Forgettting Heaven

You’d think id get tired of telling tales. Of meeting people who think they can cure me and putting any amount of hope into them. Well I am now getting irresistibly tired of ppl. Where is that black void at when u need it? If you really want to know about me, ill tell it here and now, for all to judge and condem me. 1

I was born in Callifornia to 2 idiots. Mother thought a baby would get father to marry her, why she wanted and abusive drunk to marry her is still a slight mystery to me. She says it’s this thing called love. You can see why I don’t understand. Father just wanted a baby to show his father that he wasn’t worthless. Unfortunately the old man died before I was born. His ashes are still in father’s bottom dresser door. Father Doesn’t let anything leave him if he has a say in it. In less than 3 yrs I was taken away from them. The whole story is still unknown to me, thank god, but from what I know, the courts took me away from father because he was sexually molesting me and mother was a druggy. I lived with my grandmother, mother’s mother, for half a yr. She’s the one who brought my "situation" to the courts attention. I hate her. I know that some how the charges against my mother were the only ones to hold and I was given to my father while mother got rehab. Grandmother, being an immigrant, was ready to go home to Hungary with me, before handing me back to him. But instead she did as ordered and I went 'home' with him. Mother soon returned to him and baby me and we lived together in questionable happiness. Questionable because I have no clue, no real memories of the time. There are those things, glimmers of dreams I’ve had, that suggest that things were not as they should be, but dreams r not memories and I refuse to let them infect me. No memories equal a sense of peace. Memories equal chaos. 2

Other people’s tales of the time say that there were many fights between mother and father, and at times she would move out, taking me with her. Technically the first time I was kidnapped because my father still had sole custody of me. But since the birth certificate listed only mother, father being an unknown, she got away with it. I know one place we lived with mother’s sister Annette where she picked up old habits of drugs and so on. The stories told to me of that place are quite disgusting, my aunt being gay and the man who owned the house, Gorge, supposedly molesting me as well. Men are pigs. Even though mother knew that father was abusive she went back to him almost every time. That is until I was 8 and she left 'for good'. At first we stayed in California but father found us time after time, and made it very hard to stay anywhere once he found us. So mother packed everything up, and we left for the other side of the country. Might have been the other side of the world for the differences between California and Kentucky are great and numerous. But beside encounters with snow and weird accents, Kentucky was not fun. Memories finally show up here, living with a man named Randy. From what mother tells me, there was nothing in the way of a sexual relationship going on between them, but he did try to treat me like his child. Good or bad he tried. I had to take the 2nd grade over again because of how often mother moved us, but I was happy with my friends at my school, I make friends easily I guess. Mother moved us around my school so I could finish a yr in one place. One of the places we moved to was a farm, which will remain nameless because I don’t know how to spell it. There my nightmare was Jay. To make a long story short he was my first encounter with someone who thought of me as pretty and he hurt me, badly. A user from day one, he never took anything serious. But as I always say, if you ignore the pain, it might go away one day. I hope. 3

We moved again and again and again, and this time I didn’t stay at the same school. We lived with Dean the old man, and Arnold the man who kept the house freezing cold and Bob with his rotten teeth. While we were living with Bob mother lost custody of me once more. I went to a foster home and even though it was considerably cleaner then home, I didn’t like it. She made me go to church and wear skirts and eat everything on my plate and she even tried to make me be a cheerleader. Yes, silly little things like what I face at this moment, but I can say honestly that the woman completely freaked me out. I was home in under half a yr, but it wasn’t quick enough for me. And Bob was gone. Mother says he was to blame for her losing custody of me but I don’t know whether I can believe that or not. I’ve learned believing her isn’t something one should do all of the time. Sad but true. Her drug habits began to leak into her life in its entirety, even where I was connected. I remember being in the car and mother would turn to me. Shed tell me that we were going into a bad neighborhood and that I should hid under the blankets in the back of the car, if I stayed real still, I could have a dollar. Being a child I did as told and eagerly awaited my dollar. I remember mother driving around in circles and asking people for ‘dimes’. I wondered why she asked for change in bad neighbor hoods but I never asked. And sometimes she said they didn’t taste right. Or something to that effect. I never asked about it, I just accepted it. I’m still not positive but I believe a dime is an amount of crack, not sure how much. I remember one event, where for the first time she got out of the car to talk to the dealer. Curious I poked my head out the window. She was talk to a man and as I watched he pulled out a knife and grabbed her so that her back was to him and the knife was at her neck. I didn’t know what to do, I wasn’t supposed to get up from the back seat, or make any noise, but mother was in trouble. I honked the horn and screamed out the tiny crack in the window. He saw me and ran. I almost wish I did nothing. Also Mother stole to get the money to pay for the drugs. She took ribs from Kroger or liquor to sell on Sundays when you couldn’t buy it at real stores. My mother, such a good role model, she even took me into the stores when she stole and told me to pocket something if I wanted it bad enough. Buy the time I learned stealing was wrong I had a dresser drawer full of playing cards, old maid, and go fish and so on. I burnt them all. But mother never stopped stealing. Mother is a gypsy thief.4

We moved again, great surprise right? And I went to a new school. Meet another boy who thought the wrong things of me and mother did as well. James is a real scare in my life, mother’s boyfriend of the time. Once again memories wonderfully betray me. I remember sleeping... and him trying... I don’t think I have the words to tell you this........ Rape feels so dirty, like theirs dirt everywhere, on your skin, in your skin, and under it. And I know it happened to me, but I can’t remember it well, I’ve blocked most of it out. I remember trying to pretend to be asleep still, wondering what he was doing in my room... and then he took off his cloths and I began to panic, still pretending to be asleep. And he got onto my bed, and took my blankets from me.... and as a child I didn’t wear much to bed....... what I did have on he took off... while I was still pretending, hoping he would just go away. I’m still hoping, 6 yrs later. Just go away, just leave me alone, and please just die. If wishes were horse’s id own every single horse on earth. I’ve blocked the act out of my mind, but I remember him lying next to me, touching me afterwards. "Don’t tell your mother." I remember crying quietly as I could after he left, pretending to be still asleep. I told mother once, what he did to me. Not just the rape, but his 'spankings' and so on. She said she didn’t believe me, but she can hide all she wants from it, it still happened. I know that. While he was still living with mother and me, he found this place, 6 acres in the middle of no where, and mother bought it. I moved just in time to start middle school in the new town, even thought none of our utilities were connected.5

Unlike previous schools, I made few friends at Harrison co Middle School. There was Megan, who thought to be the leader, typical Leo. And Raye=Raceane, the one who kept the group together and me alive. Later there was Shannon S. She being a typical fish girl was so sensitive. I still worry about her even thou I got away from that god awful place. Even thought the rumors flew everywhere about me, they still were my friends. They were my life, because home was a disaster. There was not toilet, unless you counted the bucket that had to be dumped out regularly. There was no heat, unless you counted the kerosene heater which mad me sick and stank. There was only cold running water, and in the winter no water at all. Mother began breeding dogs. They used the bathroom inside more often then they did outside. The house was hardly ever cleaned unless I had the time to do it myself. You see, the only reason mother had enough money to buy the land was because she got hurt on the job, working with horses, and the settlement was enough to buy the land. But the money and land didn’t heal mother. She because overwhelmingly depressed, not moving out of her bed for days. It infected me unfortunately and I became suicidal and more at the age of unlucky 13.6

I’m too tired to finish this right now, tomorrow you’ll learn more ok?7

Where was I? Ahhh, yes, life sucks. After not seeing my father for 5 years and completely forgetting he existed, mother offered me the chance to see him again, in the flesh, in Kentucky. After I told her yes, she began to warn me of terrible things he used to do, and that I shouldn’t get my hopes up. He came just before winter that year. He cleaned up the tailor and hooked up everything for the house, even cable. For the first time I could have ppl come over to my house for a visit and wasn’t to embarrassed. But mother was right in some respects. Father drank and had a short temper. There were a few times when he’d hit me, and if fought he would hit me harder. I could never just let some one beat me, I always fought him. If he had stayed in the house I probably would have gotten the shit beaten out of later, but he couldn’t stand how unclean mother kept the house, and he left only a half yr after he came. He worked for some of the big farms around Lexington, KY so he could be close enough to visit me and for me to do the same. Over the summer I stayed nights with him and he told me things about things in my past I never knew about, or being a child, didn’t care to remember. In fact, up till that year I was never bothered but the fact that I didn’t have a lot of memories. The only time it bothered me was when we had to do a personal narrative for class and I couldn’t think of anything to write about. Innocence is beautiful. Or it was once I should say. That is when I learned part of the story of what happened to me when I was younger. He told me when mother took me to live in Kentucky and those other places in Cali; she was technically kidnapping me, because he had legal custody of me. Things like that, and it hurt me more than almost anything else, mostly because if there was something so big that I couldn’t remember then what else could I be forgetting? It still bothers me, that there could be something huge that everyone in my family is protecting me from, and I wouldn’t know what it is, even though it happened to me.8

Father bought his own land in Aug. of that year, and I started my last year in middle school. Once again my parents’ tried to get along “for my sake”, or to be more truthful in the matter then they were, to screw each other over one last time. The tried to start a horse farm on my fathers land, but in the end it didn’t work out, big surprise. Mother wouldn’t stop going on and on about how evil my father was, and everyday I spent with her I hated her more. I started really getting into band that summer but she wouldn’t let me go to any more practices for color guard after I got over heated one day. In fact after that I wasn’t allowed to go any where or do anything. I became almost a prisoner, only allowed to go to school and the court appointed visits with my father who was trying to get custody of me. The moment father asked me if I wanted him to fight for custody of me I screamed yes. Neither of them knew it but from when father moved I had started self injuring myself. Hell, I didn’t even really understand it at the time. I just knew that I pulled my hair out and burnt myself on purpose. I wouldn’t even notice I was doing it until I finished my self-destructive acts. I just wanted to hurt myself so I could feel something, because I was so numb for most of the time. When I hurt myself things feel better, more under control. A feeling that turns out to be addictive, and the reason I still cut, though now I know what it is I’m trying to stop. When mother found out I wanted father to get custody of me she threw a tantrum, yelling and screaming at me, calling me everything unholy and threatening me. When I was finally allowed to go to sleep that night I stayed up and stared at my self in the mirror. I remember thinking how I could hurt myself and make all of it just stop .I scratched my image in the mirror thinking about what death would be like. None of the little destructive things were enough to stop me from wanting to actually hurt myself and so I took the razor from the bathroom and used it to cut my bangs completely off, almost down to the roots. 9

I freaked in the mourning and cut hair from further back into bangs to hide it, but that emotion, of wanting to hurt myself so bad stayed with me. And I never understood it. Of course I looked like an idiot, but it wasn’t like I hurt my reputation or anything. I was the school leper at the time. Only one guy bothered to say hi to me everyday, little wonder that I fell sorely in love with him. Also little wonder that he tried to use me like so many before him. The temptation to sing it’s a small world after all is still here, even after 4 or 5 yrs. I probably should explain that one. You see, he tried to basically make me into his slave. I was ok with talking to him all the time and I was ok with talking to no one but him, but once other demands started popping up, I became very doubtful that he cared for me at all. I tried to dump him after school one day, but he didn’t like the idea much. He walked off and I didn’t think much of it. I was going to let him alone until he thought things through. I guess he didn’t like his thoughts much because the next thing I knew he hit me. I was flat on the ground with my ears ringing and he was foaming at the mouth screaming at me. He was going to hit me again with his book but before he could I leg swiped him and made sure that he didn’t get up again until the teachers pulled me off of him. I was bleeding from my chin where his book hit me the first time, he was… asleep. And even thou I was the school loner/outcast, they stood up for me. They all reported he attacked me first and I basically got off Scott free, with the exception of this ugly scar on my chin. As for it’s a small world, just another person who hurt when all I did was let it happen.10

After awhile, father got the custody battle into court and I got to see the judge in his chambers and tell him that I wanted to move in with my father. And it is here that I made the biggest mistake in my entire life. When the judge asked me if I wanted to have visitations with my mother I felt guilty, so guilty that I said yes. I’ve regretted it ever since. First of all, I thought that case would be the deciding case, and it wasn’t. They wouldn’t let me go home with my father, no matter how much I screamed about being afraid of what my mother was going to do to me. I cried and screamed, but the only thing they did was have the sheriff tell me that I had to go with her or I went to juvie. Since I didn’t want a criminal record, I went home, where mother threw another tantrum and ended up hitting me. A slap really, but that’s not the point now is it? I went numb again and didn’t talk to anyone until I got to school. Where I had my friends I could relay on to cheer me up and make me happy. I forgot to mention how crazy my friends were. Our leader, Megan had this show she loved to watch, Sailor moon. It was like a soap opera for her it was that addictive. She began to make it that we each had a person we emulated from the show, and she of course we the ditzy blonde leader, perfectly fitting for her. I was Jupiter, tom boyish and tall with brown hair. Raye was Raye or the Sailor mars person… I wonder why lmao. And then Shannon later became Sailor mercury. Once we had our parts for one show we expanded the thing and we got to be other ppl form other shows. Like on Buffy, since I was in total lust with Angel, I got to be Buffy. And we created this whole other plot thing where we were these hero’s fighting evil in all these different realms. It was so much fun, and probably the reason I like acting so much. Of course good things don’t last forever. We grew out of the little drama we had going once we entered high school, Raye being the first to drop it and then Megan and me. Once we didn’t have the whole evil fighting thing holding us together, we sort of split. I got new friends, the art freaks and drama weirdoes, Raye went into the ROTC, and thankfully Megan moved. She drove me nuts mostly because she had to be better than everyone and rub it into your face. Grrrr.11

Life was hell living with mother after the court battles were over. I got to move in with father but I had to go to visit mother still. The first visit, now that is the stuff a nightmares, partly the reason I’m scared of cars. She was crying as soon as we pulled away from the drive way. She swerved from lane to lane screaming that her meaning in life was nil if I wasn’t living with her anymore. She said she should go ahead and kill us both because if I could do something so bad to her then I didn’t deserve to live. The drive from father’s house to mothers is about 25 min’s. But that day it felt like I was in hell for years of retribution. And getting home didn’t fix anything, my room had long ago lost its door to one of her tantrums, so I couldn’t lock her out and read until it was time to go home. I did attempt it but she would come in and beg or scream at me to do something. I did what I have become the perfectionist of. Blankly stared at her still as stone until she gave up, this was rare indeed for her to do. She always thought that words would sway me, but that was not what I wanted from her. I let father get custody of me so that the little money she did get for workers comp could be spent on getting the house cleaned up or getting her out of bed so she could find something to do job wise. I wanted her to be able to become independent some, and I knew that I, being dependent on her, hindered her. Yes, I also did it so that I wouldn’t have to live in that place, but also for her, no matter how buried it is, I always do things for other people. After the agony of the first visit, I didn’t want to come back, so I didn’t go. She came to pick me up and I refused to go. My father supported me on this and told mother to piss of. Well she did piss of, and brought the cops back with her. After a panic attack and 30 million questions later, they told me that I had to go tomorrow to visit her. I went but I was very unhappy about it. Ever since then I’ve thought cops from KY sucked royal ass and should all be put to sleep! Months later she threw her worst fit ever. One that definitely fucking hurt me, not physically, although that was the treat, but emotionally, yeah it fucking hurt. I was reading in my room when she came into my room and started screaming about how worthless it was to go on when I didn’t even love her. She used a huge kitchen knife to gesture everything. “I should just kill myself because you don’t care. But no, that would make you happy, to get rid of me! No I would kill you first, because that would be justice for all the hurt you’ve caused me!” I believe you understand the basic’s of her pleas against me. She didn’t really justify herself really well in my opinion, of course to me there is no real good reason to murder someone. Since she cornered me in my room, I jumped out the window and ran o the neighbor’s house. I called dad to pick me up, and hid inside their bathroom while mother circled the house. When they told her I wanted my stuff, she gave it to me, half emptied and what was left was torn and mostly ruined. All my cd’s were broken or later I found the out side where she Frisbee’d them. I still have the linkin park cd she threw outside. I didn’t want to go back, but she threatened to sue my father if I didn’t and so to keep the peace I kept going back, no matter how much I hated her and hated going back but I still went.12

Living with father at first was wonderful. I finally had privacy. It was almost like living by my self. I would go days with having to talk to father. It was almost too peaceful, and I started talking to him more and more. He didn’t like that too much. He said he spent most of his life being a hermit crab, living in the middle of nowhere all alone. Talking to someone was awkward to him. So I ended up growing very lonely and isolated. It worsened when he started cutting me off from everyone. He disconnected the internet first, then the phones. I wasn’t allowed to use his cell phone but for 10 min’s a day, and he listened to everything I said. I was closing down to everyone at this time, and I just stopped using the phone. Some days I wouldn’t even talk to people. Just stare at walls and make images out of the swirls in the paint. Mother didn’t help, bad mouthing him until I learned to white her out. I’d stare at more walls and imagine floating until she finished. I finally did stop going to visit her. But it took so long to find the blackmail powerful enough to make her stop forcing me to go. She sued me. Claiming I stole things from her when I moved into my fathers house. Books and clothes, they say that until your 18 anything you own belongs to your parents. I missed a lot of school because of it because no one knew what to do for my case. In the end they let mother have her way since I didn’t care one way or another. She wanted me to see a shrink. One thing she did that pissed me off to the point of hating her more than the color pink. Mrs. Shrink said I was the sanest of any person she’s had in her office after awhile. She was proud of how strong I was, even in the face of such terrible circumstances. She just went on and on really, that I had situational depression and that I just had to get away from mother and father if I wanted to have a life, which she never helped me do. I would get out of 2nd block and walk across the street to the offices. I was always a little early and so I sat in the office thinking of things I could say. I never felt like I had anything important to say. I felt so misplaced; I usually just sat there and looked at the toys in the office, the ones the little kids played with. After mother threw another tantrum, the only thing she said to do was not to go back if I didn’t feel safe. 13

I should tell you about that. I asked mother, if I let her get custody of me again would she send me right away to live with my gm in California. She fucking was so excited at the prospect of taking me from my father, that she started working out this whole plan of action. She wanted me to lie to the courts and say father was hurting me, hitting me and so on. And it also meant I would have to wait for turkey break of this year till I could get to move to Ca, which meant my credits would be royally screwed up. I told her that if I went threw with this I wouldn’t lie to the courts and I would have to go during the summer or I couldn’t go thru with it at all. In the end I realized she just wanted to make it that when I came back she could keep me with out sending me to gm’s, and I wouldn’t let her do that to me, not after how hard I fought to get away. So I was going to go home again, to father’s house, even though I didn’t want to go back and be ignored. She threw another fit this time almost killing me. She had bought a small collection of swords to try and bribe me to stay with her. We were yelling about how her plan wouldn’t work and she kind of snapped. She grabbed the sword and started on her old rant about how we should both die because I didn’t love her… and then she swung it at my neck. I don’t know if she knew I would duck or not, but I did. I rolled off my bed and ran, once more and I swore I wouldn’t come back. 14

Any ways the mind shirker wanted me to finish high school in KY and then move to live with gm for college. Well once 11th grade was over and I didn’t have to visit her any more I started planning to move to California. I knew that gm wouldn’t like how I looked when I moved their. She’s a perfectionist in all matters, and that included the body. My fathers land was 125 acres of hill mostly with a small creek running in the very back. Id walk down to the creek during the hottest part of the day and swim in the water until it started getting dark and it was time to go home. I thought some of that might help with how much I weighed and then gm might not be so disgusted with me. Unfortunately, father had different plans for my summer. He wanted me to work for him. Idiot! He almost enslaved me, making me work from 4 am till 2 pm for no pay, no nothing. Oh, wait, I got room and board and food when he felt like buying it. All of my clothes got raggedy and ruined because I had to wear something to work, and he refused to buy me new clothes to work in. He didn’t buy me food unless I threatened to pour all of his beer down the sink. In a month I got so sick of it that I went to visit my mother for her birthday, even though I had stuck to my refusal to see her for 3 months. She was more than happy to let me hide out at her place until I felt like going back home. The only time I ever visited my fathers house again was when he was not home so that I could get my things out of the house before he used them to make a nice big fire. After I got my stuff, I packed it up and flew to California. 15