I let my 30-year-old cousin beat me up, and it was the best day of my life.
Isolation, Abuse, and Provocation
My psycho cousin is threatening to hurt my family if we don’t give him more money. So, I’m setting him up and risking my life to put him in prison.
My parents are the type of people who should have never had kids. When I was seven, I got the flu.
And as I was throwing up into the toilet bowl, I begged my mom for some medicine. But instead, she just put a breathing exercise on YouTube and reminded me to inhale until my diaphragm expands all the way.
Meanwhile, my dad was a workaholic. So, by the time I was 16, I was basically one of those emo freaks who looked like the store Spencers or Hot Topic was made for them.
But it was all for one simple reason, to cope with my unbearable loneliness. I was an only child with no friends. And when I wasn’t blaring music on full volume on my headphones or playing with my cat, it was a feeling that was basically impossible to ignore.
And it was on my 18th birthday that I got the text. It was my aunt wishing me a happy birthday on WhatsApp. I didn’t even know what to say.
So, I just reacted with the heart emoji. And I guess one thing led to another because she ended up inviting me to stay with her and her family in Pennsylvania.
Sometimes I wish I never said yes because to this day, she’s still one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. The type to spend her time sitting on a bench on the street and writing wholesome poems about everyone who walked by.
And the first thing her husband, my uncle, told me when I arrived was that he was happy to have me. And there was something about the way he smiled and the look in his eyes that made me believe he was telling the truth.
Even my two cousins showed me around the entire city and paid for everything. It made me so depressed knowing that there was a part of my family I was hidden from, one where I actually felt loved.
So, I was fast asleep at 2 a.m. with a smile on my face when I heard the front door of the house slam open. I then heard footsteps going into my uncle and aunts room, followed by glass breaking on the floor.
“Give me $50,” the voice bellowed. I honestly thought we were being robbed and I expected my uncle to shoot him down, but instead he replied with, “We already gave you $70 this week, Trent. That’s way over the limit.”
Suddenly, the shelf was knocked to the floor.
“Okay, we’re paying it now. Please leave us alone.” My aunt cried.
Turns out Trent is my abusive older cousin with an unconventional nighttime routine. He leaves the house at 8:00 p.m.
Gets wasted on whatever he can with the money his parents give him, then comes home and manipulates them for more. At the time, I didn’t really care because it was still a thousand times better than the home I grew up in.
Plus, my other cousins, Samuel and Daisy, swore he’d never hurt me. But the more I found out, the more scared I became.
Apparently, he was schizophrenic and had threatened the entire family multiple times, and I was pretty much able to ignore it until one day when I was on a late night walk with my uncle.
He was lifting his arms up to stretch when I saw the bruises on his stomach area. My eyes widened.
Well, my uncle was always pretty open about stuff, so he told me straight away, “Trent did it.” His tone was sad, like it was just another daily occurrence rather than straight up abuse.
It was after I told him he was 30 and he’d been living the same shitty life for 10 years, that he couldn’t keep living off us and had to get a job. I buried my face in my hands, but that’s when he whipped out his big black iPhone.
On it were dozens of texts from Trent. “You’ll die alone and unloved.”
“You don’t care about anyone but yourself, you worthless piece of Just watch. I’m going to make your life so bad, you’ll kill yourself.”
And for his grand finale, “I’ll shatter your kneecaps so hard you’ll never walk right again.” My jaw literally dropped.
All these messages were back to back. And worst of all, it was all because my uncle refused to send him $5 for more alcohol.
Over the next few days, I found out he’d been hitting my aunt, his literal mother, and threatened my cousins, too. But one day, my uncle said something that changed everything.
“Yeah, since it’s always at home, he’s never a public threat, so the police don’t care.” It was like a light bulb moment.
So that same exact day, I asked Trent to go on a walk with me, he agreed because I told him I agreed to buy him some of the devil’s lettuce. And halfway through the walk, when we were on the busiest street in Pennsylvania, I said it.
“Dude, you’re lowkey an effing joke. Like, you’re 30 and live off your parents. I’m 20 and I make more money than you.”
L M AO. I then laughed in his face.
All you do is let yourself be an addicted man baby while you cry about how it’s mommy and daddy’s fault. Suddenly, I was interrupted by him pushing me down to the floor.
He kicked me so hard I was coughing up red. I could practically feel my windpipe being destroyed.
But within just 2 minutes, cop cars showed up and he was arrested. You see, I knew if I got him to beat me up, a harmless 20-year-old girl, then law enforcement would be forced to step in.
But what I didn’t anticipate was the jails being overcrowded and him being let out on good behavior after just two weeks in a cell.
