Well.. I don't even know where to begin.

!Psychological story!

I don't speak English very well, so forgive me in advance if this is unclear. I'm a 14-year-old teenager who grew up with only my mother and two brothers. I'm the youngest child in the family. I thought I'd tell you a little about my father for now. My whole life, until I was 13, I was told that my father worked in America. For 10 years, imagine that. I was a little kid and believed it. Of course, I'm still a kid, but I don't believe that kind of crap anymore. About four times a week, my father video-called my mother. I think he started calling when I was 7 or 8? Because I grew up without him, I really wanted to meet him, so much so that I practically begged my mother. At the time, I lived in Ukraine, but I was born in Greece; my father is from there.

I don't really remember exactly what our first meeting was like. We used to fly to Greece every summer to visit my godmother. So, when I was 9, I was told we would fly to Greece again and I would meet my father. I was both happy and nervous. He spoiled me all the time, buying me gifts, as if he were trying to make amends. Then, I don't remember exactly, we sort of went back. Since my birthday was in September, my mother decided to give me a gift and told me that my father would come to Ukraine for a day for my birthday. And so the day arrived, my mother set the table, and we were sitting at the table (the author, my mother, and two brothers). Then my father arrived. We ate. My oldest brother, let's call him Ruslan, he was 26 at the time. He went out onto the balcony to smoke, and my second oldest brother, let's call him David, he was 16 at the time. He went into his room to play on the computer, and a little later I went to sit with him because my mother wanted to talk to my father. I heard something like screaming, so I went downstairs. I saw my father sitting at the table alone with a glass of vodka. I asked what was wrong, he said nothing, but I felt uneasy, so I went into my mother's room... She was sitting on the bed and crying. I ran up to her, hugged her, and started asking what was wrong. She was picking up some nail polish tubes and bottles from the floor. Now I'll switch to the dialogue.

Author: Mom, what happened? Why are you crying?!

Mother: Everything's fine, I just had a little argument with your dad.

Author: Did he hit you? Mom, does something hurt? Don't pick up the bottle, I'll pick it up. Lie down on the bed, please, calm down, I'll get you some water.

Mother: Everything's fine, honey, he's just drunk. He didn't hurt me, he just knocked over a few things.

After that, I quickly got her some water. I was so upset with my father that I didn't even want to talk to him. I wanted to go up to David and tell him what happened, since Ruslan was still on the balcony. I started climbing the stairs, and then my father called me with a smile, as if nothing had happened. I ignored him and continued climbing. He got angry and started yelling at me, something like, "Come here right now! When your father speaks to you, you have to listen to him. I'll teach you some manners now, you bastard." I became terrified because he stood up and, perhaps, took off his belt. He started walking quickly toward me, and I immediately started running up to my brother's room out of fear. I almost cried. I ran to my brother and, terrified, started begging him to hide me and not let my father in. He looked at me in confusion and started asking what happened, but since my father was already getting up, I hid behind the nightstand. At that moment, my father came into the room and started asking, "Where's that bitch?! Come out right now!"My brother started asking my father what happened while he was pacing around the room. He found me, grabbed me by the hair, and started yelling at me... I still remember how I hysterically screamed at my brother, "David! Please help me, I'm scared, I'm afraid of him. David... David!" He just stood there. He didn't do anything, just stood there in bewilderment and shock, watching him hurt me.

I finally pushed away from my father but fell to the floor and hit my head. He wanted to start yelling at me again, but at that moment Ruslan came home, went upstairs, and burst into David's room, dragged my father back, and rushed to me. He hugged me, then let me go and started asking what happened. I sobbed and tried to explain, but I couldn't. Ruslan told me to go to my mother. I started to walk toward the exit, but my father grabbed me, "We're not done yet." Ruslan pushed him away and told me to go. I don't know what they talked about, but when my mother calmed me down, she led me to the exit where my father was standing with his bags. He said he was leaving, apologized, and wanted to hug me before leaving. My mother made me hug that jerk.

That's how my 10th birthday passed. After that day, I hated my birthday. To put it briefly, three years after the war in Ukraine started, we moved to Greece and started living with him (it was about a year later). I went to school there. He was constantly controlling, and I cried every night. After two years of this hell, one day I returned home and saw my mother crying. To make a long story short, in 2025, my father was sentenced to 10 years in prison for aiding in the transportation of illegal substances. This wasn't the first time; I grew up without a father because he was in prison for, I think, nine years. He was imprisoned when I was two or three years old.

I think I'll end this post here, as I can't write it any further right now; I'm writing it and crying. Even after almost four years, I can't forget that situation. I'm so grateful to Ruslan; I don't know what would have happened to me if he hadn't come. After all this, at night, if I think about my father again, I start crying. I think it's psychological trauma that can't be healed.

Thank you.