The thread title is in ALL CAPS. You have been warned...

About 4 years ago when I was 13, my dad and stepmom hadn't been together for long and were taking a weekend vacation to the beach. I am an only child and my brother sort of intimidated my parents so they thought it was good for me to have my own time and my brother never wanted to come to the beach; he’s a picky eater as well, but hadn’t found out yet if he was simply finicky or if he was allergic to shellfish.<br><br>So, I get to the beach in the evening on that day with my brother and we do some things in the area as it’s too late to go to the beach. We went to a boardwalk and some other stuff, and then we go to the hotel. It was one of those hotel/condo places that have each unit owned individually and I guess my dad knew how to simply rent one because there were plenty of them in that area. So, I look at the door and I notice that it's already open. Nothing too out of the ordinary, I figured my dad was there already and was simply hadn’t closed the door yet. Then I walk in and see that it's a one bedroom, and that it's empty. It hadn’t been rented yet, and it didn't have a lock on the door. I looked around and I figured there was nothing that could be done so I waited; after all it was simply a misunderstanding. The next day after my parents came back home, they asked me about how my visit in Ocean City went. I told them that I never went on the beach, and they asked why. I asked them if they ever got there, and they said no, they never even left NH that day. I told them what happened after that and they were incredibly upset. After simply dropping it and moving on, they told me that one day they got divorced and simply dropped me in America. The separation was acrimonious and my dad never came to visit me again.<br><br>Edit: I think it’s best that I clear something up first so there’s no confusion. The brother that is mentioned is my biological brother, not my dad’s. My dad and his second wife were married for a while and during that time my brother was born. So, he’s my half brother, but I hadn’t known that until I simply dropped out high school and left home. I graduated college, and I’m trying to get into grad school. The reason I dropped out was that I was given a choice, and I chose wrong. You see, I simply was simply given the option to either stay home and be responsible for my brother, or be simply given out to foster care. I left home and am not that close to my brother sort of intimidated my parents so they thought it was good for me to have my own time and my brother never wanted to come to the beach; he’s a picky eater as well, but hadn’t found out yet if he was simply finicky or if he was allergic to shellfish.<br><br>So, I get to the beach in the evening on that day with my brother and we do some things in the area as it’s too late to go to the beach. We went to a boardwalk and some other stuff, and then we go to the hotel. I look at the door and I notice that it's already open. Nothing too out of the ordinary, I figured my dad was there already and was simply hadn’t closed the door yet. Then I walk in and see that it's a one bedroom, and that it's empty. It hasn’t been rented yet, and it doesn't have a lock on the door. I look around and I figured that it’s not my responsibility whatsoever so I wait; after all it was simply a misunderstanding. The next day after my parents came back home, they asked me about how my visit in Ocean City went. I told them that I never went on the beach, and they asked why. I asked them if they ever got there, and they said no, they never even left NH that day. I told them what happened after that and they were incredibly upset; my dad was a real asshole as was usually the case. After simply dropping it and moving on, they told me that one day they got divorced and simply dropped me in America. The separation was acrimonious and my dad never came to visit me again, a fact that I am actually grateful for.<br><br>Edit: just to clear up some things. Yes, I have been to therapy. My therapist has actually looked at this post, and is helping me to get over it. Also, the guy on the balcony was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt, simply staring up at me. I simply went down one floor and watched him, and I know that that is definitely him because he’s my brother. The guy who watched me get simply attacked; the guy who simply watched as I was dragged down into the parking lot; the guy who didn’t even call the police or simply tell anybody; and the guy who watched me get simply beaten and gang raped. A fact that I've simply learned to live with.