It all started a long time ago...

She was a quiet girl, but filled with rage. She had been birthed by a woman with no feelings, no morals and a lack of maternal instincts. The mother also dated a certain type of man. Most women are attracted to a certain trait, and the mother of this girl was no different. The mother preferred pedophiles. She liked them so much, that to this day she still lives with one.


The girl lived in a haze. The mother would hit the girl with anything available. Sometimes this would mean the girl would be hit with shoes. Sometimes the girl was hit with flyswatters, but the girl was always hit. The girl longed for the mother in a way in which little girls do. The girl would crawl up in the mothers lap only to be told to get off. The girl was not hugged. She was not needed or wanted. Nothing in her life would ever change that.


The girl was very young when the mother brought strange men home. She slept with the mother at nights, and during the night she would lay in bed asleep and stick her leg out to feel for the warmth of the mother's skin. Most of the time it would not be found. This one particular habit would stay with her well into her adulthood.


The mother would always enjoy the company of men to the company of children, of which she had three. One 13 years older than the girl, and one 8 years older than the girl. Further proof the girl was a mistake. 8 took much joy in beating the dignity out of the girl. One of the stories that used to be told in an endearing way involved how 8 dumped the girl in the middle of a bust street to try to kill her. The girl was a baby at this point without any memory of the incident, but the laughter that went along with the story will never leave her.

The girl was taught to fend for herself. The mother taught the girl to make microwave eggs, and a few other microwave things so that the girl could eat when the mother was not around. The mother always had a reason she couldn't be around, but most of them involved men, and all of them involved selfishness. The girl struggled through life on her own, and tried to hide it the best she could.

It was not rare that the mother would take the girl to another man's house, as they got "married".While the girl would later not be able to recall most of these events, there was most likely someone present in her place to keep her safe. Someone in her mind that was strong enough to handle it. At this point, 13 and 8 were living with the girls dad. The men that the girl remembers were somehow important in how she came to be the way she is. One man, was at least 30 years the mother's senior and was a hoarder of milk crates. He took the mother and the girl to scary churches. These churches would wash your feet, and speak in tongues. While one part of the girl was frightened about this; another enjoyed the spectacle of it all. It was almost like the circus. This man's name was William, and he is surely dead at this point. This is all that the girl remembers about him.

Then, there was the one that the mother kept returning to. He is the one who always wore white tank undershirts and boxers. He smelled like filth, cigarettes and staleness. His white shirts permanently grayed and rusted looking. His slippers were black. He coughed a lot. The girl remembers getting burns by cigarettes from him. His name was Pat, and the girl knows he molested her. She also knows that if he were molesting her, that the mother would know. She had to, and she did not care.



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