The Scurried Night

Numb to the Touch~ (Entry 12) Winter {1996}
Another day had surpassed and I began to pull my hair back in a vague pony-tail with a slight curl hanging from each side. I had much to look forward to, and I walked just a short range to the bus stop every morning by 8 o-clock sharp! Such an unpredicatable day soon awaited. My step-mom had left a few peices of bread on the counter, a small jar of peanut butter as well as a cylinder full of jam on the counter-top. The morning was quite surreal, with a swift wind blowing in opposite directions. 

Once again, my neighborly peers had stood by the bus stop…curiously withstanding the long duration of waiting. They always seemed to discover ways to evoke my patience as well as be a bunch of persistent pests. On the contrary…at least I wasn’t compelled to give into their unnecessary pranks. Tyler, was a snotty-nosed, spoiled brat who always wanted to be convinced he was right. He had a scrawny appearance about him, jaded eyes and a lock of hair in a dark mohagany brown shade. He never ceased to fool anyone. 

Regardless, I suppressed my little crush-like feelings for him. All the other little girls in the neighborhood were flirts toward him…but I suppose I was just a bit too modest. I was used to being aquainted to strangers…whom of which were far-fetched and utterly permiscuous. The normality of such odds were invincible to say the least. Yet, I somehow tolerated the indignity of my father’s choices and adapted to the life-change.

The bus had soon arrived and we had scooted along to head to school. Tyler had no issues accompanying me and of course…he made animated faces. We sat nearly at the back of the bus often…anxious for the bumpy commotion on the gravel road during our trip to 1st grade. I turned my head and avoided direct contact with anyone. I suppose it was the fact that somehow my engagement with others was completely depleted. Afterall, my father locked me in a dim room, isolated, exposed and completely traumatized. 

Bizarre sounds echoed my room almost everynight. I tried to block out the banging of doors, screaming, faint creaking , knives being thrown into the walls…noises of brawls, laughing, cries of my father, and of course the moaning of his affairs. Sometimes, I felt like a personal “pin up doll” My father was careless in that sense. He would command that I comply to interacting with his “muses” I didn’t think twice half the time…I just obeyed his requests. My body was contorted to suit the needs for his pleasure…I was completely oblivious and not aware what was happening during those moments.

I sat and dazed off and pondered about the dreadful night I had first been violated in a sexual mannor. My father had been entirely intoxicated that night and his mentality was off the grid. His so called “business partner” Corey…was a middle aged man, tall, plump and pig faced. Yet, he also had a muscular appearance that many would percieve as intimidating. His eyes were a dark brown, slight anguler nose and pointed chin. Thick ashy brown hair that slicked back from each side as well as a beer belly that hung out from his faded jeans. 

I remember it like day and night. The hours ticked by as my dad recalled… he would be out doing numerous errands that evening. I wasn’t allowed to answer the door for anyone, and he had promised to be back as soon as time permitted itself. Well, it was apparent to me how blantantly clever he was with coming up with excuses. I even convinced myself the lies he made up were authentically sincere. It turned out he had been wasting away gambling and drinking heavily with Corey. 

Finally, despite being home alone…I had the opportunity to fall into a slumber more soundly than I had in a very long time. But, unfortunately, there was no lock on my door and the walls were quite thin. My stomach churned rapidly with an occassional gargling sound. What could I possibly have to fret about now? My father was nowhere in sight…and perhaps would remain occupied with his festivities. However, low and behold…just when I was about to fall into a trance…my bedroom door flew open unexpectedly. 

My body quivered and shook uncontrollable. At first I assumed my father stood at the entrance waiting to prowl onto me. Afterall, my body was no longer mine…I was trapped inside a fantasized illusion of what could be relevant or precariously make-believe. It was at that moment…corey hovered over me grabbing my blankets with a strong grip and yanking them off of me. I shrugged my shoulders…trying to open my tiresome eyes. I felt too vulnerable to scream out help! He kept repeating several words that night…”I want to sleep with you”…”let me in your bed now”.

His strength out-numbered my own ability to restrain his grasp. He fondled me harshly till I surrendered to him…trying to unbutton my night gown along with attempting to pull down my garments. I cried as he crushed his fat flesh against my ribs…laying literally on top of me. Tears trickled down my face, and I luckily retrieved a lamp on my night stand table. Ever so quickly…I had swung the lamp towards Corey…bashing his shins hard enough in order to escape. I had also kicked at an angle toward his chest to force him off of me. 

Shortly after the perpetrator fell to the ground…my father awoke and heard me scream mildly. I had been so frightened from the incident that I hyperventillated myself. It got to a point that my breathing gradually increased at maximum speed. My heart pulsated and my body froze as if I had no feeling at all. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO MY DAUGHTER”? My father shouted fiercely. Tears soaked my pillow as I looked away almost ashamed to expose my nipples. 

My father had noticed my pj’s were half way undone. It was one of those rare ordeals…that my dad actually demonstrated he cared about me…at least for a brief minute. “GET THE FUCK OUT”! My father demanded. He escorted Corey out the door and he was banned to enter our premises ever again. Well, in my father’s eyes “ever again” was very short-lived. Turns out, they had drank several hard liquors and tried to absorb some of the alcohol by eating pizza. (Laughs) such brilliant men…NOT!

I felt awefully vulnerable that night…my father cradled me in his arms and suggested that I not attend school for a few days till I was more at ease with the situation. I dreaded everyday walking the hill to the bus stop. Corey just lived a few blocks away and I knew everytime I walked by…he would be staring directly at me from his front window. He haunted me…I even thought at times he was following me. I became paranoid of my surroundings and just knew…one way or another I had to face my demons sooner than later.



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

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