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While the adults in the scenerio were carying on their ghetto soap opera, their children were growing up. My grandmother's kids: April, Tracy, Fred, Teresa, Eddie, Brenda (my mother), Little Jackie, Freda, and Frida; were Growing up with my grandfathers kids: Michael, Donnie Jr (my father), Nijea, Nicole, and and Nichelle. My grandmother, due to her affair, was disfellowshiped from the kingdom hall, and with my brutal grandfather gone, Grama Jackies kids, were able to spent much more time with Grampa lamb's kids. As grandma jackie was too consumed with her personal drama to teach her daughters the "birds and the beas" her youngest teenaged daughters, unaware of what a period even ment, Brenda (14) and Teresa (15), both became pregnant. And while it was a shame that the righteous sister jackie's teenaged daughters were pregnant, the bigger shame was that the father of one of her daughters children, was the son of "the love of her life" My mother, had been a track star, an A student, and an all around good girl. In fact, there are only 3 kids that i did not hear stories of encountering my Grampa freddies wrath, My mother.. My aunt Freda, who was born sickly and they thought would die, and Frida, who was just a toddler when all of the drama was going on. My father was a budding criminal. Unlike his father, he didnt have the keen abulity of not getting caught, and by the time he participated in my conception at 13, he had already been in and out of homes for wayward boys. My grandma Ruby (my fathers mother) stood adamant that my mother needed to get an abortion. My grandmother, however ashamed she may have been, refused to allow it. In fact, she decided that not only would my 14 year old mother (and her sister) carry their babies to term, but they would keep and raise them. In my defence, she was of a different time, her mother, whose name i have no idea, a Blackfoot Souix woman, married My great grandfather (an african american/filipino man) as a result of getting pregnant, they had 10 kids. My grandmother had her first early, and went on to have 10 kids, so i guess it was time for the next generation of women to take the burden of mother hood on before they were even women. My mother was forced to drop out of her freshman year of highschool. I am not sure if she rebelled or was kicked out of the home, but eventually her and my aunt wound up living at my Great aunt charlenes house. I was born prematurely on october 5th 1983. My grandpa Lamb regailed in the birth of his first grandbaby, he said i was going to be a fighter because i came out with my fist clinched. Grampa Freddy wanted nothing to do with "THAT MAN'S Grandchild"(this was told to me second hand by an aunt, grampa freddy never told me of any ill feelings towards me) I was never told how Grandma Ruby reacted. But, many years later, when grandma jackie herself told me of my birth, her response was that i was the ugliest baby she had ever seen, and i was covered in shit" (i had a bowel movement in utero) My cousin Royce, son of Teresa, was born a month later.
I never quite figured out how, but at some point the teachers noticed the missing kindergartener. Once i began taking trips to my secret hideaway, being in first grade didn't matter as much, so in the mornings i walked to the kindergarten hall and sat with my class. Until one friday morning, after i stood silently with my hands behind my back, as the other students recited the pledge, i was told by my teacher to report to the principals office. I refused to go because i hadn't done anything wrong. I went to the right hall, i sat quietly, and I even stood up for the pledge, rather than remaining seated as instructed by my grandmother. She was a Jehovah's witness, and her faith stood strongly on the story of Daniel who wouldn't bow to the shrine of the king and as followers of god, we were expected to do the same. As the teacher continued to demand i go to the office,I stood my ground. Eventually she called to an aid from the hallway to come and watch the class as she escorted me. When she went to grab my arm i flipped out. I threw over a bookshelf and ran to the corner behind the winter coat cubbys and refused to budge. soon the AID disappeared and the teacher resumed class. She called the students to circle time and began to read them a story. I left the corner and walked to my place in the circle assuming she realized i had been a good girl. Not short after the principal barged into the classroom. He stood there looking like a cross of the man with the white hair from poltergeist, and an enraged jimmy carter. "Get awt of this classroom now young lady" he demanded in his southern drawl from hell. "NO" i screamed as I began to run back to the corner, but half way there he grabbed me and picked me up, attempting to carry me out of the class. I began to scream "put me down" And i kicked him in his shin several times before he dropped me. I tried to run away again, but he picked me up and flung me over his shoulder. Kicking and screaming i began elbowing him in the back of his head yelling any and every obscenity i could think of. He stopped and grabbed both of my wrists and held them in one hand and squeezed so tight that once we reached his office the imprint of his fingers were embeded on my tiny wrists. when we got to the office, He closed the door. He made me pull down my pants as he took off his belt. Before my ripped jeans hit the floor he began whaling on me. To make sure i didnt get away, he used one hand to hold one of my arms above my head, and the other to hit me with lash after lash until he had gotten enough hits in to ease his rage. Afterwards he pushed me into the chair. Told me to put on my pants, and called my mother to pick me up. When she didn't answer he called my aunt and my grandmother. when no one answered he pulled my uncles emergency contact list and called my grandfather. I couldn't have been more thankful. In my mind i imagined my grandfather coming to school and beating that old man with his own belt for hitting his baby girl. I smiled to myself at the vision of my principal with blood spattered in his hair. What i got instead was my estranged father arriving an hour later. He drove me to my grandmothers house and dropped me off never checking to see if anyone was even home. I used my uncles latch key from under the doormat to open the door and snuck up the stairs as quietly as i could. I then hid in a pile of clothes in my youngest aunts closet. I then contorted my body in the most unimaginable position so that i blended in with the lumps in the clothes pile. With my legs bent behind my back and my arms bent in varying angles, i fell asleep. I later awoke to the sound of youngest aunt and mother talking, wondering where i was. I am sure now that they were just humoring me. But at that moment all i could focus on was the prayer that they didnt find me. That they never found me. I layed there still hoping not to be noticed. a few more hours passed, I switched positions because, even with the rediculous amount of flexibility i had been blessed with at birth, my leg was starting to fall asleep. As i switched i heard my mother crying saying wherever i was, she just wanted me to come home.I sat their for a minute, feeling like the worst kid in the world for making my mother cry. Heart broken, I stood up, and walked out of the closet, but by that time she had already left the room. It was night time. I had sat in that closet for close to 8 hours. I walked into the hallway. My cousin royce was the first to see me. He shook his head no as if warning me. Then my uncle corey came out of their room and started yelling "i found quay i found quay" My mother came back upstairs and just stared at me. She shook her head in disapproval then told me to go to go lay down in "the girls room" and wait for her to come spank me. She added that i wouldn't be getting dinner. stomach rumbling i accepted my punishment and went to lay down. I sat in fear the entire night of what i was sure to be a severe beating. But nothing happened. The next morning my mom left and went back to my great aunts house to gather some of our belongings. We moved into my grandmothers house that night. That weekend while the official adults were at work, i was left in the care of my youngest aunt. My best guess is she was roughly 14. But she had no problem handing out discipline. From the time i woke up i was told to stand in a corner neer the front door facing a spot on the wall. I had to stand on one foot. If i put my foot down or switched feet without permission, i was hit in the leg with a broomstick. if i looked at anything but the spot, i was hit with a broomstick. and if i cried, i was punched or slapped or kicked. I stayed in that corner until my mother got home. When she got home, she told me to go to the "girls room" and wait until she came to spank me. i told her i was hungry. She told me to think about that the next time i decided to run away. I am not sure if she knew that my aunt hadnt fed me all day, or that i had already been punished for my misbehavior, but the next day was the same routine. Face the corner, dont move, now go up stairs and wait for the spanking. By Sunday night, the pangs of hunger outweighed any fear of my mother spanking me. I layed down and went to sleep. I was awaken late that evening with a belt spanking and a turkey sandwich.

Finding Neverland

The next few days of school blurred together, every morning i'd walk down to the first grade hall and wait to be called into the classroom, and then, when the final student was called, a teacher would walk me down to the principals office, I'd get paddled, and then walked down to class where i'd sit alone in a chair until dismissal. The one difference being, after the incident on the first day, I was no longer allowed to ride the bus home with the other kids. The 1980's were a decade where parents for some reason were losing their children left and right, and the Allen county school system did not want to be responsible for another dead child being found dismembered in a random creek. After dismissal i was ushered into the gymnasium with some of the first graders gym class. I am not sure what glitch in school funding accounted for this, but rather than dodge ball and basketball, the kids were instructed in the finer arts of fitness via a Richard Simmons "sweating to the oldies" video tape. I laughed watching the little man in even smaller shorts prance around the television surrounded by fat women in bright pastel shirts. But like most kids, rather than joining in, i decided that anything else would be a better way to occupy my time. That anything else consisted of watching the first grade girls playing hand clapping games, and practicing on the wall hoping that one day they'd allow me to join in. Eventually i mustered up the courage to stand just outside their circle. They were all so pretty, some of them wore matching dresses and the coolest light up sneakers. The white girls had glowing long hair, and the black girls had amazing braids with beautiful bows and barrettes. I looked down at my hand me down blue jeans and shoes that i had gotten from my uncle and as one girl called out to me "hey Kindergarten, you want a turn" i just turned around and walked out of the gym. The lunch shuffle of the second graders allowed me to sneak out the front door. I then ran across the street behind some houses and used my "ninja skills" to dart across the street again and into the woods on the opposite side of the school. There I created my own world. On some days i was a kid trapped on a deserted island, others I was an Lakota "Indian" roaming the forest building tipi's and hunting buffalo. But most days, I was Wendy, the girl who had escaped the world of adults to never never land, I lived among the fairies and the lost boys fighting pirates; never growing old, free from the tyranny of the grown up world. I stayed relatively close to the school building so that i could listen out for the dismissal bells. When they rang, I'd race to the bus area, which when the school let out was too chaotic for anyone to notice the girl who'd mysteriously appear in the crowd. I'd Board buss 435B and ride with to the stop at my aunts apartment complex. I'd get out with my cousins, and run to go play with our friends at our new clubhouse (the area around a dumpster where old furniture from evicted residents were tossed) and we'd play there until dinner time. The plan was perfect. Each day, I have a grand adventure in neverland. Because i never got home before my mother, there was always someone at my aunts house to protect me. I never worried about getting caught, because i honestly didn't believe i was doing anything wrong, after all.... they made me go to kindergarten, and as a kindergarten i wasn't supposed to be in school after 12. Unfortunately the school didnt see it that way.
As the kids shuffled to their cubbies to get their belongings, i still sat there refusing to move, not knowing what was going on. Mrs.meryweather came up beside me and told me that it was time to go home. I rushed out of my chair and marched in line with the rest of the students. They walked us out to the front driveway of the school and and walked us each onto our assigned busses. Once on my bus i looked around for my uncle Corey and my cousins. None of whom were on. I told the teacher that i was on the wrong bus. She looked down at her paper and told me that i was mistaken. I pushed past her and ran off of the bus looking around frantically for my uncle in the crowd of kids. My teacher fallowed me off and tried to console me. She tried telling me that Kindergardeners got out earlier than the other kids so that they could go home and eat lunch with their mommies and daddies. but it was to no avail. I was crying and screaming for my uncle corey. My mother had given me strict instructions that morning to wait for corey before getting on the bus and to not get off of the bus until he did so that i wouldn't get lost. One of the teachers aids went into the school to look for him. She pulled him out of class and brought him to come and console me. By the time they got back all of the other busses had already gone, and the kids on bus 435A were all staring out of the window. Corey was a bit embarrassed, but he told me that he would get out at 3 and that if I didnt get on the bus, then he couldnt meet me at aunt charlenes house after school cause i'd get in trouble. He hugged me and told me to stop being such a cry baby. I got on the bus, and sat down in the front seat opposite the bus driver. The girl behind me kicked my seat and grunted "took you long enough crybaby" I sat there staring out the window as i watched corey go back into the school. I waved at him, until he got inside of the doors, and then i turned around and sat their singing to myself, trying to ignore the laughs of the girls behind me who were still kicking my seat. I got off the bus at where i thought was my great aunts apartment complex. As the other kids ran off to their homes, i looked around and realized i had no clue where i was. I didnt want to be a baby and ask for help, so i started walking. With no real direction in site. I must have walked several hours, because by the time i reached a familiar neighborhood and found my way to my Grama Jackies house, the other kids were all out of school. I opened the door and instantly heard the echo of "oooo you're gonna get it and someone shoting "grandma Quay-ana's here." My Grampa lamb came rushing to the door with my grandmother walking behind him with her arms crossed disapprovingly. Grampa picked me up and huged me and checked to make sure i was ok. While my grandma went to call Charlene and my mother. I explained to my grampa that i got off at the wrong stop and didnt know where i was. He just said "its ok baby girl, i'm glad your safe" and told me that i could go out and play with my cousins till he got ready to take me home. When grampa brought me to Charlene's, my mother wasnt home. Charlene sent to me to my room, and my grandfather explained to her the situation. I sat in the room for the rest of the evening. No one bothered me. Eventually, i got hungry, I had only had a bowl of cold cereal for breakfast that morning, and spent what would have been my lunch time wandering aimlessly across the city trying to get home. By the time i heard the other kids getting ready for their baths, my stomach was grawling and i was beginning to feel nauseous. I opted to force myself to fall asleep rather than tempt reminding my aunt of my existence. I was young, but i wasnt stupid. I knew that my grandfathers presence, both at my grandmothers house and at my aunt Charlene's house had protected me from getting spanked and there was no point tempting fate.
my mother and i returned to Fort Wayne. Just in time for me to begin kindergarten. The First day of classes. they had us all sit down outside of the hallway for our grades. I knew that i should have started kindergarden the year before, so i walked down the first grade hall and sat with the other kids. After the teachers came to call out the names of the kids in their individual classes, i was the only one left in the hallway. The teachers checked and rechecked their rosters looking for my name, they asked me at least 10 times what my name was and what grade i was in, and i replied each time "My name's quay, and i'm in first grade" One of the teachers walked me to the principals office, trying to find the right place for the lost little girl. As i sat in the lobby watching the receptionist look through the paperwork for "Quay Bowen", my uncle Corey, who was in the second grade came in to the office to get his asthma medication. When he saw me, he chuckeled, "Wow Quay-ana your first day of school and you're already in the office" I looked down at my shoes in shame, and mumbled "they cant find my class." The receptionist overheard our conversation, and came over to speek to my uncle. "Cory, what did you say her name was" she asked with one eyebrow raised" "Quay-Ana mam" Corey puffed his inhaler and sat it on the counter then walked towards the door. As he grasped the handle, the receptionist called out to him while staring directly at me with a look nothing short of discontent.. "Corey, what grade is she in" "Oh, she's a kindergarten baaaaaabbbbbyyyy" As my uncle closed the door behind him, the receptionist stood up and walked into the room behind her. She was speaking calmly and pointing in my direction. A tall slender white man with ash white hair came to the doorway looked at me, and walked to the back closet of his office. In a thick southern drawl he called to the receptionist "Bring er in and shut tha dar" I stood up, the receptionist walked behind me and put her hands gently on my shoulders and walked me into the office. She sad me down in a leather chair facing a giant brown wooden desk and patted me on the shoulder and walked out of the room and shut the door. From a child's perspective, the office looked like a dungeon, The shades on the windows were pulled shut blocking out all natural light in favor of the dim flicker of several 40-65 watt light bulbs hidden in the dome of a ceiling fan. The desk was a dark brown wood, and it seemed to tower over the little leather chair. The walls were barely decorated with with black or dark green plaques of recognition, and various diplomas and certificates with black framing. And there was a Ceramic dalmation sitting smugly on the left side of the desk. I stared at the dog wondering if it was once real, And if it was real, what it's name was. I decided to name it "puppy." I stood up from the chair and went to go pet the dog, when the principal slapped a large wooden paddle on the side of his desk and yelled "Siddawn." The sound was so loud i screamed and jumped back into my chair. the principal asked me why i had told the teachers that i was in the first grade. I went on into an explaination of how i was born in october, and how i should have started school the year prior, and how i knew all of the kindergarden materials already and started to list all the 2 and 3 letter words i knew and that i could say my ABC's Backwards "See look .. Z Y X W V U T" i started to sing.. Tired of my ramble the principal interrupted my song.."I dont car what you can do mrs. lady, you LIED to your teachers. and LYING is NOT acceptable. You lied about your Name, you lied about your grade" "I didnt lie about my name sir" "What's your name darlin" "Quay Sir" "well it says here, on the paper your mother filled out that its Quai-yannn" "Quay-ana.. Ana's my middle name, its my mom's, my middle name used to be D like my daddys name but my momma changed it to match hers because..." "Hun," The principle said in the coldest calmest voice i'd ever heard, "If you dont close your mouth right now, imma take this here paddle n put the fear of god in ya." I immediately stopped speaking. The principal continued in his monolog of expected behavior of children, i tried listening, but i began secretly counting the number of wrinkles on his face, and tracing them into the arm of the chair with my finger. After connecting them to his severe overbite i came to the conclusion that he was the evil old man from poltergeist, or at least his brother. My heart started racing, and i became overwhelmed with anxiety, I HAD to get out of that room before he killed me. And as i began looking for a way to escape, he ended his speech, He walked over to my chair, stood me up, and hit me 3 times on the bottom with the paddle. then proclaimed that if "I ever hear of another lie coming out of that mouth, i will personally wash it out with soap and bend you over my knee and give you what fer, understand" "yes sir" The principal then called the receptionist and told her to take me to my right class. She introduced me to my teacher "mrs.Merryweather" and explained to her that there was a mixup earlier and that i'd ended up in the wrong hall. Mrs.Merryweather took my hand, smiled at me, and knelt down. "Well Queayneea, its just about story time, everyones already sitting in the circle, would you like to come read with us?" I stared at the floor and muttered "thats not my name" "what was that Queaynnea?" she said in her best marry poppins voice. "THATS NOT MY NAME" i yelled as i snatched my hand away. I ran over over to one of the empty tables,slammed myself into a chair, slumped down and layed my head on the desk where i sat for the next 3 hours, until the bell rang for the kindergarten dismissal.

Prodigal Mom

Summer ended. My cousins all went off to school. There was drama surrounding my enrolment in school. Acording to indiana state law a kid had to be 5 before august to start kindergarden. So as a my cousin's went off to school ,i kind of drifted around from relative to relative, with no real place to go. Some time after the glass table incident, my mother came and "rescued" me. we moved to the big city, Indianapolis. We stayed with my aunt pam, though i dont remember much about her in that time. As far as i knew it was my mom's apartment. It was glorious. My mom was my best friend. I thought she was janet jackson. She was so pretty. and she was the epitome of 80's fashion. She'd go to clubs at night in jeans cut up culture club style, and she was so cool, cause she dressed me up just like her. I know i annoyed her, I once got caught with some neighborhood kids playing in the water from the a firehydrant that had been broken into. I remember, before leaving anywhere she'd ask if i had to go to the bathroom... and i'd always say no.. and by the time i got home, i'd be doing the pee dance ready to explode... A few times i did. My aunt really didnt like that. And i had the feeling, that she didnt like me at all. But my mom, even though she'd get visibly upset, never really raised her voice to me. My hair was an impossible mane. Aparently it was too thick to manage. It curled weird, as if parts of my head wanted to be native american and the other parts wanted to be black. It was about shoulder length, but too thick to put into pony tails. One day, Pam's daughter monique came over to perm my hair. . So, they decided to fix it. The experience was nothing short of the scene from the tina turner movie "whats Love got to do with it" where she got her first perminant relaxer... Including the part where her hair fell out. But my mom was awesome. She Went and bough me a "weave" and spent the next 2 days braiding it into what remained of my hair... Of course, the neighborhood kids made fun of my hair. they said it looked like i had snakes in it. They began calling me medusa. The braids Itched horribly, and i'd scratch my scalp to the point where the roots would be pulled out of the braids and all the work my mother put into doing my hair was ruined in less than a week. At some point i started getting sick. I dont remember much. Just one night, as best as i can remember, i drank too much water. i woke up that evening vomiting everywhere. I ran into the living room to get my mother, but she was entertaining guests. She had drank a couple of wine coolers, and being the light weight that she was, she was drunk, Not sloppy drunk. but drunk none the less. She gave me some pedialyte and sent me off to bed. I must be the only kid in the world allergic to pedialyte. but i broke out in a horrible rash, There were whelts all over my body. the next thing i remember, i was in a special home. I have no clue if it was a children's shelter, or a hospital. I didnt know why i was there or where my mother was. but i was there for quite some time. My rash had gone but my stomach had not gotten any better. One day they took all the kids to the circus. The clowns terrified me, But i loved the elephants. When we returned from the circus that day, i was miserable. After dinner, i ran into the bathroom and simultaniously had to poop and vomit. I had no clue what to do first. So i sat down trying to poop, and held my hand over my mouth to keep the puke in. It didnt work. Staff walked in to me soaked in my own vomit crying, because i had thrown up all over the pants my mother gave me. The vomit/puke attacks happened 2 or 3 more times. staff were wise after the first time to provide me with a bucket to puke in... The days there then kinda blurred togeather, until one day my mother came back and got me, and took me back to charlene's house. Aunt Pam would later tell me that this is the first time my mother tried to give me away, but that She (pam) woldnt allow her to and made her go get me to take me home to fort wayne. Pam said My mom couldnt handle me. And that i was ruining her life. But i was blood, and you dont give blood away.

the broken table

Some time after the incident with Shane, HIS older brother nicknamed "Dinkey" decided he wanted in on the game too. My aunt Charlene had a glass table in the den area which had been broken some days before. All of the kids were outside playing in the back yard of the apartment complex and charlene was at work. My mom was still gone. Dinky approached me, much in the same manner as shane, only rather than freddy kruger the threat was The wrath of my aunt.... I guess i should explain here, in my family, a whoopin was the worst thing anyone can experience. Extension chordes, belts, bare fist, anything that could cause the most pain was utilized. The spankins at time didnt end with a lesson, but rather bloodshed, if that. I guess whenever the adult let out whatever anger they had in them over what you had done. Breaking an expensive glass table was probably the equivalent of a normal child killing its sibling. So "dinky" continued to taunt me with the prospect of telling Charlene that i was the one who had broken the table. I being me became hysterical, crying, swearing that i didnt break it. But he said he didnt care, someone had to get it. I pled with him. begging him not to tell her that i did it. I told him i'd do anything. Perhaps, its natural that the older brother is more aggressive, but as i held on to dinky's leg crying, he kicked me. he pushed me down and he pulled off my pants. Unlike his brother i DO remember it hurting, worse than anything that up to then that i had experienced. I guess this is because, well... Dinky used a different hole... Looking back, i swear he must have mistaken me for a grown woman the way that he was pushing in. When he was done, there was a stain on the carpet.. my blood. He said "you fuckin bitch" and got up and went into the bathroom, wiped himself clean, and tossed me a soapy towel and told me to clean it up. Afterwards, he told me to go up to my room. I craweled up the stairs, and went into the bathroom. i stuffed my underwared with toilet paper to catch the blood. Then i got into bed and cried myself to sleep praying my mom would come home and get me... that evening, i was awoken to a belt across the face. Dinky had told charlene that i spilled juice on her carpet. Then a wack to the back, and a few more wherever she could land the hit. I tried to tell charlene what happened, but all i got out was "but charlene, dinky" before she hit me again and told me to shut up cause she didnt wanna listen to my lying ass. She was irate at the fact that the little bitch she took in when not even her own mother wanted her had broken her table. And She said i was lucky she didnt throw my ass in the streets. Then she left. I didnt care about the whoopin. I was actually thankful..She was nice, she let me keep the covers on. I actually dont remember any other spanking where there was actual protective padding between me and the belt.
Prentis Never became my boyfriend. His teenaged brothers however would be the first men that i ever experienced. At Charlenes house, with my mother gone, and charlene working, the older kids ran the house. I remember walking in on the older boys watching porno and them making me sit down and watch. At some point in time someone had the bright idea that it wad ok to let me watch a Nightmare on elm street. Freddy Kruger would actually plague my dreams for years to come. I had a paralizing fear of the dark and could only sleep with the hall light on. One night, my cousin Shane came to my room. Shane was prentis's older brother, and he told me that he knew what i had been doing with nathan, and unless i did it with him he'd tell aunt charlene and make me sleep in the dark so freddy kruger would get me. I told him that i didnt want to, which he passively replied 'Ok". then he called out to charlene's son Nay nay (nickname) who was in the hallway to turn off the hall light. Nay nay turned off the light, and i cried out "please NO he'll get me" Shane agreed to have nay nay turn the light back on if i would "do it with him." I agreed. Nay nay turned the light on. I then told Shane that i didnt want to and i begged him to keep the light on, but he wouldnt listen. he called me a liar, told nay nay to turn the lights off, then said this time, he wouldnt turn the lighs back on until i "did it" with him. Crying i agreed. Shane got in my bed and turned me on my stomach, then he had his way with me. Oddly i dont remember it hurting, Just pressure. And the feeling of his body on me, pushing slowly. I cried a lot. I asked him to stop. When he was finished, he stood up and told me i was "fast" and that aunt charlene would whoop me if i ever told her what happened. Then he laughed at me and walked out the room closing my bedroom door, leaving me in the dark.

Happier times

My casts were pretty definitive characteristic of my childhood. I refused to let them hold me back. Just kidding, there is no determination story here. Just a kid who wanted to play with her cousins. I remember at my aunt Charlene's house, I would Climb up the steps in my casts, then slide down them like it was the funnest game in the world. My cousins would join me. as i recall the younger ones (Jarvis and his sister Jira and my cousin prentis) were exceptionally nice. The older ones however, would go down in history as evil. Eventually though, the casts did come off, and i became a normal kid. My teeth fell out and the toothfairy left me neerly 5 bucks for them. She also gave me a tootsie roll penny bank to keep the money in. But my cousin jaira tricked me into believing her mother had given it to her. My mother found her with the penny bank, and took it. She said something along the lines of me being stupid enough to get tricked and that she had bought it for me to keep my toothfairy money. I think that was a goodbye gift, cause for the next few months, i dont remember my mother being in my life at all. At some point i decided that juice was the only acceptable drink, and there were always arguments with my aunt charlene who would make me drink milk. I'd make Forts out of boxes and on hot summer days i'd make tents by laying a sheet across a fan, laying shoes all around it to hold it down, and turning the fan on high. I must have been 4 years old. The boy next door, nathan, was a year older and i was lucky enough to call him my "boyfriend." and we'd play "hide n go get it" in the empty yard area behind our apartment complex. "get it" being the route of the game, because when a girl was found, her and the boy that found her had to go have sex in the bushes... sex of course being laying on the ground kissing and huntching fully clothed... One night Nathan, His sister, and I tricked his mother into letting me spend the night (i was spending the night with his sister)... That afternoon we played doctor, and made plans to get togeather and Kiss when his mom fell asleep... that never happened because his sister informed me that he had another girlfriend. Knews got wind that i was a "fast" little girl, and soon my cousins wanted in on the action. My cousin Prentis, one afternoon while all the cousins were gathered building our "tents" took me behind the door and kissed me. Prentis was really handsome. He was mixed with indian (native american/india i dont know) and he was 2 years older than me. Not knowing how absolutely disgusting that was, i was really excited that "he liked me" and i wanted him to be my new boyfriend.

the Little cripple

My first memory, and i use this term losely, was in the womb. Its was a fuzzy image of a picture of my mother and some white guy with a calico beard posing for a picture at a prom. Now that i am older, i know this cant possibly be a memory (details later) but like i said, when i look back to my first experience of what we call memory, that is what i have always seen. And to be honest, its the only first hand thing i can account for in my early years. From what my mother tells me, i was a "happy baby" (who wasnt?) I was always smiling and laughing. I rarely cried. And She'd dress me up in this pink jumpsuit which she swore was my favorite. And she'd sing me a special lullaby every night. I learned how to speek at 6 months and how to walk at 9 months, I skipped the potty went striaght to the toilet, and all in all the general exaggerations of grandure any parent would tell you of their child making them seem perfect. But i wasnt perfect, When i was born, i had a MASSIVE birthmark. It stretched, from what i am told, from my upper thigh knee area down to my mid calf. it wrapped around my leg as well. Unlike most birthmarks, this one grew as i grew which caused my family and doctors to worry. Now there are some details that are up to debate regarding my legs. My Grama Jackie, would later tell me that i was extremely bow legged and that the doctors had to break my legs into place so that i could walk properly. My Grampa lamb would later tell me that the mole on my leg was cancerous, My aunt Charlene, said that the doctors said that it may become cancerous. my mother cant really attest to any of these stories because, as she claims, she was young and didnt know what was going on. Well, so i guess all that i can defiantly say was i had a disgusting mole on my leg that may or may not have been cancerous. The doctors decided to do a skin graft to remove the mole with skin from my right leg. This is where my next set of child hood memories come from... During one of my leg surguries, I woke up from my anesthesia, i began screaming hysterically for my mother. I was still under the knife, and the doctors patted my head and put the mask back on my face and i fell back to sleep. I woke up at some point in time that night, and looked over from my hospital bed and saw my mother. That night, my mother was my hero. I loved her more than anything. I tried to get out of bed to get to her, but couldnt. I guess my struggle to get closer to her made a lot of noise, because my mother woke up and came into bed with me and held me like only a mother could. Some morning, (i remember the next, bit i know thats not possible with major surgury, so maybe a few days later) I was wheeled into the lobby an older indian or pakistani doctor stood above me smiling. He told me that if i had any more problems with my leg to come right back to him and he'd fix me right up. Well, he didnt fix my leg. Only half of the birthmark was removed, and i was left with a swastika shaped keloid like scar. My aunt Pamela claims that i was supposed to go back and have the rest removed but we didnt have the insurance. My aunt charlene says that i was just supposed to go back to have the stitches removed and the reason my scar is as thick and ugly as it is, is because my skin healed over the stitches. The only thing i am certain of is that, there was supposed to have been a second trip to the hospital whether it was for surgery or stitch removal. Given my current training i have to say the stitch removal story is preposterous, after all, though i spent much MUCH time in double casts, at some point the casts came off and any doctor with half a brain would have removed month (maybe year) old stitches.
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