As I was sitting in the car crying while making that call, everything played back in my head. The bright San Francisco lights hitting my face, the blood rushing to my face as I got mad, the tears rolling down my cheeks as he yelled at me. What upset me the most was the fact that I tolerated that for so long… 

Ever since I was younger I had a great relationship with my dad. We had your typical father-daughter relationship. As the saying goes, “Once a girl hits puberty, her father starts to change.” I don't know if it has to do with her changing and maturing, but it happens. Then the physical and verbal abuse started. 

      When did I escape that? Sometime in May. It was my father, his girlfriend and I. We went to San Francisco to eat some hot dogs and chill. When coming back from buying them we saw my dad giving his number to some random guy–he sold phones and other products. I told him, “You shouldn't be giving your phone number to random strangers, you don't know what they can get you involved with. They might give your number to people associated with bad stuff.” All he could say was, “I am a grown man. I can take care of myself, worry about yourself”. A daughter's love for her father is strong, that is a known fact. I kept telling him and reminding him, all he wanted to do was argue, as always. We were having a good day, I don't get why this all happened. 

He got so mad to the point where he told me, “Get the f***k out of my car!” Keep in mind, we were in the middle of San Francisco. I told him to let me out, obviously he didn't. What did not process in my head was that my mom was out of town, nowhere near me. Once we got home I had his girlfriend take me to my moms house where my brother was waiting for me. This was the start of the split between my father and I. 

       I stayed with my mom for about half a year before making the CPS call. We were in her car when I finally got the courage to call them. I called them in that warm, old car, with my mom rubbing my back in a pattern so I could pull myself together. I don't remember how the number got dialed on my phone or hearing the ring, all I remember was the CPS lady asking for details and answering them while crying. The warm salty tears rolled down my face as I told the lady that I didn't want to be with him anymore. I felt like in a way I betrayed my father, I betrayed the person who always had my back, the person who broke his back so I wouldn't have to live in a trailer behind a building anymore. Yet he was the same person who made me feel worthless, the reason why I started self harming, the person who made me feel like I couldn't do anything right. All I could think about were the good memories. There were days where everything he said would play over and over in my head. “You're a pig, you can't be clean, have you gained weight?” All these words have been in my head since I was in 5th grade. These same words and actions were said to my mom. My mom knew exactly what I was going through because she went through the same exact thing, with the same exact person. She was able to connect with me and help me through it all. She would always hear him talk badly about her and at some point heard him saying, “Don't come crying to me when you get cancer you st**id b**ch!” Making that CPS call let it all out,the relief,the anger. It helped me save my mom and save myself, I felt a sense of relief, I was free. Or so I thought. I would soon find myself getting multiple text messages saying I'm a terrible person, that I should feel guilty, that I would regret everything in the end. I found myself taking screenshots and printing everything out for evidence in court. 

Once we went to court, my dad tried to stall as much as he could, saying he needed more time for evidence calling my mom a liar. He even went on saying, “I'm recording because look at these evil people trying to take my daughter from me.” Soon after when he stopped recording he told my mom and step dad, “Your baby is not going to make it past 6 months.” When I heard that, I was extremely mad. I felt all the blood rushing to my face as I told my mom how I hate him. Soon after I texted him saying it was not right at all to say that and that God will forgive him for his sins. 

He then told me, “f**k god, f**k your family and f**k you!” 

       I was upset, I felt betrayed and hurt, he has said similar things but he never really directed it to me. I was more upset when he told me,“You are not part of my family anymore and I will have the whole family block you.” To me family was everything, my grandmother in Mexico was my everything. Although I have never met her in person, I loved her so much. I got all my evidence of my dad verbally abusing me and my family. We gave it to the judge and she then declared that i am able to get a restraining order against my father, that gave my mom full custody of me, the funny thing was that he went on to say, “She got a DUI while my daughter was in the car!!” Obviously it didn't work, that incident was about 10 years ago. Although I didn't cry then I knew I was going to later on. Anyone in that situation would cry, especially a daughter for her father.

       Even though he put me through all that, I still end up missing him. He is my father and I do regret taking him to court at times. At the end of the day I am a lot happier and free of all the abuse. The San Francisco incident made me realize a lot. It made me realize all the abuse I would endure to "help him", because in the bottom of my heart-that inner child inside of me thought I could really change him. I know I will be the one to stop the cycle because I would never want to put anyone through what I felt. A child shouldn't have to beg for her fathers love, she should be automatically given it. Sadly my story won't have that happy father daughter ending, but at the end of the day I have my family to support me, my mom is my father too.