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by Angela Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Other · Other · #1099575
May contain adult material
My Grandma Mary Shumaker was about five feet two inches tall if I remember correctly. She was of average weight and proportion. She had sandy blond hair that had started to turn gray by the time I was old enough to remember.

I lived with my Mother from the day I was born until I was three years old. I have vauge and fuzzy memories.

I was kidnapped at age four by my Mother's boyfriend. She suspected he was molesting me and tried to get me to tell. He must have either threatened me or told me that my Mommy would hate me because I didn't tell. One day my Mother's worst fears were confirmed. She caught him in the act.

She left him. He kidnapped me although I do not remember how it happened. I can still remember him telling me my Mother was dead. I believed him because I not remember her.

I do remember a lot of hotels and friends of his. We were some place new every week. I also remember sexual abuse,physical abuse, and manipulation. He had me for one whole year.

He was pulled over by the police just as he was about to cross state lines into New Mexico. They found me in the fetal position shaking like a leaf. When one police man tried to pick me up I was so afraid that I actually bit him.

I was placed in some kind of group facility for young children until my Grandma Flew to New Mexico from Ohio. By that time I had already had my fifth bithday. My Mother signed temporary custody papers so my Grandma could have me until my Mother was back on her feet.

My Grandma used to take us strawberry picking every summer. She often used the strawberries to make her home made strawberry jam. One of my favorites!! She also loved to make home made bananna nut bread. I couldn't get enough.

I remember how she used to take me to Lake Milton, also known as Craig Beach to go swimming. She always kept a watchful eye on me, especially after I was overcome by a large wave and nearly drowned. She pulled me out of the water and started cpr. It saved my life. I was only nine years old.

I was thirteen by the time my Mother regained custody of me. things went down hill from there. Things were great for a couple of months, but then My mother began hiting me and causing my nose to bleed.

I began calling her these God-awful names. By the time I was fourteen I had been arested twice. Once for being unruley and once for punching my youngest brother in the mouth. They called it Domestic violence. He shouln't have called our Mother a bitch. I didn't want him to follow in my foot steps thats why I punched him.

What was worse was my step dad's brother started raping me when I was fourteen. I told time and time again. Nobody believed me except my stepdad (who was the only father I'd ever known) and my Grandma.

When I was fifteen My mother punched me in the mouth and split my lip with her wedding band. I was sick to death of covering for her and lying to the police just so I could be with my brothers. She hit me hard enough that time that I could not hide the swelling and bruising on my lip with any amount of make up. I was placed in foster care.

six weeks things were great. then my Foster mom began threatning me and yelling at me. She went so far as to hit me a few times. I courled up in the fetal position beside my dresser infront of the closet door to escape into my mind's eye where things were peaceful.

She had the nerve to accuse me of sleeping with her husband and hit me again when I told her she was full of shit. I got fed up and hit her back. I had endured that torture for three months. I would only come out of my room for necessities. I prayed for death at night and cursed every breath I took.

I was put into a second foster home. things were great. I was happy again. Still shy but happy. Then in the third week in that foster home, out of the clear blue sky I was picked up from school by my Looney Tunes case worker and taken to Lincoln Place A semi-locked down residential treatment center for everything from drugs to abuse of all types. This was where I had my sixteenth birthday. No party, no celebration at all.

I was there for two months and I got punched in the eye by another girl my age. I would not fight back I let the staff handle it. one week later I was moved to Children's comprehensive services in mansfield.(Where I was when my Grandma passed away). I stayed for six months. I became close with some of the staff. Once again in my sixth month I was attacked but this time it was three girls.

They pulled my hair and I laughed at them and politely asked them not to do that again because I did not like to be touched. The young ladies whom I will not name call proceeded to stab me in the ribs with pens and pencils, they kicked me multiple times and flipped a desk over on top of me. I was trapped and un able to breathe. I felt like I had a brick on my chest.

Once again I refused to fight back. I let the staff handle those young ladies. A week later I was moved to cleveland and placed in Bellefair. I turned seventeen four months later. In my seventh month I was in another fight.

I would not hit back. I let the staff take the young lady to the ground in a restraint while I hit my knees and prayed for her safety. It was then in the eleventh grade that I recieved My first and only out of school suspension. I was Angry. I was not moved away this time.

I recieved promises of going to Transitional living from a completely locked down unit. The Director continued to push back the date. I was pissed at this point.

Finally in August about a week after having had my tonsils removed because of a cyst,I was moved to the open unit called cottage 13. I would have eventually moved to transitional living but there was a new staff hired in cottage 13 and he gave me the willies.

I spent one and a half years in The Bellefaire program. I turned eightteen in cottage 13 and two months later I ran because I could not tolerate a creepy staff member. I was attacked in the woods that night.

I fractured my left wrist while punching the guy in the nose. the E.R. doctor said I had been raped. I went back for a couple of weeks for my wrist to heal up.

I ran off again (a.w.o.l.= absent with out leave) this time a fourteen year old male companion followed me and I took him under my wing. The police picked us up the next afternoon and took us back to Bellefaire.

I slept until the following morning and I ran a third time. I have not been back. That is how I met my husband. We have been married for almost two months. May 8th will make two months. I am now 19 years old and will be 20 on sept.25th. I still do not have children.
© Copyright 2006 Angela (mrs.ulmer at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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