When my mom was released from jail she just kind of disappeared. I had heard she went to Texas but... we didn't know anyone in Texas.
The school year ended and we had no choice but to move back in with Dad. My best friend's dad tried to get custody of me. He even talked to my dad about it. But he wouldn't have it.
I was furious with my mother for leaving me with him. I felt like I was the only one she should have been responsible for! My sister was 18 and my brothers were going back to their dad's houses! We had talked about getting a little apartment just the 2 of us... I really did not want to switch schools.
Moving in with him the summer before my Freshman year of High School SUCKED! My step-brother and I were in the same grade, and he was back at his old school- with some kids I had gone to school with when I lived there. But I didn't really feel like I fit in. I missed my old friends.
I didn't start to enjoy any part of my new school until I got sucked into the Theater program. It became my 2nd home. My fellow Thespians became my family. I did every production my High School offered from the 2nd semester of 9th grade thru the end of 11th grade. Without Theater, I would not have made it through High School.
I always wore long sleeves. Always. I tried to explain it away as a fashion statement- I would wear scarves that matched and layer my clothing. It almost became a trend with my friends- everyone began doing it! People would take my scarf of the day in the hallway and pass it around and I would always get it back at the end of the day in last period Drama class.
It took a while for people to pick up on the fact the long sleeves were hiding evidence. Three of the greatest people I will ever know took it upon themselves to go talk to our Director about it. At the time, I was furious! HOW COULD THEY? My Director pulled me into her office and asked me to pull up my sleeves. When I refused she said she would have to make an anonymous tip to Child Protective Services if I didn't reassure her I was alright. I tried. I told her I was fine and there was nothing to worry about.
'I taught you how to act, do you really think you can fool me?'
I was called to the office the next afternoon for an interview with Child Protective Services. Thankfully she didn't make me pull up my sleeves and I lied through my teeth to get out of it. But they had already called my dad to 'check in'.
I spent that weekend locked in the bathroom.
Home life between 2004-2006 was unbearable. I did everything I could to stay out. I was in every play, club and committee possible. I volunteered at every event and went to every game. I got to school an hour early and was rarely home before dark. Weekends were spent with friends, activities or spent at Nana's. I was always on the Honor Roll and had perfect attendance- I'm not sure bleeding from my eye balls would have kept me home with my father.
At the beginning of my Junior year I also started going to church, mainly because it took up some more time. I went every Wednesday night and all day Sunday. I soon started spending weekends with the friend that invited me to church to begin with with- she was my ride to everything. Her parents quickly figured out there was something not right at home. They spent as much time as they could letting me know I was welcome and loved in their home. They will NEVER know how much I truly appreciated that- still to this day their love and support means so much to me.
My dad probably worked a total of 3 months the 2.5 yrs I lived with him in High School. I remember one evening getting home from a club meeting and he was clearly wasted, stumbling to make himself another drink. He beckoned me to help him and ended up ranting until he passed out about how he was supposed to start work that morning but got stuck in traffic and fired. He was pitiful.
Around Halloween of 11th grade, my step-brother got expelled. He was trying to sell weed in school and got caught. But wait, there's more. HE WAS TRYING TO SELL FAKE WEED! And got caught because the kid he sold it to was mad he got ripped off! My parents made him get his GED and a job, which he did. But soon kicked him out for wanting too much independence.
After my brother left, life became... HELL. My father was unbelievable! He became a control freak. He would pick out my clothes before I left the house, constantly calling me a slut and warning me not to get pregnant. I did not own a pair of shorts or even a skirt. I RARELY wore short sleeves. I wore very light make up, unless during a show- which he let me know looked awful. He would come to my shows just to tell me how horrible they were. These were High School plays and he wasn't happy with the range of our lead male vocalist! He showed up drunk and embarrassed me every time.
Right before Thanksgiving of 11th grade, I reached my breaking point. That Sunday we had an awesome service at church. The power of God fell in a way I had never felt before... nor since. My friends mom pulled me aside to pray with me and I felt God speak to me. At one point, maybe even without realizing it, she prayed, "Lord I pray you protect this girl and stop whoever is hurting her... before it's too late." They could tell it was getting worse- and it was getting uncontrollable. It wasn't just fun and games anymore, my father was trying to hurt me.
The next day I went home after school. It was a very rare day that I did not have something going on, and after the long weekend I was hoping to take a nap. My dad was drunk. I knew it was going to be a long night from the second I walked in. But I heard my friends mothers voice in my head ".. before it's too late .." I made a promise to myself right then and there that man would never hit me again.
Soon he began to scream at me about something I couldn't even tell you if my life depended on it. Within seconds he was flying across the house at me. I jumped up and screamed, "NO MORE!" so fast it startled him back into his seat. By the time he realized what was happening I was out the back door and down the block. He tried yelling after me, but I would never return to that house again.
I ran across the busy street with no shoes or coat the week before Thanksgiving. Thankfully I had change from lunch in my pocket and I called my friend from church. She and her mom came to pick me up. I was terrified. I didn't know what to do. They reassured me I wouldn't have to go back to him, but I had heard that before. This time... they were right.
Somehow they convinced my dad to let me stay with them. At the end of the week, I think I had my 1st nervous breakdown. I cried and slept for 3 days straight. But when I woke up... the world was a bright new place. I could do whatever I wanted. I let the bruises heal and didn't wear long sleeves again for several years.
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