Soul a person with no desire but that is just the complete oppisite.
Im a person with a desion that needs to promply be made in life either to go forward or to stay lost.

I grew up in not so happy home, My father was Drug addict and and Major drunk that always had a bad temper could quite figure out why he was anger all the dame time.
My father was Ex Airforce man i guess he was mad at the fact he couldnt serve his country any more ? Maybe that why he took his anger on my mom and I the Most.

My mother was a sweet woman who married him i guess you can call her unlucky and lucky because where she came from was not the Charles darwin of living you know the adapt or die affect.

My mom i can say addapited to my father abusive ways I guess she felt like it was the only way to get out of that country my mom describes my father not acting that way when she married him that he was sweet and loving sometimes; I yet to belive her til this day. The shit i went threw was like Hell on fucking Earth.

Guns to my head verbal and constant phyical abuse, running just in my prison of what people i my call Family which this case wasnt very much to lean on due fact of fucking idiot i had to live with.


I felt like my father made his choice. He chose drinking.I can remember as a little girl at night i seen him cussing out the air; like he had a vendta agaist it. I always thought therpy would been great but , therpy cost i guess taking out on us was a cheaper version of it.
To describe my own personal hell well if you like waking up like you were in basic training everyday thats how it was ;dont get me wrong we had our good days but the bad morely out weighed that.

I could vegally remember at 5 years old looking for my mom; Father was just arguing with her all can hear is crying and screaming , a scream of im sorry please stop then .....Nothing i get up i dress in one piece pjs you know the one zipper ones. Well i get up i see this stuff on the floor it was red and runny okay ur asking your self how i know my colors well thanks to Sesame street.

I was semi educated at the time and the smell was unbareable, it was a mess all over the floor it was scence of of horor film. My father stab my mother with a knife a Bowa and she was crying for help instead of getting the police or anyone else involved my father seen that she wouldnt get up so proceded to pour cold water on her that made her come alive she screamed for help again.

I hear the fear in my father voice not wanting anyone or anything involved he went to her aided help her put rags on her wound and stiched her up. He sent me to my room.

The days were much better for me it was a sence of relif an escape from all the bullshit that seem to only take place more at night it was how can describe night of the living nightmare.

The relif came early just as God shined his light on me my alarm clock would wake me with that annoying beep..beep wanting to ignore it my mom would come in and wake us cause it seemed that any fucking on going noise in house would bother the beast.

My mother not wanting us to go to school upset and frustrated she shuts it off, helping us get ready by this time i was like 12 and the only help mainly that i reqiured was love and lunch money for school.

As i seen my father it was like God gave me the strength to never give up it felt like that i was not that was afraid i felt that i was always the strong one in a weak situation, I had to grow up fast.

Sitting in that tan lay-z boy recliner chair rocking back and forth was an evil presence that sat there just waiting brewing at evil thoughts; evil things of tourcher and humilation just waiting for nightfall.

When I got home that day everything seemed to be fine no noise or anything at the time ... to tell you I never understood all the drama that occured why was he so angrey maybe it was secret that was there i didnt know about but, what was it? As i started to put the puzzle pieces together.

I stared at a child hood picture that would hang in hallway of my house i could automatically just tell I knew what was brewing the secreat that maybe my mother kept but was too afraid to revel it, and she only paying the price thru abuse he kept putting her threw maybe she felt it was what she had to go thru to get freedom.

i just dont understand why would a beauitful person with such a kind heart would sacrfice herself in that way i guess sometimes you got to be a Marter in your own world well expect she didnt die she just sufferd thru it.

As I got older i started to relize that i didnt have to take all this shit i was going threw and niether did my mother nor my sister, which for her i felt the whole time the abuse was taking place it was neither directed towards her just us my mother and I.
Mom was not from here she came from Island country called the Philipines province called Cebu city.

The Queen City of the South boasts of famed Cebuano hospitality and faith, Cebu City is located on the central eastern part of Cebu Province, an island at the center of the Visayas in Southern Philippines.
My mother grew up in small hut no electricty running water where snakes and rats were uninvited guest and big family of 11 kids my mothers mom died at 5 years old from Black magic if you belive in it it will consume you it was over a Bananna tree.

Her family was poor her father was very abusive too i felt my mother wanted to escape that so education wasnt on her to do list. She told me she didnt go school she wanted to work. As the youngest child in the family she felt neglected far from comforting arms of mother becasue she was gone and running from her father he was abusive as well.

All the love she wanted was never there so my mother did what no teenager did at the time she ran away from home and ran from place to place until she settle in place called Angles city another part of the philipines Angeles City is entertainment capital of the Philippines. It distinguishes itself as one of the fastest-growing cities outside of Metro Manila.

Her country was so poor that work was freedom to make money or go hungry. My mother was a strong person working as a housekeeper or a bar girl. She kept the house where girls sold them self to American Military men to get by. My mother wasnt like that she just help keep the place up.
I know my mother wasnt having that or doing anything against her will. she been thru enough.
As mother sat at the bar where she worked she say saw him.

My father he sat there trying to get her attention her mind wasn't foucused on him at all. She's slick with her mouth told him to give a try to other girls. He offically declined that offer he kept persuing her his efforfts finally paid off. He got my mother attention they went on there very first date.

As months went on it was hard labor with my mother they took me from C-section i was a premie baby 28 weeks anyways u can say i came fast in the world; God put me here my father wasnt so kind to her during her pregnancy a partyer rich kid with the money aslways bought his friends. It was hime being a rolling stone him being unfaithful her always taking abuse.

My mother never desirved the shit went through just made her stronger. Time went lil further sister was bron bounced around until we settle in North Carolina Where he's from Nice City Called Raleigh.

The new house my father bought the big land we hand you can call family very lucky. I belived my mom felt lucky to be with him to have what she never had was Love.