7. The Lord's Prayer

There is no God in my life. I learned to disconnect all physical pain, for is mother struck me it would be as if she was taking it out on a rag doll. My emotions were from fear and intense anger. For as if I cried at which I would not it would give mother the satisfaction of defeat. My soul I became to hate just about everything. I still was starved. Most of all mother was the reason of all hate and misfortune the reason to all hate and dread as I wish she were dead. Before she is dead I want her to I feel my magnitude of pain and loneliness. I would pray to god, for him to answer my prayers; at which he has only answered one. Mother began to turn me against my father. Which made me feel as if I were a trader? I began to hate my father and my brothers all of them but, my baby brother Kevin who made me feel warm. I had some lifting experiences, but mother ruined them and put me back down. I began to give up I became rebellious. I knew there was no escape so all I could do was pray. So that’s what I did…

6. While father is Away

After my knife incident father spent less time at home and more time at work. After all that I had been through and felt as if father had given up on me, his is still my protector. Mother would only abuse about half the amount as if father were gone. It became a habit for father to help me with the dishes; father washed and I dried. We would have small conversations at a tone at which mother nor could my brothers hear. Father always promised that me and him both would get out of my mothers madhouse, I felt it was my fault that he was still here. Mother finally put an end to father helping me with the dishes. She claimed that he gave too much attention to me and not others in the family, father gave in as usual. The witch had full control of the entire household. Father now stayed away, and he only came home for a small amount of time. Father began to change he would come home drunk, with black circles under his eyes. Mother’s anger would be directed to me. My punishments became worse than ever. I began to act out.Mother had a friend named Shirley, I’m guessing she suspected my abuse and called it in. Mom was under investigation. The social worker questioned me and I answered what mother had told me to say, and what I been saying for many years; I must of said something wrong. Mother cursed and insulted me intensely. I would find myself mesmerizing about father, soon I come to conclusion that he is truly gone; maybe forever.

5. The Accident

I am almost eleven but not yet. It was the summer before my birthday that I realized that I knew what to expect of my punishments. I soon came to realize that I couldn’t look at my brothers without permission from my mother, if I was caught I was slapped in my face. If I stole, mother would think of one of her old punishments or maybe a new one. Since it is summer I average about a day’s meal every three days. At dinner mother makes me sit on my hands on the basement stairs. I sit there imagining that I am “the family” eating dinner at the table. I began to dose off, but I tried to stay up. Mother called me to clean up dinner dishes as I snapped out of my trans daze. Mother had called me over to her and began to yell at me. She ordered me to do the dishes in a time limit at which she had wasted or she was going to kill me. Well, she was lying she tried but didn’t succeed she stabbed me. At that moment I thought my life had ended. I had drifted in and out of consciousness. The pain was so intense, it was doweling. After mother had treated me with her nursing skills she ordered me again to do the dishes in another time limit. The pain was still so tense. Father was in the living room reading a newspaper when I finally made my way in the living room to tell him what mother had done. I finally made it into the living room with the pain being so intense I realized how to pace myself; I told father that mother stabbed me. Father show no emotion he only asked “Why?” I had explained my situation to him. He just ordered me back into the kitchen to do my chore. The respect I had for my father had vanished. After a few minutes of suffrage in kitchen in pain father came to help me. My time limit had past. Mother cared for my wound until about the third day, it became infected. She had some what of sympathy for me she allowed me to eat and play outside with my brothers around the 4th of July. The affection mother showed for my wound wore off; I was caring for my own wound. Why? Because I didn’t need her I can survive on my own, and that she could only beat me and I’m not giving in only to death. That I AM SUPERMAN.

4. The Fight for Food

After the burning incident I have learned to love school, it was my only escape from mother. Food was still a struggle. I had to finish all my chores before leaving to school. When finished with chores I would be rewarded with my brother’s leftovers from their morning cereal. Nights were the worst of my hunger, since I didn’t receive any dinner. At school I would still food from my classmate’s lunchboxes just before school would start. Thing started to get suspicious about missing food from lunchboxes. I got caught. Mother was called and my punishment was for me to starve, especially on the weekend’s mother wouldn’t feed me at all. My father would help at times by sneaking me a piece of bread or two to the basement for me to eat. Arguments between mother and father became more frequent. Father’s attempts to help me began to decrease. Mother got pregnant with my fourth brother and my teacher Ms. Moss took most interest in me. Ms. Moss report mother to principal about child abuse, they had a meeting mother put on her charm and convinced that everything was okay. Mother figured since I was so Hungary to steal food she would give me something to eat. She wanted me to baby poo. I would not so she smeared it in my face. I still made attempts to eat I. figure I would still from the other first grade kids lunch boxes still no success. Got caught, mother came up with vomit inspections. Then, I figured and made calculations that I would run to the grocery and steals some food, still no success. Finally, I figured I would time the delivery of the frozen food at school truck with a restroom break and steal some food, a success. Still mother had a few more tricks to put up her sleeve, like swallowing ammonia or Clorox maybe even soap. Once again I was learning how to play this trickster’s game.

3. Bad Boy

My relationship with mother dramatically changed. My discipline turned into harsh punishment. I grew very afraid of my mother and her dramatic change. When father was away mother would just lye on the couch, there was no more trips and sceneries to learn about. Mother’s punishments were harsh really harsh. She has convinced me to believe that I am a “bad boy” from her mirror treatment. My brothers would walk past the place at which there was a mirror. There I was standing there staring into my own eyes and watching my surroundings. I would ask myself my why my brothers had done this. My brothers were only trying to save themselves that is why they wouldn’t have any acknowledgement in me. Mother was a cub den mother for awhile and she treated those boys as king’s, that didn’t last long mother, gave up her den mother position to another mother. Obviously she wouldn’t let me attend she had something else planned. While brothers were at there cub meeting mother had plans for me. She brought to my attention that she had read about a mother who burned her son on the stove. From this I knew mother had one of her plans. She has thought of another way to ruin my life. Mother attempted to burn me alive. I have realized how to live with her theories of punishment. I have learned to live. I have learned that I can survive this. And I will.

2. Good Times

The year before my I was abused, my family was like the “Brady Bunch” perfect family. My father supports the family because he was a firefighter, and my mother would stay at home. She would take to the nicest places that we could have fun or learn something about the scenery. Father would rarely come home because of his job, when he would it would be late. Mother would decorate for every holiday. She used to give us lessons over just about anything. Those days were the picture perfect life that I had ever had in the years before I became abused.

1. The Rescue

It was March the 5Th, 1973 in Dale City, California. I had to finish my chores in order to receive breakfast. In the amount of time of mother yelling at my brother's, and then finally coming to check on me. I had been smacked around a few times before finishing my chores. As I finally finished my chores I was rewarded breakfast; leftovers from my brother's breakfast. Mother would take me to school or I would walk. Being late as always I would hate going to school for the fact that I would get made fun of, but I also loved going to school at the same time. This was because I would have a break from mother and her problems. When I would arrive at school I would be sent to the office for being late. Then I would be sent to the nurse’s office for my every day body exam. To see if I had any new abuse/"accidental" marks. Until one day I accidentally spilled and told on mother. I was then questioned by the principal than a police officer, who had removed me from school and took me to the police office. At which the officer phoned my mother and told her that I will not be returning home, that I will be staying at the juvenile. If she had any questions to call the juvenile. The officer and I had left the station. I realized we were on the highway. During our drive the officer began to explain to me that I was free now. I didn't understand what that meant. UNTIL..............