anger in the family

since i was very young, corporal punishment was the onlykind of punishment. i used to remember running and hiding from my mother because when she got home she would always be in a bad mood. the house might be a mess and the dishes were done and reused. and if i didnt have them clean by the time she got home i had hell to pay. it was not only the beatings that bothered me, it was the yelling. she would yell at us for every thing. then, the beatings came. my mother could beat me any time and anyplace for antything. she once beat me with the heels of her stilettos because i ate a yogurt that was reserved for snack time.
my mother was bad enough, but my father was worse. the abuse i've endured from him was unparalleled to mothers. my fathers anger took place only when i was rude. the beatings were brutally violent. if i ran away or threatened to call the police, he would go insane. his episodes exploded, they didnt escalate like mother's. my father once beat the living crap out of me because i asked him why he put my egg salad in the microwave. when i told my mother, she told me it was my fault. i had provolked him because i am the wicked one. i dont under stand why i am the wicked one.
in ninth grade, my mother ordered me to clean up my room, when i told her no, for good reason (it would have taken me hours to do), she beat me with a broom. it broke. i finally called the police. that day happened to be my aunt's birthday, so when the police came and got her, they made me sit at my aunts house. my aunt screamed at me, cursing me for being a wicked child. she and some of the other aunts went to bail her out. they got back and she went to her room. all this time i was sitting at the kitchen table. my aunt's nanny was sitting there with the children as this happened. i asked for a glass of juice and they gave me evil stares. so i left. not remembering to pick up my shoes, i grabbed my jacket and went back to my house. then my uncle came home and things really picked up. my aunt told him what happened and he flipped out. he came over to my house the moment he heard the news and he ordered me to go back to his house and take out my stuff. as i went to grab my shoes, he picked them up and threw them out into the garden and told me "i dont want you or your shit in my house." i picked up my stuff and went back to my house. i threw the shoes down and shut the door. by now i had streams of tears rolling down my face, i grabbed my jacket and curled into a ball on the couch and covered my face with my blanket. then, as if things couldnt get any worse, all my aunts and uncles arrived at the party. after being informed of what happened, they all came to my house and started to scream at me and yell auful things to me. by this time i had cried so much that i was dehydrated and i could not produce any tears. after about fifteen minutes of solid yelling, they all stormed out. leaving me there ont he couch in the fetal position. amidst a panic attack. my mother came in though the front door and she gave me an evil stare. from that moment on i knew that it was the beginning of the end. she hasn's spoken to me much since.