Deceitful Intentions

Against All Odds~ (Entry 5) {1995}

10

Dear Diary,

It was nearly noonish. My heart was racing, palms sweaty, and muscles full of tension. I was about to purposely lie to my “social worker”. Then again, was it my fault? This deranged, elderly women was harassing me to do so. What if I failed my attempt? I would be utterly devoured into my own misery and humiliation. There was a faint knock at the door…I stood by “Nana” eager to discover the updated news on my father. “Welcome back”! “Delighted to see you again…how is everything progressing so far”? The elderly women nudged me. “I am most content”. I snarled with a pretentious smile. “OMG”! What happened to your arms? I smiled again, but this time fidgeted with a panicky gesture. “I have been clumsy and “tripped” a few times on my way down the stairs”.

“You gotta love children”! Nana snickered. “They are always, indeed full of surprises aren’t they”? The women with the badge nodded in discernment. “Okay “sweetie”, move along now and go in your room for a nap”. I nodded, and smiled back at my social worker trying to hold back tears. I had noticeable dimples on both sides of my cheeks regardless…but, that was besides the point. (Laughs) Perhaps more like “the point of no return”. I awkwardly waddled my way to the dim room that had haunted me for several months now. Gently closing the door behind me; I began to once again… listen in on Nana, and my social worker’s discreet discussion.

“So far, from what we have gathered…the child will remain in custody with social services until further notice”. “We have speculated that David has been a persistent seller of illegal drugs for quite some time now”. The elderly women scuffed. “I hope, leaving the child in your care is not a hinderance”? “We found out earlier this week…David was concealing 73 pounds of meth inside his van. “We assume he was using the hemp seeds to generate some form of profit… as a means to sustain himself”. The women with the badge rambled on. “The investigation will be ongoing, and the legal guardian of Kristi is not a suitable match”. “Our mission is to place the child into a stable environment that will allow her to thrive, provide her structure, and stimulate her young mind.

Despite being a small person; I was convinced the outcome of this conversation was about to turn out very ugly. My father was hiding drugs for a form of money? He was an impulsive liar, and I hated him for not protecting me from this cruel place. I HATED HIM! Once again, the tears trickled down my little face. I felt betrayed and trapped. The torture was continuous and I had just lied to my social worker’s face without blinking an eye. Maybe she was able to read me like a book? I flopped on the floor and deliberated. “How could he do this to me”? I thought out loud. I am supposed to be his priority, his daughter, the apple of his eye…I sniffled feebly. I ease-dropped once more.

“This child is no other than a burden just like all the other children”. Nana howled. “However, someone has to keep them in line and if it has to be me…then so be it”. “Kristi obviously need’s constructive discipline”…She lacks the necessary skills of being obedient, and I will not tolerate misbehaved brats”. My social worker’s name… I found out, was Cecile. She had been affiliated with The Child Protective Services for over 6 years. She was blunt, precise and quite articulate. “Very well then”, Cecile retorted. “We predict Kristi will be in your care for another three months”. “The time frame can be subject to change at anytime”. “Please understand this is temporary, and we will decide what is best for the child at a later date”. The social worker said her farewell and left the premises.

I bowed my head in disappointment. “Another three months of hell”? Why was God punishing me? I couldn’t quite fathom another few months under the dictatorship of a monster. “Where are you brat”? Nana barked. I walked sluggishly towards her as she grabbed me firmly by the arm. “You are just a waste of my time aren’t you”? “Nobody wants you apparently, so now I am forced to deal with you… and the other shit heads around here”. I grinned. “I have a special project for you my deary…If it isn’t complete in a timely fashion; you will remove your undergarments and receive punishment”. “DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR”? “Yes Nana”. I sighed.

“Wipe that cutesy smirk off your face”…You will be educated under my expense from now on”. “You are stupider than a ton of bricks and if you are to manage in this world…you must toughen up”. “Now, I will give you some flash cards to practice your ABC’s”. She handed me a stack of index cards with printed lettering on them. Needless to say, I was acutely far more intelligent than this women had claimed about me. I had a slight quirk in my speech developement due to brain trauma. However, I did not wish to be perceived as “Stupid”. Everyone, I believed had their own level of intellect. Some learned quicker than other’s, and that was just the way things were. I struggled trying to pronounce certain letters due to my impediments. “Damn YOU”! “Stupid children will not suffice with me”.

Maybe I was stupid (Sighs). Was it really my fault…I learned slower than some? Why was a child punished for their absence of correlating words together? “Pull down your under-garments so I can teach you a lesson”. I moaned timidly, but complied. She grabbed a leather belt, and swatted me multiple times. I wailed in pain, and the sensation of the leather touching my skin burned intensely. “LEAVE ME ALONE”! I screamed. She slapped me across the face. “YOU HAVE NO AUTHORITY TO TALK BACK TO ME IN THAT SMART ALEC TONE”. I nodded…submissively.

I was intimidated by Nana. She defined my hell perfectly as if hell was an actual concrete place. My father described GOD as a fruitful spirit that inflicted pain on those that disobeyed him. I never understood what I could have caused to endure this forsaken life. “You will not talk back EVER to me”. Nana gestured with disapproval. “Go down the hallway to the bathroom and retrieve the bar of soap located on the glass holder”. I fulfilled her request and dreaded what was to come.

Good night for now, Diary.

 

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Disguised In Black & Blue

Lifeless~ (Entry 4){1995}

6

Dear Diary,

It is finally morning, and my pillow is saturated in tears from the night before last. The bed was the least far from comfortable, as was the filthy sheets I slept in. I stood up, my feet numb and my body shivering from the cold air circulating from a window. I am honestly still dumbstruck…how could anyone tolerate such a loathsome creature? The door suddenly unfastened and the elderly women approached me with fury. “Hurry up, and get downstairs with the other brats”. I nodded with disgust and scurried downstairs with a slight hesitation.

“Alright, this here is Crissy”. The elderly women lashed out. I noticed so many other little faces in front of me. They all appeared malnourished, disgruntled and absolutely petrified. “Show her what she needs to do and wash up for grub”. “Don’t keep me waiting… anyone who does not follow orders will be punished”. A little girl, perhaps a year or two older than me grinned… and lead me to the hallway. There was a big white board on the wall, names alphabetized, as well as a list of chores to complete daily. She pointed where my name was located on the list, and then left me to fulfill each objective.

The list was long and tedious…but I started off with one chore at a time. The first check mark was labeled “Living Room” I figured self-explanatory…even though this was my first time ever cleaning anything. There was a description below that conveyed what items to use and where they were located. “vacuum” was one item listed…another “Duster” hmm. As I dawdled my way to the closet entrance in order to retrieve the vacuum; I heard a high-pitched whistle go off. “Time to eat brats Hustle in here NOW”! I rushed to the kitchen, anxiously awaiting the cravings of food…Yet, to my surprise the food was not what I had intended.

“Why are you not eating”, the elderly women asked? “You selfish little girl…expecting gourmet food are we”? “You barked up the wrong tree my deary, let me give you a dose of your own medicine”! She forcibly took the soggy bread with the rotten fixings and shoved it down my throat. I regurgitated as the taste was vile. She then rubbed my face in my own vomit and left me to squander in my chair. I wept profusely…”You are a pathetic child, no crying is allowed while your under my roof”. “Rules will be implied and followed you understand”? I nodded sheepishly. “Get back to your chores…run along now”. “What a witch”, I thought to myself.

It was nearly noon now and my belly roared in discomfort. I had been cleaning the living room from top to bottom for 4 hours now. I also managed to cleanse my face off from the mistreatment from earlier. To my dismay, how much torture could one person take at this place? Apparently turmoil became second nature to the other children. On the other hand; I needed to figure out a strategy and fast. Running away maybe…no because then my social worker would be notified. I pondered for a long while not knowing what to do or how to go about the situation. “Are you done with the chores”? The elderly women hissed. I nodded. “Yes ma’am”. “Well your father ought to better teach you better manners”.

We addressed the elderly women by a name called “Nana”…Bizarre I know. She never smiled and was definitely always dissatisfied. I described her as a bully because she always seemed to pick me as a target. There was one day I recall, in which I supposedly missed a spot on the bathroom floor…yup you guessed it (Sickened Laugh). I was punished. Her favorite tool to use on me was the end of a broom stick. Not like rubbing my face in vomit was bad enough. I went to bed nightly with bumps, scrapes, bruises and even gashes on my helpless little body. On the contrary, at least I wasn’t sent to bed without a mushy meal.

It had been a little over 2 months now, and my body was drained from all the hard labor. I missed my father entirely, and more so than I ever had in my life. I desperately yearned for his affection and embrace. The day was dreary, like usual. My social worker was arriving later on today to do a monthly evaluation as well as my progress with “Nana”. (Laughs) I prayed for God to rebuke this elderly women. Send her to the hell where she was conceived. I chuckled quietly. “Why are you laughing”? “Nobody is allowed to be happy without my permission under this roof…you hear”. I nodded offensively.

“Now girly, listen carefully…if your social worker asks about your bruises; lie and tell her your clumsy and trip over items in the household easily”. “But…DON’T BUT ME”! “I will choke you and make you wish you were never born if you don’t obey me”. I nodded agreeably and stagnant. “Yes nana”. “Good girl, now be on your best behavior and pretend your happy”. I felt like this elderly women’s personal puppet…I had no say on my behalf, because I was still just a powerless 5-year-old. Lie? I didn’t want to lie to my social worker, but then again I had no choice. My life was at stake…

Bye for now, Diary.

 

 

 

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A Road Less Traveled

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

5

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.

 

 

 

 

 

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Unforgettable Memories…

The Truth Revealed: (Entry 2){1994}.4

Dear Diary,

The summer of 1994 was almost over, and I was having a blast being a normal kid. Disney land was magical and I got to embrace the excitement of meeting Mickey Mouse in person. I guess I considered myself lucky…the fact I even got to experience such a place. (Laughs) “It’s a small world after all” All time favorite song at the time. I was fascinated by the iridescent lights, the harmonic melody and the figures dancing so delicately in alignment. It was soothing to a small person like me at the time. What kid, wouldn’t be intrigued?

My Aunt’s were very generous people…I felt like they pitied me in a sense; due to the fact my father was a nut case and was banned from every city he lived in… at least in the state of California. Of course, I tended to be a smart Alec most of the time, and pretended not to ease drop on their nightly conversations. Most kids are usually sly especially when it comes to the term M-A-N-I-P-U-L-A-T-I-O-N (Laughs). Then again, I was the complete opposite. I was considered the “Angel Child”. Always polite, even-tempered, and easily ashamed over simple accidents.

Before my father had taken me away the winter of 1993; he had been smitten with a lady named Susan. She was kind, outspoken, and had a son a little over a year younger than me. He was a trouble maker to say the least…always pulling on my ears, throwing his toy trucks at me, blaming me for incidences that were not my fault. Yes, Michael was a spoiled brat that always got his way regardless. My father assumed Susan was abusing me…so he had once again packed our things and we left without saying goodbye.

So, that is how I ended up spending a summer in Disneyland with my so-called “wealthy” relatives. I realized if I feared something, it had to be anything that was fast and went upside down. Yup, rollercoaster’s were not my friend…I flinched at the sight of them. My aunt’s encouraged me to try at least once…ugh nope it wasn’t gonna happen. I had made up my mind, and if the contraption was gonna cause me nausea…no thanks. After several attempts of trying to convince me, my aunt’s surrendered the argument. It was my last night before a long trip back to South Dakota to see my father once again. We had eaten a hearty dinner and then it was off to bed.

The trip this time around, was surprisingly quick. I was so exhausted, that as I recall…I literally had slept the entire 8 hours on the plane. I felt at ease, knowing me and my father would be reunited. Meanwhile, as the plane landed; something seemed odd and very different about my father. He had a slight grin on his face, his hair was jet black as usual, curled in tight ringlets, but he appeared rather giddy. His mood seemed calm but I felt a bit timid at the same time. We got into his van and drove off back to the dump we called home. He sang obnoxiously “So many nights, I sit by my window…waiting for someone to sing me their song…” He sang often with determination. I still sometimes hear him sing in my dreams.

He asked me how my summer went, and all the things that I did. We discussed Disney Land and he smiled lightly at me. As we approached the trailer park, there was another car parked near by. I was confused and snarled at my dad… as I knew he was keeping something from me. He began to explain to me that he met a “Nice” women while I was away. He then caught me off guard…when he mentioned… NEW MOM! I just gave him the cold shoulder…and walked swiftly to my room and slammed the door. “Why me? I cried, this would be my 3rd “mother figure”. I barely just turned 5 years old what was a kid to do? How was I supposed to process my own feelings?

My dad planned to marry this stranger…I never got a chance to get to know her. I was expected to call her MOM? (Sighs). My father yelled at me to come out of my room and be a big girl. Well, I certainly didn’t want the belt treatment so I cooperated accordingly. The women sourly smiled at me and pinched my cheeks. “She is small” The women replied. My father did not mention my age apparently (Laughs).  She didn’t seem happy to meet me, and little did I know …that my young life would begin to welt up like a flower bud. This women had no other intentions but to make my life a living hell.

Well, good night for now Diary.

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The Darkness Awakened

The Silenced~( Diary Entry 1) {1993 }.

baby 1

Dear Diary, the memory of my mother was so vague…I could not quite describe the detached emotions one should feel. After all, how could a little person, like myself comprehend the difference between concrete and tangible things? Nevertheless, here I was alone searching for the truth that I so desperately needed. Where was I going? Why was I being forced to sit next to a stranger? The plane was about to depart and soon my mother would be completely nonexistent.

They say “pictures are worth a thousand words” such pictures were only embedded into my memories, perhaps even in my dreams. My father was my only connection to the world and how it was perceived. As far as I was concerned…there was nothing to fear because my dad would protect me. Well, at least this was the false impression of him; I clanged onto for several years.

The turbulent’s were intense now as I quietly sat in my designated area on the plane. I remember  how content and uncertain I felt, not knowing what awaited me in this strange new place. Tears fell from my face, and I felt a queasy feeling inside the pit of my stomach. My father was nowhere in sight. I waited anxiously for his return, but several hours went by, and still nobody answered my cries.

(Thinking) I feel “nostalgic” (laughs) the early stages of life are so easy you would think… People don’t seem so scary, because they are supposed to be portrayed as the characters in books and movies right? Well, of course at a young age nothing is questionable until you have your innocence stripped out from in front of you. I soon had to discover my own survival mechanisms and my life was just beginning. Let’s just mention that darkness had found me by the time I reached 5 years old.

Awhile later; we had finally landed and the winds were bitterly harsh. I was shivering uncontrollably and quickly escorted into a vehicle. I don’t recall much that had happened that day…all I knew is that everything I once loved was taken. My father was an awkwardly humorous type. He easily adapted to his surroundings unlike me. I suppose he was used to running from the law, as it was an ongoing occurrence. Unfortunately, my life would forever change once I realized my own father had abducted me.

Indeed in my mind, life was grand…nothing could tear me and my father apart. We took strolls together, fished, visited the zoo, and he bribed me with toys in order to keep me happy. I even got to spend a whole summer with my Aunt’s in Disney Land. Again, very faint memories, but they were the few good memories I held onto. I never even thought twice about the reason’s why my father had abducted me…Perhaps another time I would find the answers.

Good night Diary~

 

 

 

 

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