A Road Less Traveled

Lost In The Dark~ (Entry 3){1995}.


Dear Diary,

It is my first day of preschool and I look like a Eskimo. This lady my dad is supposed to marry in less than 5 weeks; has bought me nothing but hand me down’s. My socks consist of endless holes, my shoes are too tight, and the cotton clothing on my body shrinks in less than a few washes…Surely hell hadn’t begun to prevail yet. It was bad enough this women had cruel intentions of her own. However, my father was the type to marry women for their money.

Her name was Kris I had found out later that day. She had two bucked teeth, permed hair… the color of light walnut brown. Her skin was pale, eyes a light brown with a circle of yellowish-green around the iris. She smoked often in the house, car and throughout the day. My lungs tried to resist the toxins daily. Regardless, I seriously despised her in every way, but for the sake of my father…had to remain civil. This was the big day, I was going to be experiencing the thrills of riding on a bus (Laughs). Perhaps, it was at least a way to escape from the realities of the “wicked witch” aka (step-mom).

My father held my hand as we both waited for the bus to arrive to its destination. I kissed him on the cheek and rolled my eyes as I entered onto the bus. There was a fowl smell…a rotten apple core or some type of stinge in the air. I had a keen sense of smell…at least it wasn’t the green filth of rat poison. Ugh, I dreaded the existence of smoke and anyone that could tolerate such a substance. Since my father was dating this treacherous women…he developed a habit of smoking too. Well, a 5-year-old could only take in so much.

I sat near the bus driver, as he drove recklessly. Why was the bus empty? There were no other kids my age in sight. I began to question the driver’s motives…”Where are we going? I asked. The bus driver was a gentleman of few words. I knew at that very moment…we passed the school. Where was I going? Low and behold…after 20 minutes the bus door opened, and I was escorted out by a slender middle-aged women wearing a badge below her left upper coat pocket. She smiled down at me and gently patted my shoulder. “Not to worry darling”, you are in good hands and unfortunately your father was arrested this morning”.

The smile from my little face turned upside down..streams of tears began to fall from my face. “Why”? I asked. She explained that I was too young to understand, but my father would be held in captivity for a time equivalent to at least 6 months. “I want my daddy”, I screamed with rage. I tried to wiggle my way out of the women’s arms. She had a tight grip on me…telling me to calm down and that all would be okay. I was then led to a door way entrance with a blue archway. There was a floor mat that read “Welcome”. The house appeared older than the norm; a beige color from what I recall, and a scent of lavender and peppermint. (Don’t ask me how I remember this ha ha).

The women modestly knocked on the dark mahogany door. The door opened, and an elderly women with a few dark moles on her face answered sternly. “Who is there and what do you want?” The women with the badge politely replied. “I have a troubled child that needs tending to”. She made it sound like I was a hinderance…how rude. The elderly women glanced down at me with curiosity. “Hmmm…well, I suppose we can get her cleaned up, and introduce her to the bunch”. During that day, I had worn my favorite locket my mother had given to me as newborn. I carried my little purple backpack as well that contained my favorite stuffed animal bunny…snuggles.

The elderly women quickly pushed me aside and grabbed my hand. “Run along now”, she replied. “Me and your “Social Worker” have some unfinished business to attend to”. I was escorted into a dim room that smelt of urine and dirty diapers. I held my breath, crying silently. I removed my backpack and retrieved my bunny. The day couldn’t get any worse could it? (Thinking to myself). I kneeled down on the floor, sobbing heavily as I hugged my bunny aggressively. It was painful knowing my father was in jail, but why? Suddenly the door opened abruptly. “Stop your crying this instance”. The elderly women commanded.

She then took her hand and harshly yanked my locket off my neck. I watched the chain break and the locket fell to the ground. “You won’t be needing this garbage”. The elderly women then did the unthinkable, and crushed my locket with her shoe. I held back the tears, and kept myself obedient as I watched all of my possessions become only memories. After she destroyed my locket…she passively grabbed my bunny and tore it till it was shreds of cotton. She laughed amusingly, and sent me to bed without dinner that night…I fell to my knees helplessly, whimpering in silence all throughout the rest of that horrid night. I thought to myself (I guess this is what the foster life is like). My beloved treasures were now obsolete and my innocence stripped.

Good night Diary.







Kristi has told her testimony to over 2,000 foster youth in 2012. She continues to inspire many with her creative writing style and chilling stories depicted by an innocence and horrid journey.

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Posted in Diary Entries
31 comments on “A Road Less Traveled
  1. micketalbot says:

    I definitely had a good childhood, cant wait to find out what the dad has done? Mmm, I remember reading the word ‘psychopath somewhere along the way, hmmm? πŸ˜‰

    Liked by 1 person

  2. It’s building up nicely. Curve balls all the way!!!


  3. Anonymous says:

    this entry is light and funny compared to the other entries, well the first 3rd of it is basically a cute little toddler experiencing adults in funny unique observations, then suddenly darkness falls and darkness be comes as black as midnights and it gets worst, the heartbreaking confusion and sadness of a child is captured well, heartbreaking and almost bracing for the future. I love this woman a rumble of feminine strength. go and be the woman you were born to be.


  4. Sreeblogs says:

    Oh my God…this is the most saddening entry out of all three I’ve read ☹️☹️

    Liked by 1 person

  5. eliza rudolf says:

    Well βœ’ pennedπŸ‘πŸ‘ŒπŸ€—


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