-2-

Thanks to my experience with my cousin, I have become more careful. And only because of this I was able to protect a cousin and her two brothers, yes, you can see I have a great relation, from abuse.

Once we were walking along the railroad tracks when a man stood there and peed. My youngest cousin was curious. The man turned around and asked my little cousin, "Do you want to see it again?" I dragged my cousin to me and screamed as loud as I could.

Instead of talking about it, they talked about one of our uncles being Bi Sexual and in a relationship with a man. I didn't care about that at all. But many of my relatives did. This was the top topic in all the celebrations. My parents, however, always just said, love is love, it doesn't matter to them with whom he is with.

A few weeks later, I saved my cousin. An older man, he was drunk, was sitting at the playground and my cousin willingly accepted candy from him. I felt the suspicion. And suddenly the man took money from his wallet, showed it to my cousin and said, "If you touch it, I'll give you the money."

She seemed to think about it seriously. The man unzipped his trousers, my cousin was still thinking, she was three years younger than me and at that time I was 13 years old, I looked around in panic for help, I saw my father and my uncle, called out for them and the man ran away.

I admit, I hit my cousin on the back of the head and scolded her for her stupidity.

In the same week we had been to the little woods, it was once a huge garden. We often went there and played. There was a rope hanging from a huge oak tree, and we used to swing back and forth on it. We played hide-and-seek in the bushes and built hiding places from discarded things.

So when we were there again, we hid in a bush when we saw a naked man. He lay down in the high grass, so we could see very little. I saw his butt moving up and down and got a queasy feeling in my stomach.

I grabbed a branch, sneaked up on the man who was tormenting a little girl. I hit the branch over his head, grabbed the little naked, unconscious, bleeding girl and carried her until we reached our neighborhood. I asked the first adult person I met for help.

It was a woman, she called the police and the ambulance. The police took me with them and I had to show them where it happened. The man was still lying there. He was still unconscious and slightly injured. The police officers arrested him. About a month later I learned that the girl was getting better and that she was recovering. I even received an award, but I was not proud of it.

Well, and when I turned 14 years old, I learned something about my oh so great family, which really tore the ground from under my feets.

I had just finished class and wanted to go home. I hadn't even reached the school gate when an angry young man came up to me and punched me in the face. I didn't know who he was or what I should have done to deserve such a thing.

He stared at me sinisterly and suddenly shouted: "You deserve much more! How dare you ask our father to go on vacation with you and your mother?"

I don't remember ever asking my father to go on vacation with me and my mother. I said, "I don't know anything about it? What are you talking about and what do you want from me?"

The guy grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, dragged me on my feet and asked me: "Isn't it enough that my mother has had to share her husband with your mother for 20 years? Is it not enough that I can only see my father every two weeks because of you and your mother?"

"What? What did you say?" I asked, confused.

"Your mother is only my father's concubine and she has no right to make any claims. And the same goes for you, you bastard."

"Concubine? What does that mean? What are you talking about? My mother is not a concubine!"

"Of course she is and has been for 20 years!" Screamed the guy.

And then my parents came running. I thought I was crying when I felt something warm run down my eye, I wanted to wipe it away, but it hurt. And when I looked at my hand, it was full of blood. My mother screamed in panic and pressed a handkerchief under my eye and my father yelled at the guy: "See what you did to your brother! How many times do I have to tell you he doesn't know anything?"

Well, when I heard the word brother, I really cried. I looked at my mother in horror and she said, "I'm sorry Yibo. We have wanted to tell you for a long time. But the timing was always bad. Your father has another wife, his main wife. I am only his concubine."

I felt so bad I threw up. Then I had blood and vomit on my hand. My head was spinning and I wondered, what have I done to deserve all this? That's when I slowly began to realize that my childhood sucked. Everyone lied to me, everyone knew that my mother was only a concubine. Except me!

Perfect family? My ass! My father's main wife allowed him to spend time with my mother and me every two weeks. She agreed to a concubine.

When I learned the whole story, I hated my father. I kept telling my mother to leave him, she was too good to be just a concubine. But she just kept saying, "I really love your father very much and I chose this life voluntarily. Besides, without your father I have nothing left. We would end up on the street, I don't get a job, I don't even have a high school diploma. I ran away from home at the age of 17 and secretly married your father abroad, where many marriages are allowed".

I was stunned! Exactly one year later my father told me that he was planning to marry another woman. Apparently his main wife already knows and agrees and my mother also gave her OK. Nobody cared what I thought about it.

A few weeks later, my father married this 23 year old woman, my mother, my father's main wife, my half-brother and I, had to attend the wedding! This was the first time I was abroad. My half-brother and I did not get along with each other. I was always quiet and shy, he was hot-tempered and loud. He pushed and kicked me all the time, sometimes he hit me.

Strange that it was my father's main wife, of all people, who defended me. She yelled at my half-brother and told him to leave me alone. Then she took me aside and said: "I know we don't know each other and I am probably not in a position to give you advice, even though I am your stepmother. But let me give you the advice, to finally start to defend yourself and not to let you put up with everything. You should also learn that you will not like everything in life and that you cannot understand everything. But you should still respect the decisions of others. I have seen how much you hate your father, especially now that he has a third wife, but you have no right to do that! It is his life and you must respect it whether you like it or not."

I was really shocked. Why did everyone keep picking on me? What have I done to people to make them think they can be so mean to me?

From then on, I withdrew more and more. My friends didn't want to have anything more to do with me when they found out about my father and his three wives. Then my father's new wife became pregnant and he often had to stay with her because she was feeling bad all the time. I don't think I saw him for almost a year. Just like my mother, but she held on to her love for him and claimed that it would be different again.

And it did not change. My father came back after about a year, stayed one night and disappeared again. And it went on like this until I was almost 18 years old.

My mother had changed a lot during that time. Because of the new wife there was less housekeeping money, she did not see her great beloved husband anymore and if, then only for one night, he did not even call, nothing. And at some point she was so exhausted with her nerves that she couldn't take it anymore.

When I graduated from school, I came home happy, showed her my good diploma and she was happy. She was so weak by then that she didn't even get up from the sofa. She suffered from severe depression and because my father sent so little money, she could not go to the doctor or take medication.

The next morning I got up, made breakfast for my mother and wanted to bring it to her. When I came into the living room, she was lying there half hanging from the sofa. Her eyes were wide open and there was a brownish liquid at her mouth. I called the emergency doctor, but he could only determine that she was dead.

She committed suicide. She wrote a farewell letter in which she wrote: "My dear boy, I am sorry that I do not have the strength to hold out any longer. Unfortunately I can only say goodbye to you with this letter. I am sorry that you have to find me like this. Please do not be angry with your father. It was my decision to leave. It's not his fault. I love you, Mom."

I was so incredibly angry at my mother. How could she still love that idiot after what he did to her? In the end, I think she couldn't take it when she found out that the third woman was expecting another child.

Then when my father came to me at home, the police called him because he was the husband, I hit him. I blamed him for driving my mother to her death. And he just sat there and cried.

At the funeral ceremony he played the mourning husband. He even collapsed and got pity from everyone. He even dared to say to me, "I loved your mother very much."

And then I had to move in with him and his main wife. She still had no problem with her husband spending most of the time with his other wife and his two small children. She always said to me with a smile: "Small children need attention. And with two small children, his wife could really need his help."

When I was finally 18 years old, I packed my belongings and moved out secretly overnight. I stayed with my best friend and his family. I worked in the business of my best friend's father and earned the money for my studies.

The next chapter continues...