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Showing posts with the label child abuse

Living in Squalor!

  I head downstairs, the overwhelming scent of mold permeates throughout the room. Garbage and wet clothes are scattered everywhere and makeshift hammocks adorn the ceiling. A dirty rabbit hutch reeks of urine and feces, and the rotting smell of dead mice or some other mysterious animal buried beneath the filthy ruble burns my nose. As the intense aroma penetrates my eyes, they begin to water incessantly, I don’t think I can handle this. With a trash bag in one hand and plugging my nose with the other, I proceed down into the dingy basement. I  begin wading through the plethora of items in my path, deciding what to keep and what to throw out, I’m disgusted at what I see, my mother would have never let it get like this.  I stand, staring at a massive pile of clothes laying on the damp floor by the washing machine. It feels like just yesterday my mother died and suddenly life went from living in splendor to living in squalor. For me, living in “splendor” didn’t mean living in some extrav
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Never Alone!

Click, I shut the door behind me, I lean my back up against it and slowly inch down to the floor, pulling my knees up to my chest. I rest my head down on my knees and draw in a deep breath, please leave me alone, just let me have a moment to myself, a moment of solace alone in this bathroom. I can feel the cold tiles beneath me, the icy chill sends shivers up my spine, my teeth chatter and I rub my arms, it’s always cold in our house. I pull myself up off the floor and turn on the shower. I disrobe and stare at myself in the mirror, I’m disgusted at what I see, an instant desire for self-mutilation takes over me, to cut and remove every part of me that he is attracted to. I turn my ahead away, I can’t look anymore, the more I look at myself the more I hate what I see. I try and lock the door, I drop my hand and bow my head, the lock doesn’t work. I pray that I can have 30 minutes of undisturbed silence, time to collect my thoughts, and give my body a chance to recuperate from the const
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Behind Bars!

  Barricaded Prisoner After my attempted flight from the treacherous dungeon, I prepare for the berating that awaits for me at home. With extreme trepidation, I entered the vehicle, closing the door behind me. My heart sank as a sense of failure washed over me. I can only imagine what kind of security measures will be implemented, to ensure no incident like this ever happens again. It’s a dreadful thought that I may be trapped forever.  Staring in the rear view mirror, I can see the betrayal on my fathers face. In his mind, he was the victim of my defamation. Certainly, the veracity of my story was in question, given my history of delinquency and defiance. I think the police believed my story was a mere baseless accusation in an attempt to gain attention, as this wasn’t their first encounter with me. My father locked eyes with mine, and I watched his lip curve slightly upward in a smiling fashion. My face turned red with fury as he smirked with pleasure at the humuliation of his own da
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The Old Wooden Stairs

 I can’t seem to take my eyes off of the old wooden staircase in front of me. I scan across it, examining every inch. From afar the solid wood appears to be flawless but the closer you get the more imperfections you can see. Small nicks and tiny pieces of splintered wood peak out of the boards. As I focus on the rickety old railing and the creaky stairs, my mind starts to disconnect from my body, drifting off into a fantasy land. I can feel myself slipping in and out of consciousness, bouncing between fantasy and reality. Every time I feel my nose burn from the stench of alcohol and cigarettes that billow out of his mouth, or the feeling of his sweat dripping down my cheeks, or the weight of his body pressing against me, my mind withdraws from the convalescent fantasy, reentering the crippling reality that I am faced with. I desperately try and retreat from the disabling position that my mind is now stuck in. Paralyzed by the overwhelming agony I am experiencing, I close my eyes and wa
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Trapped!

    I am sitting in the living room. I can see a small cockroach crawling across the end table. I watch its antennae move back and forth, examining every object and surface it’s comes in contact with. I see them all over the place. I have learned to sleep with the covers over my head to prevent a cockroach fro m crawling inside of my ear. Sometimes, if there is a cluster of them, you can hear them scurrying around in the darkness. There are so many of them, and they are everywhere. I see them mostly in the kitchen and the living room. Maybe it’s because they are the most frequented areas of the house. A lot of times, whe n you are cooking, you have to carefully examine your food before eating it, there might be a dead cockroach hiding in your rice or mashed potatoes. We are ate a lot of rice, potatoes, spaghetti, ramen noodles, and powdered milk. My dad’s only source of income was from disability, and there were 6 kids still living at home. Of course, his money was well spent on beer a
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Taken!

  It’s mid afternoon, on this  cool, crisp fall day. I can smell the dew on the leaves and fresh cut grass as everyone scrambles to get a final mow in before fall rapidly turns into winter. I am in awe as I look down a tunnel of trees and watch as hues of red and orange dance in the wind. My cheeks are tinted slightly pink as the wind brushes across my face. The serene landscape surrounding me is pulling me into its captivating scene. My mind is at peace. I have completely forgotten where I am. I have forgotten who I am. I want to stay lost in this moment forever. I open my eyes and I no longer see the blue skies and enthralling mountainous terrain. I only see darkness. I have snapped back to reality and I must face the circumstances presented before me head on. He is going to take me away and to where I do not know.  I am curled up in a corner on the floor of our one bedroom apartment. Not long after my dads first suicide attempt, we were forced to relocate due to our abhorrent living
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My Earliest Memory

  My earliest memory from childhood seems to be from about the age of 9 years old. I have vague memories from an earlier time. Snippets of things lIke being a cheerleader in pop warner football or the car that my parents used to drive. I don’t remember the color or any details about it, just that it was a station wagon. Clearly, I have no significant memories from an earlier age.   When I was 8ish my mother was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer. I can remember her having treatments and losing her hair. She wore a wig but hated the way it felt so she preferred to wear a bandana. I can almost picture her petite build and some of her facial features. Although, without a picture I am certain the ability to visualize her would have faded long ago. I can’t remember her voice or her demeanor. I imagine a kind, caring mother. Nothing has indicated otherwise and I hope that never changes. It’s soothing to think that I inherited some good from at least one of my parents. I’m not sure
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