Christmas

My favorite holiday is Christmas. Growing up I use to love seeing Christmas lights,trees, Santa, anything that came with Christmas. When we would go to my aunt's house I would sneak over to her tree to look at the names on the presents just in case my name was on one. Of course it wasn't, but I always hoped. I was never allowed to watch X-mas cartoons or programs, because it was against the J.W. religion. Oh how I begged to watch them knowing my answer would be the same,NO, but I didn't care I had to ask. I can remember asking my mom why we didn't celebrate Christmas, and she would tell me Jesus wasn't born on that day. She would also tell me that J.W's don't see him as a baby, but as a king. Then she would say that we don't have to wait for Christmas to give presents, we can give presents anytime. Those times never came, I cant remember not even one gift coming my way for any occasion. The only thing I hated about X-mas was seeing my class mates come to school with their new everything coat, clothes, shoes, and here I was jealous of them because all I had were my second hand or hand me down coat, clothes, and shoes. I didn't even have a friend that would share her toys with me like all the other girls in my class. I felt alone, I was alone.

My Brother

When my dad would be drinking or was away from home my mom would visit the neighbor lady, and stay there for hours to pass the time away. One night as my mom was visiting I was playing in the front yard when my older brother came over. While he was there he spotted some red ants (the bigs red ants) and followed them back to there ant hill. He then proceeded to do the cruelest thing ever. He threw me down on top of the ants, and held me there. I was screamiong for him to let me go, but he just laughed, and thought it was funny that I was being bitten by the ants. There was so much pain, that my screams probably matched what I was feeling. When my mom finally got to me she was horrified to see me. My little body was covered with ants, there was so many ants on me that she ran me inside the nieghbors house, and put me in the bath tub clothes an all. I was in so much pain that all I could is cry while she poured water on me to get the ants off my body. As I stood there crying I could see my brother laughing he didn't feel any remorse for what he had done to me, and I never got am I'm sorry from him. My brother was not a very nice person, he was into things like hurting animals and playing jokes on people that were only funny to him. This is sad but very true, he was not a good brother,son, or father, and every memory that I have of my brother is a bad one.

Sixth Grade

By the time I got to sixth grade I had learned that I needed to be tough, and not show weakness. At school I had this alter ego where I would cuss as good as any drunken sailor, and was so mean I could spit nails. There was this boy who would call me a Jehovy just to be mean, but he was the wrong person to say anything to me, because he had a red birth mark that covered half his face, but it was taboo say anything about it. I didn't care, and to get back at him for calling me a name I would shout back tomato face, and no ones going to love you with that huge red mark on your face. I also treated our new music teacher very badly. On her first day I was dared to stick a tack on her seat which I accepted. I snuck over to her seat when she wasn't watching, and placed a tack on her chair. By the time I got back to my desk the whole class room knew what was going on, and eagerly awaited for the teacher to sit on her chair. When she finally sat down she popped up so fast that the whole class started laughing including me. She knew it was one of us, but never even acknowledged the incident. This teacher had a lot of class, and dignity. After the tack incident I felt really bad. I wish I could say I turned over a new leaf, but I didn't. Soon after we moved, and I had to go to a new school. This was my chance to start over. I started being me no matter the cost.

My First Memory

You know, I am sure that my uncle sexually abused me prior to my first memory of it. It probably started when I was just a baby. It stands to reason that he would start that early, he was a child predator, and babies can't talk. I guess that doesn't really matter because when I could talk I didn't say anything, I was too scared. That's how pathetic my life was back then. My first memory of the abuse happened one day my uncle came over to see my dad, but I don't remember knowing where he was. He always had a way of knowing when my parents weren't home. That day he asked me to go look out back, not hesitating I went looking for my dad. On my way back he stop me at the back door, and asked me if I wanted some candy I eagerly said yes. He then told me he need a tool, and for me to show him where my dad kept them, once there he would give me some candy. I believed and trusted him, and so I went with him. Once we got to the shed he turned around to look at me I thought he was coming in for a hug, but I was wrong instead of a hug he put his hands down my pants and fondled me. This is where I should run, run for my life, scream, kick, punch something anything to get away, but I did nothing I stood there too scared to move. Once he was finished he acted as if nothing happened, but I knew what he had done was wrong. That day he took my innocence. Every time after that the sexual abuse just got worse, and every time I did nothing. I can only take comfort in the fact that he's still in prison after 23 years. All he is now is a pathetic old man who will die alone.

My Pet Rabbits

Growing up we never had pets of any kind. My dad said that dogs were too dirty, and cats were out of the question. One day to our amazement my dad brought home three rabbits. I can't tell you how excited we were. I can't speak for my siblings, but I just fell in love with them. My dad gave me permission to feed them, and keep there cage clean, needless to say I would spend hours playing, and talking to the rabbits. They brought happiness and joy to my miserable little life. One day while eating dinner my dad asked us kids if we liked what we were eating, of course we all said yes. Right then my dad started laughing as he told us that it was rabbit we were eating. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Could this be true, would my dad really kill the animals I had fallen in love with? He then told us if we didn't believe him go outside and take a look for ourselves. I ran outside, and was horrified when I saw two headless, little animals hanging on our clothes line. They didn't have any fur, so I wasn't sure if they were my rabbits, but once I got to the cage, and it was empty I knew that my dad had killed them. Those rabbits were the closest things to pets I ever had. I don't understand how my dad could do that to us or for that matter laugh about it. I do know this he waited for us to start eating before he told us what it was. I can still picture those poor little rabbits hanging on the clothes line with no heads.

Drawing Contest

In another one of my attempts to make friends I did something shameful. The library at my school was having a drawing contest K-8. Each grade was to have a 1st, 2ND, and 3rd place winner. I was determined to be the fifth grade 1st place winner, but there was one person standing in my way, Laura. She was the most talented girl in the fifth grade, and there was no way I could compete with her. I don't remember what she drew, but I definitely remember what I drew. It was a picture of Sacajawea the Indian girl, it was picture perfect. The only reason it was picture perfect was because I traced almost the whole thing. When finished the drawings were to be turned into the Liberian, and only she would know who they belong too. The kids then went around picking there favorite. Shamelessly I won first place. At first I was so proud of myself, I took the blue ribbon home and showed my parents. They were not impressed, but then again they never were. They were the type of parents that didn't care about grades or important things like that. Oh well it didn't matter, I hadn't earned that blue ribbon anyways. and I felt horrible about it. As horrible as I felt I wasn't going to confess to what I had done, it would have to be one more thing to add to my list of things I was praying for forgiveness for. It was also another thing I would keep to myself til now.

School Friends

I never had school friends that I would do things with, because I was always the odd man out. Being a J.W. we were not allowed to associate with the world(anybody who is not a J.W) unless absolutely necessary, so talking and playing at school was as far as that went. Thing is we couldn't play with J.W kids either,because their parents knew my dad was a drunk, and there was NO WAY they were going to let there kids come over. So in an attempt to make friends I stole a five dollar food stamp from my moms purse. I knew that some of my school mates would go home for lunch, and then stop at circle k to buy candy on their way back to school. I told them they could buy whatever they wanted, when they got back they had big bags of Doritos, Bubble Yum gum, and so much candy it was even funny. Back then five dollars was like a hundred dollars, so there was tons of junk food. How in the world could I go home with so much stuff left over. One, I thought for sure my parents were going to find out there was a five dollar food stamp missing, and for two my parents would ask where I got all this junk food from. So in a panic I started flushing Doritos's down the toilet(why I just didn't throw it all in the trash is beyond me)Did this stunt get me friends? No. I will tell you what it did give me a guilty conscious, and one more thing to add to my list of things I would pray for forgiveness for.