When I was Fourteen BY Michelle Cardoza

When I was Fourteen BY Michelle Cardoza

My stepdad tried to kill my mother when I was 14. He was
the only father I ever had. Never did I imagine being in
this position. Never did I think our father-daughter relationship
would break apart. Never did I think my lovely daddy
could be capable of killing the woman I love and admire so
much. I was daddy’s little girl my whole life. I was close to
him. I loved him. Now I don’t know what I feel for him. I don’t
hate him nor do I love him.
It was an ordinary night, but he and my mother started arguing.
He had hit my mother twice before, when I was younger.
They always hated each other but tolerated one another
for the sake of my sister and me. An argument turned ugly.
His huge hands were around my mother’s fragile neck, getting
tighter and tighter. Her hands were in the air. She could not
move from the shock. My sister and I began to hit him until,
finally, he let her go. I ran to my room and tried to call 911. He
grabbed my leg and took away all the phones.
I will never forget the evil glare in his reddened eyes. I saw
that he was not himself; he was on something, and his actions
and his voice were different from anything I’d ever seen or
heard. He was not my dad, he was the devil.
I ran to my aunt’s house and she called 911, but he had
already left the house with my dog.
The police arrived at our house and asked what happened.
They left to search for him and found him 20 minutes later.
I could not look at him, I was so scared. I took my dog, and
once we were back home, I cried while my cousin held me. I
felt as my life had flipped upside down. I was devastated. My
lovely father had become a psycho. He went to jail, but wasn’t
deported. That night I lost a dad.
He is no longer the man I adored. He’s just a man who took
care of me for 14 years. He is the man who was there when
my real father wasn’t. I thank him for raising me and always
providing for all of us. To him, I am his daughter. I do not hate
this man who ruined my life, but if I don’t hate him at least a
little, I feel as if he has won.
To this day I see him once a week. We have nothing to say
to each other. I forgive him, but I will never forget what he did.
My stepdad tried to kill my mother when I was 14.

2 Responses to When I was Fourteen BY Michelle Cardoza

  1. Very powerful. How fragile parent and step-parent relationships can be. How brave of Michelle to share this experience. The conflict between love and hate is made clear through her words – I admire her for seeing her step-dad once a week. Love has prevailed as much as it possible could, under the hurtful circumstances Michelle describes.

    May I have persmission to publish Michelles story in one of my blogs? I will give full attribution to her and to POPS.

    • Yes, you have permission, Mark, thank you. I’m sorry it has taken me so long to reply. Dad passed away last month so everything has run slowly… Thank you for continuing to read and support POPS the Club.