When did you realize that your parents don’t love each other?

The Surveillance Camera

My violent father trained me to snitch on my mother so he could discipline her. And if I didn’t do as he said, he’d discipline me. So, I broke and called CPS.

But my dad lied his way out of it and now knows I wanted to imprison him. I don’t even know what he’s going to do.

I was 5 years old when my mom burnt my food. It was my favorite, a grilled cheese sandwich, so I immediately burst into tears.

Suddenly, I heard my dad’s footsteps stomping down the stairs. My mom’s eyes became filled with fear, and she placed her hand on my mouth to stop me. This only made me cry harder.

“son, go to your room”. My dad’s tone was stern and cold.

As soon as I shut the door behind me, I heard the yelling. “I married you’re sorry, and you can’t even cook our son an effing meal”.

My blood turned cold, and that’s when I heard it. It sounded like my mom had collapsed to the floor.

I instinctively ran out to check on her, and that’s when I saw the area around her eye had completely swelled up. I fell to my knees to hug her and comfort her.

But that’s when my dad spoke. “Son, no need to comfort this w”. She got what she deserved.

I tried to ignore him and keep going, but stopped when he eventually started threatening to hit me, too. From there, my dad encouraged me to tell on my mom every day.

Any spot in the house that was left unclean, anytime she was late, picking me up. He told me it was to help her be better and that it was the best thing for the family.

But when that didn’t work, he started wailing on me whenever I didn’t tell him. That’s how most of my childhood was spent being a surveillance camera.

And sometimes I told my mom I would keep her mistakes a secret, but she would get really mad. “No, do what your father tells you,” she said.

Her voice was assertive and stern. So for years I assumed that it was just a normal part of family life, that abuse was just a part of life.

One day I was at my friend’s house and his parents were eating with us in the kitchen. He was the first friend I had made where both the parents were still together.

So I sort of felt like we understood each other until I bit into the hamburger that his mom had cooked. I noticed the bun had been pretty badly overtoasted.

“This is burnt,” I exclaimed out of instinct. I expected his dad to stand up and throw his mom across the room or at least slap her across the face.

Instead, he just laughed. “She’s always doing that”.

My friend nodded and the mom smiled while jokingly burying her face in her hands. Meanwhile, I was super tense, waiting for the ball to drop, except it never came.

And when I left, both his parents kissed me goodbye. As I walked home, my head was spinning.

When I entered the door, it was like I had stepped into another world. It was one far, far away from the home I had just been in.

My mom was curled up on the marble floor with red on her forehead, crying her eyes out. I could hear my dad snoring upstairs, so I went over to her.

She tried to push me away, but I told her to shut up while I treated her wounds. “I’m sorry for not being there for you, Mom”.

“I love you”. In response, she didn’t say anything.

She just gripped onto my arms super tight and nodded her head through the tears. The next day, I was done.

I woke up ready to betray my parents in the worst way possible. As soon as school ended, I didn’t go home.

I went to the police station. I wasn’t sure about the procedures and stuff, so I just blurted out everything in one go.

The violence, the manipulation, the emotional abuse. The woman looked really concerned and told me she would get a social worker to do an emergency home visit.

After an hour of waiting, the social worker showed up to the police station and told me she would come to my house that evening. She told me that it is extremely likely that my parents would figure out it was me.

That made my heart skip a beat. But this was followed by a promise that right after the home visit, she would help with an emergency rehousing for me and my mom.

I was so grateful that I couldn’t help but give her a hug. I went home with a smile on my face.

As promised, at 9:00 p.m., there was a knock on the door. My mom opened it, expecting it to be a family member.

Immediately, the social worker was faced with a woman covered in bruises and a black eye. I watched this all from the corner of the room.

When she figured out what was going on, my mom’s face went ghost white, and she immediately called my dad. I don’t know what else was said, but in just minutes, the social worker apologized for bothering us and left.

I knew my dad had tricked her. I tried to run up to my room, but it was too late.

My dad heard my footsteps and grabbed me. “If you think what I did to your mother was bad, you should see how my dad taught me to treat snitches”.

I won’t go into details about what happened next. I just remember waking up on my bedroom floor the next morning, everything hurting.

My mom had cleaned me up while I was passed out. She sat on the edge of my bed with this empty look in her eyes.

She whispered that she was sorry, but I needed to understand that we couldn’t ever tell anyone again. My dad had convinced the social worker that my mom’s injuries were from a car accident.

He convinced her that I was a troubled kid who made up stories for attention. School was hell that day.

I could barely sit at my desk without wincing. My teacher, Mrs. Kal, noticed and asked if I was okay.

I just nodded and said I fell off my bike. The lie came so easily.

I’d been telling them for years. After school, I didn’t go to Jacob’s house anymore, even though he invited me.

I was too scared my dad would find out. That night at dinner, my dad acted like nothing happened.