untold stories

 Wednesday, August 01, 2007

untold stories 

07/31/07 

When I was a little girl

I used to dance

I played with my friends

After school

When I was a little girl

I used to dance

I read lots of books

In a cherry tree

When I was a little girl

I used to dance

I spoke to the trees

And to the plants

When I was a little girl

I used to dance

Then one 

Day

It.

All.

Changed.

We left my step-dad.

And my life became worse than it had ever been.

I came home from school

One afternoon

Found my mother upstairs

Almost dead

I was frightened and scared

And no adult was there

I called to the bar

For my step-dad

I loved him, and he was good to me.

I missed him, I never wanted to leave him, and my mother made me leave with her.

He came big and strong

To help with my mom

An ambulance came

She was gone

My world it turned black

No light entered in

I started to forget how to

Dance with my friends

The memories are gone

No reminder remaining

But a hole in my heart

Was unfilled

My life was unsure

And safety was none

And so came the start of

My song

A man she met

And moved us in

Four weeks later his wrath

We endured

I think I was outside

Watching from inside

He smashed on the walls

Of our home

Frightened and scared

With no place to run

My new home life

Had begun

He had a big dog

Black, with trusting brown eyes

Two feet tall

With long ears

He fed him a beer

Held his head to pour it in

The big beautiful dog

Fell down

The man laughed so hard

Thought it humour and fun

My heart broke inside

For the dog

A few weeks later

I was sleeping on the floor

My mom and that man

Down the hall

Tiger was his name

And sex was his game

He found me sleeping

There

I was very young

And he was twice my age

Fifteen feet away

No one cared

I learned to drink

And to do drugs at home

Believing they were the right

Things to do

Violence was normal

Safety was none

And no one watched out

For me

I cut my hand open

Blood running down

Went into the house

For some help

Company was over

The party going strong

And nobody noticed

Me bleed

One night he was angry

And smashed a car window with wood

Trying to attack my

Mom

I tried to defend her and was

Dragged back in the house and was

Beaten with a coat hanger in a closet by

Their friend

I slept on the floor

With the dirt and the dust

An old blanket was

My bed

He came home one night

And stood over me

Took out his penis

And “peed”

And nobody knew

And nobody cared

For the little girl

Who was me

We found a new town

And an old dirty house

The ceiling was falling

Down

My life it grew worse

And violence was a curse

I was rolled in a ball and

Was thrown

One day he was sweeping

All through the room

I said something rude and

Wore the broom

The fights were so bad

And home was unsafe

I ran in the snow with

No shoes

A man found me cold

And offered a ride

The local drug dealer

He was tough

He got me safe and warm

And wiped away my tears

And was the kindest man who

I met

A fight on the stairs

Lighting was dim

My mother was yelling

At me

I left.

But my body remained.

Three.

Feet.

Away.

And I watched.

And stopped feeling any pain.

After school one day

The man came onto me

Stuck his tongue down my throat

And I don’t know anymore

The time is black

No reminders remain

The story locked deep

Inside me

I cut a hole in my leg with a razor blade to see if I could feel.

I stopped eating my food

And became really thin

Thinking to vanish

Away

I spent days in my bed

Alone with no food

And death entered in and 

Spoke to me

I became unafraid to die.

A drive down the road

I was taken in

But the doctor he never

Rescued me

I stood on the steps

In the falling snow

Watched the man beat his dog

With his boots

Smeared with food on my neck

From a very bad fight

I ran to my friends to

Get away

I saw my friends homes

Peaceful and warm

With no holes in the floor

Underneath

No bruises and blood

No beer and no pot

No cigarettes

No sex

They seemed so safe.

And I knew that there was more

And a better life for me

So I asked to be taken

Away

And they took me.

My foster home was okay

In the country I lived

Thinking all was safe for

Awhile

The third time was there

He was twice my age

And nobody rescued

Me

People all around

Yet no one heard

No one came into

The room

And I tried to kill myself.

And was moved to a different house.

Holy Jesus Christ, our Savior he

Will come and he will rescue you

Repent

Repent

Repent

And the lord will come and take you

On judgment day

Repent

Repent.

And they sent me away to

A new place

To make me

“better”

And I grew worse.

And I forgot about dancing

Sex and smoking and

“Jeanie is Crying”

And I built my land of

Cherries

I ran away and wound up with bikers

I ran away and lived on the street

And in the train station

In Toronto

And they locked me up and

Shot me full of sedatives and

They took my clothes 

Away

And left me

Naked

On the

Floor

With a plastic covered

Mattress in a

Cold room with

Steel bars

And steel mesh and

They

Observed

Me

As I ripped the 

Flesh

From my hands

Trying to

Punch.

My.

Way.

Out.

They left me in

The dark

Alone

Terrified

The scars on my hands fade with time.

And this

Was to make

Me

“Better”

Man number four got me there

no one was looking no one watched

And no one knew

At all

He had bright blue eyes

I stopped crying

I hypnotized away the pain

Left my body and went

Far away

And I knew in my heart

I really was

Really and truly was

Alone

And nobody heard and nobody came and nobody rescued me

I learned not to love, not to remember, that nowhere was safe, and 

That sex could buy me a bed so I could sleep in the warmth off the street

Fifteen to eighteen months later

I didn’t go to school

And I didn’t dance with my friends

Anymore

I lost my tree 

I lost the books

I lost the plants

I lost me

I was not a little girl 

Anymore

I was thirteen

Maybe fourteen

My innocence and childhood were gone.

I will wrap my poppet warm tonight. She represents myself, my lost self, my lost dance. She has eyes of lapis lazuli to see the truth, to speak from within. Her mouth is red and she smiles. She is me.

I have candles burning. Blood red for life; blue for the west, for water, for emotion, for healing. Perfumed smoke fills the air to purify and cleanse.

I am whole.

I am here.

I am alive.

I am not afraid to live.

And I am not afraid to die.

My life is a gift and

I am a lucky woman

To be here

At all

I still cannot cry but the story is out now.

By the age of fifteen, I was sexually assaulted three more times by three other men. Of the seven men, only two were my own age. The other five men were two to four times older than me. My mothers boyfriend most likely sexually assaulted me, he definitely sexually assaulted my sister. He probably masturbated rather than peed on me when I lay curled up on the floor in a blanket. I don’t know how many more sexual assaults there may have been, or how many men gave me a place to sleep in exchange for sex. Because of trading sex, I never had to sleep on the streets although I ran away a lot. The same men also fed me. I think most of those men were in their late teens or early twenties. There are black holes in my memory from thirteen until fifteen, maybe sixteen. I think I lost most of that time.

Late in that time period, my boyfriend’s family reached out for me and I grasped on tight. That is why I am here today. They taught me “home,” they taught me “me.” I will always be thankful more than anyone could ever know. They did not then, and even now, know all these stories. At the time, my boyfriend did not know some of what happened because I could not tell him even though some of that took place when I was with him.

The stories have not been told together until today. I am forty one years old. It has taken me about twenty five years to tell the unspoken complete story of my early teenage years. The stories started with leaving my step-dad, and ended when I was around thirteen to fourteen years old. I don’t remember much violence after that time period. By the age of sixteen, I had my own apartment and there were no more sexual assaults in my life. For the first time in years, I was finally safe.

lou