Archive for the 'abuse' Category
August 29, 2007

Real Teens, Real Stories, Real Life was my first book, published in 2002. I met so many teens as I wrote this book. Many of their stories were powerful. One of those most amazing and difficult story was written by a teen named Nichole.
In her story, on page 69, titled “A Place to Call Home”, she shared what it was like to be raised in a home where dad raised marijuana, where they were kicked out of their home, or ran from police.
One day her parents took all of their belongings to a storage shelter. They left behind all of their furniture, but they also left something else very important behind at that storage building:
Eleven-year-old Nichole. (more…)
Filed under: real story, abuse, real interviews, family
August 28, 2007
City of Warm Rain
by Lydia Rule
This story is dedicated to children across the world who know or have known the torments of an abuser.
The rain is falling, falling from the dark night sky. Each one slaps my face with its frigid presence. Like prisms, the raindrops shatter on the ground beside me.
My skin is a sheath of ice. My blue lips can feel only the pounding of the rain. Perhaps this is not the beginning that you would expect from a story titled “City of Warm Rain”, but it is my story, as short as that may be.
I am lost in this city. I am somewhere alongside an exit ramp to some highway. The cars race by me as I sit alone in a muddy patch of grass. The headlights look bright and warm as they whiz by. (more…)
Filed under: abuse, lydia rule
June 27, 2007
I love my boyfriend, but he hits me and says cruel things when he is angry. Last night we were walking in a dark parking lot and he pushed me and called me a (derogatory term) just because I didn’t agree with something he said. He has his good moments and that’s when I realize how much I love him. I’m torn. Carey W., Age 16
Filed under: abuse, dating, real advice
June 13, 2006
Looking for a Father by Ashley P., Guest Writer
By
the time I was three my parents were divorced and my dad was already remarried. It’s hard when your parents separate, but harder when your three and one of them tells you that it’s all your fault.
Growing up, I wanted what everyone else seemed to have. A Father. Someone who would look out for me, hold me on bad days, and tell me I was his little princess.












