I don’t wish to get judged on or get viewed differently as I tell my story.

I was nine or ten at the time. I was sharing a house with my grandma, grandpa, uncle, brother, and my uncle’s friend. My mother wasn’t there for me at the time because she left me for a year to be with her boyfriend. My grandma is deaf, cannot hear, cannot talk, and is partly blind. As for my grandpa, he was schizophrenic, deaf, and cannot talk. The way I communicate with my grandparents is that I know sign language. My brother and I would always get beat up by my grandpa for no reason. He was mental. He would talk to himself, and look at me and spit on my face. I was confused. I never knew how it really felt to be loved by my family except from my grandma. She was always there, but she couldn’t do anything when my grandpa abused us. He would lock us in the closet for hours and forget about us. My grandma would find us and tell us everything would be okay. I knew everything would be okay, but I just didn’t know when. It was thanksgiving. I was watching Courage the Cowardly dog on Cartoon network with my younger brother which was five or six. My uncle’s friend came through the door and his legs was bloody and he came to tell us that my grandpa got a knife and started slashed his legs with no real reason why. My uncle got home and my uncle’s friend just explained to him what happened. I was sitting on the floor watching them argue. My grandpa got the knife and stabbed my uncle numerous times, slicing his neck and stabbing his stomach. He fell. My grandpa looked at me with an evil look and told me in sign language that I was the devil. I knew right then, he wanted to kill me. I ran and took my brother with me. I ran to my uncle’s room and locked the door. I hid in the closet with my brother holding a balloon. (I didn’t have stuffed animals, all I had was a balloon from the carnival I went to a day before. My grandpa would destroy or throw away any toy I had.) I gripped it tight, I thought I was going to die. My brother’s cries filled the whole room, I kept telling him to be calm down. I heard banging on the door, I was scared for my life. I thought it was him. My grandpa. I heard it was my uncle’s voice, I quickly opened the door. He was crawling, handing me the phone saying to call 911. I didn’t call 911, I called my mom. I only knew her number by heart, she didn’t pick up. I left a voicemail crying “Mom.. where are you?! Uncle is dying, I need you” My uncle’s friend snatched the phone from me and called 911. The police didn’t come until 20 minutes later. In the meantime, my uncle’s friend held down my grandpa. My uncle was laying in a puddle of blood. He wasn’t moving. I sat there next to him, hugging him. I cried so much that the tears would sting my face. My grandma just stood there, and pulled me away from my uncle. The police came. They arrested my grandpa, and I looked at him in disgust. He was trying to break free until they tazed him. The ambulance rushed in to care for my uncle. They interviewed me and told me I won’t ever have to see my grandpa again. My uncle was hospitalized for two weeks, and lived. He couldn’t go to college anymore because he was behind in everything. My grandpa got sentenced seven years.

This event has changed me to the person I am now. Every thanksgiving, this event is a reminder to how thankful I am that my uncle saved my life. How thankful I am still here today. How thankful I don’t have my deadbeat grandpa around to abuse me or my brother anymore. How thankful I am for everything. I may have a dysfunctional family, but I am here standing strong. You think you got it bad? Look at other people’s stories and lives. Be thankful for what you got, especially your family members that’s been there. So in my uncle’s honor, my goal is to be the first one who graduates college in my mom’s side of the family.