When I was 10 going on 11 my mom went into rehab to try to get herself clean and sober. We were all happy about that. My dad seemed to be happy about everything except for the fact that she would be gone from him for more than 30 days. Afraid she might find someone that might treat her better than he did. Well, she did. Or, so she thought. She didn't tell us though. Not at the time. She continued a relationship with this man through the entirety of her stay at the drug rehab center. My dad would get my brother and I in the middle of the night in the car to go stalk on the rehab facility to see them coming out in the middle of the morning. At 5 A.M. to be exact. To see if they were coming out of the same room. They wouldn't let them bunk together of course but when they would come out together they would hold hands. When my dad saw this he fell apart. This woman he claimed to love had fell in love with someone else. I think the part that made him angry was the fact that instead of it being a white man it was a black man. He was furious. I remember us driving home in complete silence. When we got home my brother and I sat on the couch just waiting to see what was going to happen. My dad grabbed his gun and walked around with it for a few minutes and then went back and put it in the gun cabinet. He then put his head through the wall and screamed.
A few weeks later my mom got out of rehab and informed my dad she was leaving him and taking us with her. I was happy, of course. Never been so happy in my life. Although, I didn't know this new man in her life I knew he couldn't be any worse than our dad. Wrong. Well, I guess he wasn't worse. But, he was no better either. He ended up on the streets again. He was a crack user and why he was in rehab in the first place.
Anyway, we lived in a really nice home. Had the best things money could buy, went to the nicest school in Amory, MS. My dad ended up finding us. He threatened to blow our house up with a stick of dynamite he had hidden behind the cab of his truck and he cut the lines of out electrical outlet. We called the cops. Well, our mom did. The cops came and nothing ever came of it. Our dad ran of course and we didn't hear from him for a while.
Right after that the guy we were living with was busted for crack cocaine and our mother had to find us a house to live in. It was one bedroom blue house. It was so tiny. We could barely fit in it. When he got out of jail he came to live with us. He was mean. I remember one day my brother and I got into an argument over nothing like kids do and he beat my brother with a switch till he had blood running down his legs. About 12, my brother was. Another time my brother was helping my mom make the bed and he accidentally knocked over a whole red solo cup of cigarette ashes. Yes, ashes. We all know what that is for. He was on crack again.
Soon after he was caught again and we had to go live with his dad, brother, sister, her husband and two kids. I loved his sister. She brought my brother and I a half frozen capri sun every night before we went to sleep. We ended up having to share a room with the brother which was in his late 40's I would say and they would always shut the door. He would come to bed later and shut the door behind him. Well, one night my brother went to spend the night with a friend he had made at our new school. The brother we bunked in the room with waited until the wee hours of the morning and he started to touch me and molest me. I felt him touching me all over yet I was paralyzed. I couldn't move. I couldn't open my eyes. I couldn't scream for help. I didn't know what to do. I had been in many situations of abuse but I had never been in a situation like this. He felt down my thighs and on my tiny 11 year old breasts. He touched my vagina all over and my butt. This must have went on for hours and I lay stiff as board and paralyzed. Acted as though I was asleep the entire time. I remember hearing footsteps coming up the hallway and him running back to his bed and covering up. I was still laying in bed acting as though I was asleep. It was my mom coming in the room to wake me up for school. She shook me a few times. I finally got up, she said come eat breakfast and get ready for school. I did so and never mentioned this until about a hear ago. I never went into detail until this moment right now.
My brother blames himself. He was only 12 at the time. He thinks he should of been a better protector of me. He should not blame himself. He didn't do it. He was kid. What more could he have done. If the guy was going to do it he would have found a way either way. I love you Charlie and there is no way in this world there could have been anything you could have done to do anything about this. I am stronger because of this. I have to fight my demons because of it but he has not won. I do not own this anymore. He does. He owns it!