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I have broken these cruel chains that bound me to my past existence, and because of that, I know how to help you through it.
Contents
Full Story Of Abuse
How This Has Haunted My Life
Step By Step Replay
Recent Volumes
Volume I
Volume II
Volume III
Volume IV |
The Excitement Of Christmas Is Gone
I had been enduring abuse for a couple of years already, but I just didn't see it coming. I had made the fatal mistake of befriending a black person, and it just so happened it was a boy. It was someone from my church, and being who I was, I spent my babysitting money to buy his family a gift. I phoned him to tell him to come over, and a neighbor told my parents that I had a black boy over the house. Of course, they didn't mention that he only stayed a couple of minutes.
Everything seemed fine at first, and it was supper time, and me and my brothers were there as usual, when my one brother broke down in tears. I was shocked, as I always kind of took care of him, and asked him why he was so sad. He said, "I'm sorry, I had to tell." I looked at him shocked, and asked him, "What did you have to tell?", and he said in reply, "I had to tell them about the brown person., and they said you are in big trouble."
I assured him that everything would be fine, when in fact, it was anything but that. While I was up in my room in the unfinished attick, my step-dad and mother came up, with a two by four in the step-dad's right hand. He said, "You've really had it now, you nigger lover!" I was starting to hyperventilate as that board sure looked big back then. He said to me, "Roll over on your stomache, and bury your face in the pillow, and don't scream or I'll hit you harder."
Well, I was watching through the corner of my eye, and I could see he was planning on bringing that board down hard, so I lifted my foot. It was almost like a reflex, and then he said, "If you lift your foot up one more time, I will break it. He brought the board back again, and the reflex happened again. So he slammed it down hard on my foot, and replied, "I told you not to do that!" I didn't do that no more!
It never seemed like it was going to stop. The hitting was just going on and on and on, and to be honest with you, it felt like an eternity. I don't know how long it actually was though. Then finally it ended and my mom came screaming at me, and said, "You little bitch nigger lover, if my back didn't hurt so much, I would have done it to you myself!" They snatched out the lightbulb, shut the door, and locked it.
I thought it was over till they came to retrieve me for a little household duty of scrubbing the walls with a toothbrush. Boy, did it hurt to stand on my foot, and while I was scrubbing my step-dad grabbed the belt. He said, "You ARE going to admit you are a nigger lover!" I said, "I'm not." I got hit with the belt buckle. This went on for another two hours, and I finally cried and said, "Okay, I'm a nigger lover."
He then beat me one, last final time for being a liar. I was then sent to my room, and locked back in. Christmas day came, and I was allowed to not be in my room for the day, which really seemed to be the place I wanted to be anyway. A week later, I was bringing my brother to the movie, if I didn't say nothing to my step-dad, only he was there when I got there, and guess what? I had a little black girl who was two years old with me. I got drug out of the theatre by my hair.
Well, I knew what was going to happen, and I was scared no doubt, so I started running. Running so fast, hardly could breath, and bam! I'm hit by a car...but I just rolled to the side, and got up to run with people asking me, "Are you all right?" I said, "Fine," as I was running, "I just have to get out of here.
I went back to the black people house so they could get their child, and they took a risk of helping me. No help from protective services, who thought it was mild, until the police came saying I was a runnaway. I started crying and hyperventilating so hard to go home to that, the cop said he knew something was wrong. So then, protective services did come. I was brought to the emergency room, and brought to foster care.
I'll never forget how all I could think about was the couch I was sitting on when I got there. It was the one I seen and felt with my mind, and it was exactly as I thought. You see, while I was locked up in my room, I knew I would be on this new couch in purple pants, which I was wearing the day I was saved. |