The martyr - haunting stories

Dang,

I was brought back the memory
of my childhood
where I thought
my youngest brother of the family
pushed me down the stairs.

I stood upstairs the winding stairs at my home and I always remembered it was my youngest brother who pushed me making me tumble all the way down. These stairs, I need to describe them but how do I?

Metal "skeleton" with wooden steps, each step seperated from eachother. There were metal thingys that always make some noise, it's how the stairs were made.

Coming to the point, I always remembered it was my youngest brother pushing me. All the way down I stood up, I was a child and you have no idea how haunted I've always been. My mom must have heard the noise, she came into the hall and now I think she didn't care at all because she just put me down in the bench. Say wtf, now I believe they always tried to kill me.

So, now I was remembered to that day, and different was that now I thought one of my other brothers did it.

And then.. I thought someone just like my brother, looking like one of them must have appeared making me think it was one of my brothers.

So now I think it wasn't someone I lived with for all these years, but something caming into the world appearing to be someone, in particulary appearing as somone of my family.

Or you fell.......
Or it didn't happen like you thought. .?

Not to be a jerk but time has a way of distorting things......still not sure how it makes you a martyr....we all have things that happen to us....

My brother pushed me off a 12 foot retaining wall into cactus....he was mad because I shot him w a bb gun...i was mad because he hit me in the foot w a lawn dart....literally.....we were boys....rough and tumble but that's it....we weren't martyrs we were just buttholes to each other

a reply to: ManBehindTheMask

I live in a dreamworld since childhood.

What I actually meant with martyr was what I now believe came to earth that day to push me down the stairs. Either way, I could've been given a lot more respect from my family. I try to hold on to the fact they were all haunted and had no idea what they were doing. Nobody sees what I say. For years we never talked and lived in fear while the man my mother married raped her and when she resisted we as her children took the beating, he abused us 4 children to make my mother give in to his desires, he left her no choice.

Skinwalker ranch is nothing compared to the secluded place we grew up. To us, the nightmare that it was.

Hell is still going on for many people.

a reply to: Untun

You have a story to tell and and an unusual way of telling it....I'm listening.

I had to learn a few things:

A martyr is not a executioner.

The executioner tortures.

To torture is partially composed of the word martyr in my language. The confusion!

The circle of logic capturing a circle of logic in minds born to be freed.