Posted by: Briar Rose | June 9, 2007

My Friend’s Step Mother From Hell

8 pm.

Kristy, my super close friend and classmate since elementary days at the Assumption College came over for dinner. She just went home from Brazil. I never thought I would succumb to the Havianas sensation again until she gave me my second pair of the violet Slim edition — the first one was also a joyously given gift. I never really bothered myself buying a pair of slipper for almost a thousand pesos. That’s bllsh*t. She said that Havaianas are worn there by ordinary people. You can even buy Havaianas at the local grocery store and at the ordinary sari sari stores.

Anyways, let’s get on with the real meat.

I’m really proud of Kristy. She have faced a lot of hardships, but refused to be melodramatic or self-pitying. Brave girl. I witnessed her life as she grew up and how she continually suffered hardships in different realms of life.

She was 7 when her mother died of Breast CA. Two years later, her father remarried. But insted of being embraced by her new step mom, Kristy became the target of her abuse and the outcast of the family. At 10, she had no idea that her life was about to become a living hell. Despite the emotional abuse she had endured, she always held on to the hope that things would get better. She just had no idea how long she’d have to suffer before they did.

I remember everything vividly…

I didn’t told anyone about the situation, because I always thought it was a private family issue. And no one really seemed to notice that even her own father! I don’t know whether he ignored it or if it somehow didn’t sink in, but he never did anything to protect Kristy from the step mom. Kristy just endured all the abuse until one night in the middle of our freshman year of high school. My mom and dad was over for dinner and saw the step mom screamed from top of her lungs at Kristy for accidentally dropping a napkin.

After the meal, I followed her into her room and suggested she live with us. She didn’t asked questions. While I knew that she wasn’t happy about leaving her Dad and sister, I knew that she couldn’t wait to get away from her step mom. My uncle and grand father took care of the legal arrangements — I don’t know what discussions she had with my parents and her step mom — but a few days later, she moved into our house. She stayed with us until she graduated from high school and left for Brazil. At any rate, all I cared about was that the abuse was over.

It’s been years since she left. By mere looking into her eyes over a glass of wine, I knew that the scars were still fresh. The only thing that shocked me a bit was when she said she’s ready to make amends with her step mom.

Tomorrow, I’ll chauffeur her back to their house at San Lorenzo Village, Makati.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Categories

%d bloggers like this: