The Altered Ego

Perceivable Inheritants~ (Entry 11) {1996}

Dear Diary, 

My life had plummeted into a dark abiss with no way to escape. Reality had reared it’s ugly face toward me, and the curtains draped over the crooked window we now had claimed was home. The vows were official…nothing could be reversed. My father had gravitated towards more drugs, over-the-counter medication, alcohol, gambling, and sex addictions to ease his subtle conflictions. 

A whole year had flown by and I had turned 6 years old. I had spent countless hours isolated in my bedroom…almost completely detatched from my intuitive thought processing. A child was meant to explore their surroundings by interacting with other peers, adapting to different scenario’s and testing their limits. Well, unfortunately…my mind set had altered into that of an obedient canine. My days were simply dictated under the authority of a “mom-zilla” so to speak.

It was quite obvious my father had no desire for Kris. He plastered numerous pornographic images on his walls in the office suite. His apple computer contained various…yet tasteless content of the women genitalia. He also kept several knives loosely dangling from the cupboard doors. It concerned me to see this new transformation taking place in a once well-adjusted father model. Yet, my father was disturbed over the most simplistic idealisms. 

Despite being young; I held myself back from questioning his thoughts to self-mutilate, murder or vandalize public property. It was almost as if God had intended him to act out in different scenario’s. He even craved off other people’s suffering. I never could understand what made a wolf in sheep’s clothing drastically lower themselves to highly risky measures. Was he possessed by a demonic plague? 

In comparison…nothing felt safe anymore. Kris was fulfilling most of the financial debt through the Family Sport’s Bar… across the street from where we resided. Occasionally, she spent a few weekends away participating in bowling tournaments. On the other hand…my father was busy planning other motives behind her back. Sometimes I was even chosen as part of the equation of role-play vs actual fantasy. 

Nights seemed coincidentally covenient for any type of “house-play”. Especially when Kris was away on her extensive business trips. My father would invite random people over that he claimed were his “comrades”. “You got the goods”? My father would yell out. He then approached me and would tell me to wait for him. The parties would last for hours…obnoxious laughter and breaking of glass…sometimes even debates that would lead to brawls. 

His friend Cory was commonly the most persistent friend that would come over. He and my dad had an arrangement together…it was apparent what their plan had conspired into. I often hid behind the walls of my room…crying myself to sleep…wishing the constant commotion and smuggling of drugs would end. They weren’t curing my father’s ailments; and certainly weren’t pertaining to my needs of wanting a true father figure. 

I will never forget the night he touched me. His plump body crushing my ribcage and attempting to rip open my pajamas. The occurence had unraveled into a series of events. My father had told me Cory was picking him up to tend to “adult matters”…something a small person could not apprehend. I had been home-alone by myself all throughout most of the day. Though it felt sincerely immaculate…I still felt petrified and made certain to lock all the doors. My father had explained a brief period ago…how crucial it was to not answer to strangers. So I conformed to his requests. 

We lived in a cruddy mobile home park…everyone mostly kept to themselves; but gangs lingered everywhere throughout the area. Sometimes, if it was appropriate…I would hang by the creek and saturate my feet in the mud. I had fondly been interested in all the sediments embedded into the rocks. Of couse, bugs were exhilarating to speculate too. Even though it probably would be perceived as redundant…from an adults perspective. At least now the foreseeable future would soon reveal it’s destiny.

Good night Diary.

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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
15 comments on “The Altered Ego
  1. micketalbot says:

    Whoa, like the story, but not liking what it touched on, no pun intended. This was part of your young life, how brave you are to make it public. With a little trepidation I await the next chapter.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. You’re writing is wonderful despite the horrible subject matter. Just glad you survived it all 👍

    Liked by 2 people

  3. nkdwhtguy says:

    Your story is both disturbing and intriguing. I look forward to reading more of your posts.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. pius andruda says:

    Please say it’s not true..The writing’s lovely though. The story’s sad as hell 😦

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Jayne says:

    Hi, I just hopped over to your web-site using StoUblempun. Not somthing I might normally read, but I liked your views none the less. Thanks for creating some thing worthy of browsing.

    Liked by 1 person

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