The making of me: beginnings

So I've decided to tell about myself i help me beat down the emotional cobwebs.

I'll start at the start. Well as far toward the beginning that I know of or remember. I have a psychological block that forbades me to remember much before like 9th grade.
I was born in Virginia Beach, the second child to a self esteem deficient redneck gal and a overly aggressive mental case in the navy.
I don't recall much of anything about my childhood aside from on overwhelming feeling that I wasn't really "wanted" by my father and that I was overly "needed" by my mother.
Flash forward a dormant blackened battlefield of memories that my mother recalls as the end of an abusive marriage to a psychotic chauvinist. I'm ten years old, swollenly pudgy already with a deeply imbedded sense of hopelessness. I remember laying in my bed during a summer day and thinking "I wish I could just not be alive". At this point id become accustomed to watching my brother open birthday and christmas gifts mailed to him by our father. Without anything or something obviously thrown in last minute to even make notice of my existence.
And although she had no need to, my mother would tirade around bringing notice to my pain to fuel hatred toward him. I'd grown into a child with early knowledge of what an alcoholic is and I'd hated him from birth. But I still craved, as children do, any ounce of approval.
Throughout my life I'd adored my mother. But the summer after i turned 13, a new emotion developed toward her that I've never been able to put my finger on.
She was working for a county police department as a dispatcher. My brother was in his room, deftly pounding some video game's controller, lost blissfully in some fantasy world.
Now when I was 8 years old my mother picked up an old flame to serve as a stand in father. They had been together but had not yet married. He was the only man I'd ever viewed as a father.
On the day I'm speaking of, I was laying on a floor pallet in the living room floor watching tv. He came in and joined me. I'd been close to him for awhile so i didn't feel alarmed until he faced me and made a comment on the cluster of freckles and moles constructing a birthmark on my upper chest. Saying "I bet you have them everywhere.." Long story short, he put his tongue in my mouth and I spent the rest of my night brushing my teeth with comet. Literally.
I recalled a discussion with my mother in the past where I should tell her if anything happened that made me feel scared.
It took a week to get up the courage to talk to her. She did what good mothers do. She sent him packing.
A few times in the next week I'd hear her speaking on the phone quietly. Then unexpectedly she packed me and my brother up and shipped us to Texas with the bio dad for the summer.
That never went well for her and I'd soon called her begging to come home.

You could imagine my surprise when I returned home to find that he was back and i wasn't allowed to talk about it. My mother told me that i had imagined it all. I'd lost faith in her. I knew that I was on my own from then on.

I was the only protector I had.
And that was just the way it was.