Tia: Portrait of a Broken Butterfly

As the two adults and four children lingered in the kitchen, no one saw James enter the bedroom he shared with Tangie and take a machete from the chester drawer. Tiptoeing into the kitchen, the people in the room were unaware that within seconds, seven lives would forever be changed. Tia turned and saw the machete in James’ hand. And as she opened her mouth to warn Jalen, the words froze in her throat. Jalen turned, and the ax embedded itself in his forehead, severing his left eye. As he sank to the floor, a thick pool of blood oozed slowly from his wounds, unleashing a carnage of terror. (Excerpt from Tia: Portrait of a Broken Butterfly).

by Peggy Butler

WARNING: The following story is true. The subject wanted her story told in the hope of discouraging all those addicted to drugs or contemplating on using them. This narrative contains adult language and references to sex and violence that may offend some readers. DISCRETION IS ADVISED.


Claxonville, USA---- It’s a muggy Friday night. The first of the month when government checks arrive and inject new life into the city’s fledgling economy. Surprisingly, there is little money to be made tonight on Wexler Avenue and Sycamore Drive. But despite the lack of action, scantily clad prostitutes roam the strip in search of clients. Among the desperadoes seeking consolation in the arms of strangers this night, is a 34-year-old hooker and addict affectionately known as “Dirty Tia.”

Humble Beginnings

Tia Montgomery never proved herself to be an overly confident person. But there was nothing in her prosaic make-up to ever suggest the drug and alcoholic nightmare she would create out of her life in the spring of 2001. Up until that time, Tia was the proud mom of four kids, gainfully employed and very content, then disaster struck.

Jalen her boyfriend of seven years was becoming more abusive. At night, neighbors were awakened to the screams of domestic disputes. Moreover, Jalen wasn’t working and relied on Tia to support his drug habit. The $700 monthly paycheck from her job as a dishwasher at a local restaurant barely covered the expenses. However, Tia made sacrifices to sustain Jalen’s cocaine addiction. Then the bills started piling up. Not surprisingly, the landlord made daily trips to the apartment in search of rent, where he was met at the door by Jalen incoherently screaming, “Get out of my face you old bastard, we’ll pay ya next week.” But next week never came. Three weeks later the couple was evicted.

Broke and embarrassed; Tia, Jalen and the four kids moved in with her mom. Unfortunately this proved to be a huge mistake, since the two women were at odds with each other. Tangie Montgomery was a habitual drunk, who had been at the core of her daughter’s problems for years. Her ex-husband, Tia's father, was also an alcoholic as was Tangie’s current live in lover James. Like her daughter, Tangie had a habit of choosing men with chronic substance dependency. This explained why Tia found James cold and abusive. She was also aware that he had smacked her mom a few times, now she feared James would take out his anger on her children. “He was always threatening them,” Tia recalls. “Always cursing. Always accusing them of something. So I suspected he wanted to abuse them like he did my mom.”

Tia’s suspicions were confirmed when her oldest son, Isaac, told her that James had threatened to “beat him.” Determined to avoid a confrontation, the nervous woman made plans to leave her mother’s house immediately. Filled with rage, she reached into the closet and began throwing clothes into a suitcase. Ten minutes after packing, Tia looked down at the floor and began crying. Then reality sank in as she realized that she had no money and no where to go. Within the blink of an eye she watched her dreams vanished. It was at this point that Tia began relying on alcohol to cope with life’s daily rigors.

Tia's day began at 7 a.m., with a cup of MD 20/20 (a.k.a. Mad Dog, a cheap wine designed to give the taster a quick buzz). By noon she had drained the last sip of wine from the bottle. Later, she guzzled down a volatile combination of gin and vodka. Tia’s drunken sprees lasted for days. During this period of heavy alcohol consumption, she began neglecting her children and the Department of Health and Human Services was called in. Officials at HHS warned Tia that if she didn’t stop drinking her kids would be taken away. Tia’s children were her greatest treasures, and the thought of losing them forced her to seek help. Torn between getting help or losing her kids, Tia made a call to the Timberidge Health Center.

Located on 20 plush acres, Timberidge specializes in substance abuse, alcohol dependency, general psychiatry and adolescent behavioral problems. Six days later on the advice of a counselor Tia was admitted to the center.

With the help of experts Tia began the long road to recovery. However, the transformation would not be easy. During her first week at the center, Tia berated herself for being weak. And to the staff’s dismay, she demolished two chairs. After her tirade, Tia looked around the room, saw the mess she had created and began crying uncontrollably. A mental health technician passing by her door heard Tia’s cries and rushed into the room. Peering at the broken furniture, the man walked over to where Tia sat and gently touched her shoulder. “It’s okay Ms. Montgomery,” he assured her. “Everything is going to be okay.” And he was right. Tia remained at Timberidge for 30 days. And when she was released her craving for alcohol was completely gone. Tia’s recovery was so impressive; it prompted Tangie to stop drinking. Everything was coming up roses. Not only was Tia getting her life together, so was her mother. Over the next two months Tia was happier than she had been in years. And although Jalen still used cocaine, he was no longer abusive. But the good news is that she had received a job offer as an administrative assistant with a great salary and plenty of incentives. Everything was going great. Then three weeks before Labor Day Tia's world came crashing down.

The Nervous Breakdown

On the morning of August 10, 2001, Tia awaken with the sun shining in her face. Staring out the window, she realized this was the day she began her new job. Trotting out of the bedroom and into the shower, Tia was unaware that James and Jalen were in the house. The two men had argued the previous night over money Tia’s aunt had given her for her 32nd birthday. Stretching her arms above her head, she listened as each man threatened to kill the other. “You and Tia owe us money for rent, “ said James, his voice rising in anger. “Well, Tia’s aunt gave her that money and you’re not getting one goddamn cent,” screamed Jalen. After more cursing, Tia heard the door slam and resumed her shower.

With the water lapping hungrily at her body, Tia didn’t give the argument a second thought. She had heard it all before, and simply dismissed the quarrel as the ranting of two weaklings, unable to cope with reality. Emerging from the bathroom wrapped only in a towel, Tia didn’t notice James standing in front of her. Screaming, he began making threats and moved toward the visibly frightened woman. “I’m going to kill you bitch,” he snarled. Jalen who had been sitting outside heard the commotion and rushed in. The sound also roused the kids, who came running into the kitchen and staring at the three adults.

James told the couple that he was going to the store, and when he returned he wanted them gone. Tia panicked. However, Jalen, in a voice that was surprisingly calm, told James they would comply with his wishes. Having made his point, James, who had been on a three-day binge, quietly left the room.

As the two adults and four children lingered in the kitchen, no one saw James enter the bedroom he shared with Tangie and take a machete from the chester drawer. Tiptoeing into the kitchen, the people in the room were unaware that within seconds, seven lives would forever be changed. Tia turned and saw the machete in James’ hand. And as she opened her mouth to warn Jalen, the words froze in her throat. Jalen turned, and the ax embedded itself in his forehead, severing his left eye. As he sank to the floor, a thick pool of blood oozed slowly from his wounds, unleashing a carnage of terror.

Tangie, upon hearing the commotion came rushing in. Screaming, she knelt down and examined Jalen who was moaning loudly. Reaching for the phone she dialed 911. As the blood continued to flow, Tangie realized that Jalen’s wounds were life threatening. Searching for a pulse, she was relieved to find one. Then, as she was removing her hand from Jalen’s wrist, from the corner of her eyes, Tangie spotted a naked Tia staring at the walls. To add even more chaos to the horrific scene, the kids were screaming, “Get up Mama.” Upon further examination Tangie realized that Tia was in shock. Having to deal with a comatose daughter and severely wounded man, may have proven too stressful for the average person, but Tangie managed to sustain her composure. She wrapped Tia in a blanket, calmed the kids down and waited for the ambulance to arrive. Fifteen minutes later Jalen was placed in an ambulance. As for the man who committed the crime. In custody James bragged: “I told that son of a bitch I was going to kill him. And I always keep my promise.” And what about Tia? Three days later she awakened in a room that bore a striking resemblance to the one at Timberidge. After a few minutes Tia realized she was back at the center. But how did she get there? Then the events of the previous days came pouring back and she lapsed into unconsciousness.

During her stay at the center, Tia was diagnosed as manic-depressive and lithium was prescribed. Over the next three weeks and with the help of a counselor, Tia regained her strength and grappled with her problems. Finally, the day came when she was released from Timberidge. Wearing the look of a woman determined to get her life back on track, Tia said good bye to the staff and eagerly awaited the arrival of her mother and kids. It had been nearly a month since Tia had seen her children, and she was anxious to reunite with them.

As Tia closed the lid on her suitcase, she looked up in the doorway and saw her mother. Moving toward the woman whom she both loved and hated, Tia couldn’t help but notice the strange look on her face. And although she tried hard to hide it, Tangie was clearly distraught. With rapid verbosity Tia began interrogating her mother. Through a series of questions she learned that her children were now in the possession of the HHS.

Visibly stunned, Tia learned that following her breakdown, Stella Daniels, her aunt, had been awarded temporary custody of Michael,Tammy, Jason and David. Two weeks later Stella, unable, to handle four children with behavioral problems returned the children. HHS officials reluctant to turn over guardianship to Tangie, based on her history with alcohol, decided that the children were better off in a foster home. Consumed with grief, Tia was convinced that her children were lost forever. She was certain they would never be a family again. But as bad as she felt, Tia was determined to get her kids back. However, as she walked out the door, the 32- year-old woman felt a twinge of hopelessness that had been noticeably absent in her prior stay at Timberidge.

After a month it became clear to Tia that getting her kids back was a task she did not have the stamina or emotional continuance to undertake. And gradually her optimism turned to doom. Then just as quickly as she let go of her kids, Tia’s thoughts turned to Jalen. Luckily, he survived the accident, and was released from the hospital after weeks of intensive therapy. After his release he phoned Tia and the two agreed to meet and determine if they had a future. On the day of their long awaited meeting, Tia told Jalen she was happy that he was “okay”, but admitted she didn’t think they had a future. Moments later the former lovers said goodbye for the last time. Tia gave Jalen a passionate kiss and headed home. Depressed, having lost her children and totally dependant on her mom, Tia began her odyssey into the dangerous world of drugs.

Welcome to Crack

Tia was introduced to crack by her best friend, Lasheika, a drama queen with a penchant for every addiction under the sun. For months Tia drank herself into a stupor. However alcohol gradually lost its effectiveness and she grew more depressed. Then one day there was a knock at the door. It was Lashieka. She told Tia that she had something that would give her a feeling of exhilaration and make her forget all her problems---crack.

At first Tia was reluctant to try it. She watched as Lasheika took a small vial of the substance resembling cracked off pieces of soap and put it into a pipe and ingested it. Fifteen minutes later Tia looked on, as Lasheika sank back into a chair with a look of sheer pleasure across her face. Observing her childhood friend, Tia had reached the point where she didn’t care about anything. Her children were gone, she had no job, no one wanted her, and she felt lost and alone.

Growing more curious with each second, Tia peered at the rock like substance in Lasheika’s hand and reached for it. After a few whiffs, feelings of ecstasy consumed every fiber of her body, creating a sensation she had never felt before. Hoping to continue the euphoria, Tia took four more hits and stumbled into her bedroom where she slept for hours.

With a bitter taste in her mouth, Tia awaken to the sound of a drum pounding in her head. Opening her eyes, the events of the previous night hit her like a ton of bricks. “Goddam,” she muttered, rolling her tongue across her teeth. “Where in the hell is Lasheika when you need her? Stupid bitch.” Reaching for the phone, Tia was interrupted by a knock at the door. Looking at the clock she noted the time, 10:15 a.m. “Now who the hell is this?” she said slurring her words. Tia opened the door and there stood Lasheika in all her addicted glory. Dirty clothes, matted hair and a body odor that indicated she hadn’t showered in days. “Girl I should kick your ass. Where in the hell have you been?” Tia asked, her voice filled with irritation.
Judging from Tia’s cranky disposition, Lasheika knew that her friend was anxious for another hit. “Honey, calm down. I got just what you need,” said Lasheika, removing a small bag from her purse. Grinning like children, the two women spent the next two hours smoking crack. At Lasheika’s suggestion, Tia decided to let herself go and let the crack do its job. “Hey girl don’t get hooked on that stuff,” mumbled Lasheika. “Don’t worry about that,” Tia said firmly. “I’ve got everything under control.” But she was wrong. Tia didn’t have anything under control, not even herself.

In the beginning Tia wasn’t concerned about maintaining her habit; it was free and readily available. But after four months her once a week habit escalated into a daily ritual. In between jobs, but thanks to Lasheika’s generosity, she maintained her $40 a day drug habit. However, all that changed when her partner in crime was arrested. Not surprisingly Tia began craving more crack. But was unable to purchase it because of financial discrepancies. One day while rummaging through her wallet, Tia found a quarter and two dimes. Feeling like a leopard trapped in a snare, her urge for crack was so strong she knew what she had to do next- sell her body.

Prostitution

Although she regularly used drugs, Tia still managed to find work occasionally. Finally, the day came when she could no longer maintain any type of employment, no matter how minimal. Ingesting large quantities of crack left her exhausted. She started calling in sick. Tia’s employers grew tired of her antics and fired her. Penniless and unable to purchase crack, she turned to prostitution. In this exclusive interview she described her life as a hooker. For two years Tia maintained she used her mouth and body to bring pleasure to hundreds of men. “I’m what you call a crack whore. I usually had five clients a night. The most I’ve ever gotten from a john was $100, the least was $5. My typical customer was White, 30-35, married, with an annual income of $35,000. There are distinguishable differences between White men and Black men. White tricks pay better and they don’t take all night to do their thing. Whereas, Black men pull out five dollars and think that gives them the right to screw you into submission.” She further noted “Most guys want two things, oral sex and straight intercourse. I’m not into that freaky crap. But if I have to, I’ll do whatever they want. Because when you’re a crack whore you don’t care what you do as long as you get paid. I've had sex with some disgusting men, real pigs," she said turning up her nose. "The worst clients are guys with personal hygiene problems. They have bad breath and bad body odor. When they unzip their pants, the stench is so nauseating, it makes you want to throw up. So many people have asked me how can I let these guys touch me. And I tell them that prostitution is a form of suicide. Most of the time I was so high, I didn’t care if my own grandfather had sex with me. You lose all sense of pride and decency.” Tia did stress that all her clients used condoms. “I usually keep my own supply on hand. It’s strange isn’t it? I’ll screw anybody, but I won’t allow them to infect me with syphilis and other sexually transmitted diseases,” she declared stoically.





Near Death

In talking to Tia, she noted that on May 15, 2002, her frequent death wish nearly became a reality. In search of drugs, Tia went to a part of town notorious for selling crack. On her way to the seller’s home, she noticed a group of men standing nearby. One of the men said, “What’s up?" Tia responded, “nothing.” At that point the man said, ”What did you say bitch?” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a gun. Terrified and shaking uncontrollably, Tia saw death staring her in the face.

For years she had committed emotional suicide by indulging in crack, alcohol and prostitution. Now Tia was faced with the real deal, and her survival instincts sprang into action . Falling to her knees, Tia began praying. Unperturbed by the actions of the woman kneeling before him, the man raised his gun and smashed Tia on the back of the head, making a swishing sound. The pain, stinging and agonizingly pulsating caused Tia to black out. When she awakened in the hospital, she learned that the wound to her head required 56 stitches to close.

As Tia lay in the hospital, she realized that she had grown tired of the roller coaster ride and wanted to get off. She was tired of destroying herself. Tumbling out of bed, she stumbled into the bathroom. Turning on the light Tia caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror, and it both saddened and repulsed her. Her hair, flecked with tinges of gray, framed a face that belied her 33 years. Peering closer into the mirror, Tia noticed the wrinkles on her forehead and at the corners of her mouth. Examining her face for more signs of aging, a single tear trickled down her cheek. She was young, yet so old. “Oh god you’re so ugly,” Tia screamed at the pathetic image in the mirror. ”How could I do this to myself?”

At that moment Tia took inventory of her life, the images flashing in and out like a piston. She saw the father whose love she desperately sought to win, berating her for not being the daughter he so wistfully craved. She recalled the mother who was so wrapped up in her own problems, she didn’t realize that her daughter had become a replica of her inner demons. Tia’s heart ached as she dwelled on her children who thought their mother had abandoned them. In reminiscing, she reflected on the beatings she received at the hands of her pimp with a hickory stick that left her bloody and near death. Realizing that the only place to go was up, Tia faced her past with courage and made plans for a triumphant future.

And as I glanced at this woman for whom I felt tons of compassion, I asked her one final question. “Tia how do you intend on turning your life around?” In typical Tia Montgomery fashion she replied: “By being positive and constantly reminding myself that I’m somebody too.” She continued: "I may be a whore, crack addict, bad mother, good-for-nothing daughter and ugly as home made sin covered in vomit, but I'm still worth fighting for. And nobody is going to take that away from me. You see I’m a butterfly. A broken one, but a butterfly nevertheless.” Then, in a moment of eerie silence, we looked at each other, and for a brief second, saw a flicker of innocence and basked in its splendor and uncertainty.

Postscript: As of May 23, 2004 Tia was employed as a nursing assistant at a convalescent home. On another happy note, Tia said that she hasn’t used drugs or alcohol in seven months and maintains she is also celibate. Welcome home Tia Cachero Montgomery.