Longing for a Father figure

I am looking for a happy family just as anyone is. It is too unfortunate to have nothing but yourself, at least in your own perspective. For a very long time, I ask God: "Bring me a good Father, a caring Father, a loving, sweet, supportive Father. Father, I just need a father for advice, a listening board of my problems and issues". I ask and ask and ask and ask. And ask again. Until I gave up. 

So I was raised in a poor family of a third world country. You must imagine the horror and misery I went through.There are times when food never came, only a cup of rice for breakfast. Lucky enough to enjoy a good meal for lunch or dinner. Money was always an issue. You go to school with nothing but your bag and pencil. You walk several meters to and fro, at least with your slippers on. You see your brother as hungry as you are, your sister crying in the corner. And then you ask yourself: "How bad my parents are to allow their sick family in this dire situation?". I hate my mother for marrying a poor, ignorant father. I hate her for not doing anything to uplift us.

The memories with my father has never been good. All too often a dark blurry past, one would dare to forget. The abuses and emotional scars-- as a result thereof-- is still alive. How can a Father not support his own? How can he tolerate seeing a dying family without anything but dirt? 

I have heard my father emotionally strip us with confidence. His words has never been encouraging, in fact, discouraging; never been kind but brutal; never love, only bitterness; never humane, animalistic; never supportive, hurtful. I remember the times he deprives us of hope by not sending us to school. He deprives us of good life by not working as hard to support his family. 

The stick has been brutally damage as it comes into contact with my body. The physical pain is unimaginable, I must have fainted. Horror filled my innocent young mind. What have I done? Next day, a belt with its metal so hard hits me in my lower leg. I was beyond hurting, crying for God to save me at this very moment. "God is real, save me. God is real save me". Nothing worked.

Living in this kind for a day is torture. Let alone for years. When you have nowhere to run. When God, your only hope, turns His back at you. When the one you love has turned into a monster, an evil of a kind, full of bitterness and sick of jealousy. How will I ever forget my past years?

"Father, I need a father!"
Location: South East Asia

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