I was reading Rev Deborah story of Tragedy to Triumph In the book; Daughters Of Destiny, her story really moved me. I for one have been through a lot of tragedy in my life, starting from the early age of 4, when my mother and father decide to separate officially and get a divorce.
My mother has always spoken about how hard it was to give birth to me because I didn't want to be born into this world. Secondly she constantly reminds me about how much of a daddy's girl I was and that I was much closer to my dad then her.
When I was five years old my sister and I moved with our mother on 21st and Venice Blvd in Los Angeles. I remember me and my younger sister were standing in the middle of the dinning room floor,while my mom was talking to the landlord of our new apartment and in that room was a brown wooden floor and when you looked down on the floor there appeared a body outline in chalk, indicating someone had died in that apartment. I remember as time had passed, my younger sister Wanda,asked my mother about the figure of the body outline in chalked in the middle of the dinning room floor.
My mother said to my sister," what are you talking about I never saw a figure of a body outline in chalk in the middle of the dinning 's room floor. At that point me and my sister knew there was something evil lurking in that apartment, and because we were young and innocent,I truly believe that's why me and my sister could see the figure on the floor.
Finally my sister, my mom and myself moved into our new apartment happy and full of great anticipation while the neighbors below us constantly fight and argue every night. Then one night something was different about the way our neighbor's argue,it got real quiet, then all of a sudden we heard a loud boom, like a gun had went off and all of a sudden we heard siren coming from the cars of the police and ambulance. I ran to my bedroom window to confirm what I had heard and to mu surprise the police had our neighbor in handcuff escorting him to one of the police cars.
The next morning after breakfast, my younger sister and I were allowed to go outside and play, we left out the back door and ran to front of the apartments to find out what happen last night, to my surprise we open the front door of our neighbor's apartment and saw what looks a figure of a body outline in chalk. My sister and I looked at each other concluded that someone had died our neighbor's last night and we walked away from our neighbor's apartment without saying a word to each other. That's when the abuse in my life started.
My mother gave my father another opportunity work things out between them by allowing my father to move back home, 2 days after the incident of our neighbor took place. It felt good to both my parents back home and my mother seem very happy, but that didn't last for long. One night not too long after my dad moved in, Me and my younger sister were awaken by a loud arguments between my mother and father, we didn't do too much about it and we laid in our bed in silence as we listen to both parent until we fell back a sleep.
I was waken this time because I heard other male voices in our apartment beside my dad. I got out of my bed to see two police officers dragging my father out of our apartment in handcuff because from what my mother told me, he had beaten her up pretty bad that night. But all I remember is crying and reaching for my dad, as the police officers were dragging my dad down the stairs with no shirt on,I pleaded and pleaded to the police officers not to take my father to jail.. I cried and cried because I wanted my dad at home with us, because I felt safe when my dad was at home with my sister and me.
That night is when my whole relationship with my mother changed and my mother became very bitter and she took all her anger out on me,she begin whooping me with extension cords, slapping me, choking me with her hands or by sticking the handle of a broomsticks down my throat. and hitting me over my head with a high heel shoe or a steel frying pan. My mother would constantly reminded me,of how much I loved my father no matter what he did to her or some other woman.Every grudge, resentment and pain my mother felt towards my dad ,she would take that out on me.
When the abuse started in my life, I tried to find an adult who would give me the love and the attention I was not getting at home. I felt as though my mother hated me and she regret giving birth to me. My mother made me feel like I was fat and ugly, A trouble maker and like I was her enemy. As a child because of the abuse I suffer from, low self-esteem and I cried a lot in school and pretended to be sick so I can be sent to the nurse, because In school that was the only adult I would get positive attention from.
The beatings continue and some days would be worst than others. I remember my mother came home very angry about something. Whatever it was it wasn't bad enough for the next few events to occur in a 6 year old life. I don't remember what exactly trigger my mother to be so angry but she started yelling and screaming at me, with so much anger that it was nothing I could say or do to calm my mother down literally I became very scared and shaking beyond my control. She became so violet with me,she order me to take off all my clothes as she was yelling and stripping down to just her panties and as, I laid across my mother bed completely nude to receive my beating and I started crying and pleading to God to make my mother stop. My mother order me to get off her bed because the beating she was giving me was not severe enough to her. So as she continue to beat me, she told me to kneel down on the floor I pleaded and begged my mother whatever I did to make her so anger with me at time apologize but to my mother apologize was not good enough. When I got completely down on the floor, lying face down my mother continue to whoop me in abusive way, she then got on top of me, with nothing but her panties on and took my right leg and twisted it so hard that the bone in my legs snap, my mother had no ideal she broke my leg,as she continue to beat and socked me. Finally my mother got weary from whooping so much, she got up from sitting on top me and me to get up and go take a bath. As I tried to get off the floor and walk,I realize I could not stand on my right leg. My mother came over to me and help me up as I hop over to her bed, she exam my leg and realize something was definitely wrong with my leg. She then went over to the bathroom to run me some warm water to take a bath and soak my leg. My mother assumes that my ankle was either sprung or I pull a muscle. Never did my mom imagine that my leg had a fracture due to her beating me and twisting my leg at the same time. I on the other hand pretty much knew my leg was fracture or broken. My mother came over to the help me out of the bathtub in hopes I could walk. I tried to put my leg down on the floor to walk and when I realize`I couldn't walk I started crying, after all I was only six years old at that time. When my mom finally realize something was seriously wrong with my leg. She asked my sister to help me get dressed while she coach me on what to say to the doctors and nurses if they should ask me. My mother told me to tell the doctors and nurses that I was dancing and my leg got caught under a chair and I twisted it the wrong way and couldn't walk on my leg. Once my mother felt I memorize what she coach me, to say to the nurses and doctors. She then felt comfortable enough to take me to the hospital.
After we found out my leg was fracture and not broken,my mother stopped beating me for brief moment because she felt guilty for fracturing my leg.
Before too long the beatings and the whipping began again, whenever my mother came home angry about something, Her reason for beating me was that I loved my father more, no matter what he did wrong. overtime my mother thought about how much abuse she experience from my dad, she would take her feelings out on me by tieing an extension cord around my neck so tight, it felt like my mom was trying to strangle me or she would whoop me and slapping me around until she became exhausted or untill her anger ceased. Sometimes she would take the extension cord tied it around my neck and take the other end and tied it to the door knob and cut off the hallway light, and leave me there over night in total darkness like an animal until she felt ready to unleash me and allow me back into the house.
s years went by and I grew up the abuse got worst and worst, when my mom got angry, she would hit me over and over again with an old fashion wooden broom stick or she would put the wooden part of the broom stick in my mouth to the back of my throat until I started gagging for air or almost to the point I was losing conciousness.When that was not enough she would take her iron frying pan and hit me numerous times in my face and head. Sometimes at night I couldn't sleep, so I used to bang my head on my pillow because I was scared of the darkness in my room and my mother use to creep in my room when she thought she heard me banging my head, she would get one of her spike high heel shoes and without warning she would come to my bed at night and hit me over the head numerous times until I was fully awoke and crying.( That was so evil of my mother)My mother never learned how to forgive my dad that's why she had so much anger towards him and for that reason that's why she abused me
No comments:
Post a Comment