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My Father Is A Snake

My father is a snake. Not my biological father, but my real father – the one who raised me. He is a liar, a thief, and a murderer; evil in his innermost being. He always has been and always will be.

My biological Father is a good man; loving, generous, and honest. Unlike my real father, my biological father loves and cares for his children. He feeds them, clothes them, and even disciplines them for their good.

But my father is a snake. I have not always seen him for who he really is, but now I do. Now I understand. Before, he was all I knew. I didn’t know what good was, I didn’t know what love was, I didn’t know what freedom was. The house I was raised in was dark. My father gave me sugar when I needed milk, and candy when I needed nourishment. But that was all I knew.

How did such an evil man come to have legal guardianship over me? Well, the place where I was born was not a good place. The law was corrupt. So, on the day I was born I was taken from my biological father and given to my legal guardian. You know, he never even wanted me. Until the day my biological father sent his son to get me.

I will never forget that day. There was a knock at the door and when my father opened the door… Well, you would have thought that he had seen a ghost. He panicked; desperately trying to shut the door back. But the son, he was too strong for him.

The son called to me, “Run! Get out of here.” But I couldn’t run. In fact, I was so malnourished that I could barely move. And the light glaring through the door, it hurt my eyes so bad that I couldn’t even look at it. Part of me wanted to leave, but to be honest … I was simply too afraid. That dark house was all I had ever known.

The son could see my helpless state, so he came to me, picked me up off the floor and carried me out of that house. The light was painful and the fresh air almost made me sick. I cried as I left reaching back for that hellhole that I called home.

But now that I am living with my biological father I see things much more clearly. It took a while, but the milk, bread, and meat my brother feeds me have made me strong. My eyes have adjusted to the light, my stomach has adjusted to the diet, and I know for sure that this is where I truly belong. I even discovered that look like my dad!

My father is snake. He still calls to me every once in a while, begging me to come back home, reminding me how sweet the candy tasted. But my father is a snake – I see that now. So when he comes around – reminding me of my failures, pointing out bruises that haven’t healed yet, talking about all the things we still have in common – I remind him of the day my big brother came into his house, bound him up, and took whatever he wanted. He hates that story!

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