Tag Archive: child abuse


Cold Nights No More…

I’m Cold mama”, I said while shivering next to her on the back porch…

It was cold…and no matter how hard she tried, the cotton pajamas were not enough to keep me warm on the chilly, winter, night…the sky was full and the stars were shining bright. She was cold too as I could tell, she shivered and drew me close to her…

He will let us in, he’s just upset,” she stated while trying to provide hope for what appeared to be a hopeless situation…

The wind blew and we both drew closer to each other….this was not the first time we have sat outside together….wondering, waiting ..for him…he had no idea what he was doing to me…to her…they say what don’t kill you, make you stronger, and to some extent I believe it to be true…but what I have learned is…it May not kill you, but I really can fuck with your mind…tear that shit right apart…causing misfiring, chemical leaks and all kinda bizarre stuff to happen…and the sad thing about it is that…this can occur at any age…

That night, the wind appeared to be a little colder, the pajamas a little thinner….and she was appeared to be a tired…tired of his craziness…tired of his lies…tired of his bad choices…and tired of living with them…Now with some people when they get tired just want to roll over and sleep…not to be bothered, while others choose to do nothing when tiredness occur…But not her…she took the tiredness and dug deep within…she was gonna make this stop…No one was going to get her way…No one would stop her from getting out of the hell hole she was in….

I watched her stand up…”Get up boy”, she reached for my hand…I took hers and followed her…The wind still blowing, but this time it was against our backs…A chill crawled down my spine…causing me to draw closer to her as we walked…

Where we going Mama,” I asked…

We’re getting out of this cold, son“, she replied ” Can’t have you catching cold and We’re not waiting on him anymore. If he want us he will have to find us“…

Not knowing where she would go next, I followed her…Why not? she was my Mama…

We walked for a while, then she approached a house, knocked on the door… and she spoke with the lady…”Why sure you can come in, get out of the cold, he know better than that“…

Go sit down,” I was instructed to do…I found a nice comfy warm spot and sat down…the house was warm, so warm…”I remember being here before“, I thought…”Yes,” yawn…”this was”…yawn….I was tired…so tired..

Wake up!…Wake Up Boy!,”  it was a familiar voice, and a familiar face…I yawned and stood up…”Yes , Mama..” I looked around and saw my familiar things, my bed, my toys, my stuff…”How I get here,”  I thought to myself…

She was smiling, “Get dressed time for school“…

Ah! school,”  I thought to myself…”the one place I could be safe, safe from him”“That is true,”  I faintly heard…someone say…I looked around and did not see anyone,

“Ok!?”…I quickly got dressed, ate breakfast and headed to school….

Now did she remove me from that situation, nope, she remained there for several more years…producing more offspring, Why? I don’t know, but I do know that we never sat outside in the cold anymore…So whatever snapped in her mind…he must have recognized it

There are things worst than Death…for Death comes quickly…instantly…taking you from a world you know, whether it be real or imaginary…For no matter what man can offer…when Death comes, you will go…it can be delayed by some forces, but for sure you are born you will die…But why?

Why is it that Death comes?…Doesn’t it realize that there are worst things than it…

Like the pain that often comes before….that excruciating agony that grasp the body, actually causing the soul to shake within…wanting to escape the pain…or the cold, deafening cry of a love one when a great harm have occurred….this cry often is silenced but never after longing of the heart have left slow healing wounds…leaving scars…deep, deep within the soul…not to forget the thought of knowing…not only are you going to leave this Earth, but the thought that you will not get to accomplish any of the things you dreamed of doing…while gazing at the clouds as a child thinking about the future and what you would be when your grew up…And this did not occur because you done anything wrong or harmed anyone, but just because you were dealt a bad hand, the wrong gene combination…this too me is worst than Death

I feel there are things worst than Death…I watched…I learned…and concluded…that often death is the easy way out…too easy…suffering is the true punishment and this is often the case for those who want death…those who want Death’s sweet embrace…to end the pain, to stop the longing, to draw the curtains close on their misery…But then this is when Death will not come…or when Death arrive…it is delayed through means…forcing the individual to face the very existence they are trying to escape….this too me is worst than Death…

Living in a home where you are a thing and only a thing, not allowed to grow, to developed…least not in what you see on the brief television you see while he is asleep…you see the smiles, hear the noises, and watch the colors…you know that what he is doing is wrong, your not a thing…your a person, someone who should be loved, cared for and taught….you know some things…things that you shouldn’t know at your age…like how to make him go to sleep….how to keep him up…how to make sure he doesn’t hurt you anymore…by keeping quiet…for if you do it wrong…he makes you hurt…plenty days you wanted it to stop…want to go to sleep and not wake anymore…but the sleep doesn’t come…you awaken…feeling a need…feeling a urge to do things…Why? You don’t know…to me this is worst than Death

Sitting before you have family, friends, all laughing and enjoying themselves…it’s your party, you have been waiting for this day for a year….But why aren’t you happy? Why aren’t your jolly and appreciative of the people before you…Why? Maybe because these people really don’t know you…and they will never know you because you know they can’t accept you for who you truly feel you are…for years, now you have been trying to convince yourself that you were ok, that they were they weird ones for not accepting things like they should be…you even asked for Death to come…they thought it was due to the lost of your grandpa…little did they know it wasn’t that, but it was due to the burden of carrying this secret…the burden that you are living a lie and not being who you are….Why would you want to be here if you can not be who you felt you were…to love who you want, just as they do?…Well today you will continue to smile and play the part…but to me this is worst than Death

So if I had to choose how Death would meet me…I would want to sleep…take that long nap…for sleep is a mini Death….heart slows…breathing slows…and you dream…allowing you the opportunity to escape reality without the aids of substances…legal or not…sleep allows you to be in control…for your dreams are just that…Yours…Death can’t get you there, your mind…your body…your soul…However once awaken, Death can collect what’s due, and leave being he empty husk and disruptions and sorrow…which to me is worst than death…

But Why Me?

Ever wondered Why me?  Well I wonder that often and I know I should be grateful for what I have, who I am, and all the wonderful blessing that have been tossed my way; but I can’t help but think Why Me?

I have been given the gift of sight and I’m so glad that I can see as this would be one of the last senses I would want to loose….But sometime I wished I have not seen this or that….as my job requires that if I see It or hear it I should react to protect…But not today…But there are days that I wished I didn’t see this…I’m tired… don’t really want to be bothered and I already have one million and one more things to do then to add one more thing one the never ending “To do list”…But Why Me?

Why did I have to be the one to see her slap her child so hard that he slid across the floor like he was on a slip and slide? Why do I have to be there to hear the screams and see the mother run in the store and leave the child in the running car…if only for a brief moment to buy a pack of cigarettes? Why do I have to be the one who see the mother and father curse and fight in front of the children who cover their eyes because they don’t want to see mommy hit daddy once again in the mouth?…But Why Me?

What is it about me, that places me in the right place at the wrong time? Is it that I frequently visit the stores, parks, or activities where children gather? Or is it that I have a sign on my forehead that states social worker…or child protector?…But Why Me?

What is it about being Me that attracts total strangers and they begin tell me their life story or their current problems as if I’m a priest, when only I ask “Hi,” while passing.  Is it my walk? My talk? Or the way I look at them?  I do smile at people, but a smile is a good thing right?…But Why Me?

I often see things I shouldn’t, and wonder about why the person did that action instead of what would have been socially appropriate…but then I find myself think that this person don’t know what they are doing and they just need some classes or skills to teach them. Or maybe an assessment that could provide the answer to the behavior or medication…But Why Me?

Is it my training, the status I have in the community, or my demeanor? I really don’t know, but would like find out…Anyone know? Anyone can give me the answer? Can anyone tell me Why Me?

Imagine That: Doughnut’s Do Dream

I awoke again…being quiet not to awake my brother as he lie next to me…What time was it? I couldn’t tell time properly, but I knew it was not the time for school…I hear the sounds of rustling, and tussling, then the familiar sound of  “Whack,” followed by a whimper and a cry for help….I hated this cry, hated this more that anything I could recall…it caused my heart to race and my stomach to cringe….If only I were bigger….If only I could stop this from occurring…”I WILL stop this one day,” I think, as I lay there with tears in my eyes…I get up…and make my way to the door, crack it open ever so slowly not to be noticed as I wanted to surprise him…”How would I stop this?” I asked myself…”I’m so small and he is huge, the biggest man I know“….I remembered how he would play with me and my brother…We would laugh as he played on the floor with us, toss the ball at us…”How could he be so mean to her?”…she have not done anything…she did everything he asked…How do I know? Caused I helped her….She kept saying, I must get this done before he gets home…He wants his food hot on arrival…She prepared, cooked and waited…and waited…she fed us…and waited…we took our baths so that we wouldn’t be in his way…and she waited…she had to turn the food off…it would have over cooked and burned…and that couldn’t happen…there were no way to keep it hot…besides reheating…Microwaves didn’t exist…It got so late…the darkness came…it extinguished the light and her spirit…She prayed…I know as I recognized that facial expression…the look of despair and desperation….she waited…and she sent us to bed…I said, “good night and I love you” after I said my prayers…”Now I lay me down to sleep…I pray the Lord my soul to keep…and I should die before I wake…I pray the lord my soul you take“…crawled in bed and waited…she waited….I drifted off to sleep…dreams I can’t recall, but I would often dream of a place where things were different…where I would not have to worry about him…about the hard steps, the heavy breathing, the slurred speech, the glassy stares, misplaced smiles, and that bitter, rancid smell….I dreamed I was running and playing in a field tossing a ball with him, he would toss it back and we would just laugh…this was the man I wanted to be with…the man I wanted to teach me how to ride my bike, play ball and cook…as he told me stories of how he was such a great cook…But NO! I didn’t have this man…I was given this horrible, terrible person who reeked and treated her so bad…the door opened slowly…all I could make out was the shadows…he was over her again, swinging…”Whack“…”Diiidn’t I…tell Youse… I want My Food Hot? “Huh“…”It was hot,  I..”…she responded, but before she could finish…”Whack“…this caused her to fall to the floor, like a sack of potatoes…My heart jumped to my throat as my thoughts raced…”Have he killed her? What do I do? He did kill her…Get up! Get up!…NO..Get Up!!”…I looked around and saw the bat…the bat he promised to teach me how play with…I creped out…he didn’t see me…he was kneeled over her…I heard ..”Whack“…Get your asss up!…Nothin’ wronnng wit you…Whack“…My heart racing now…it was beating so hard, I could feel it in my head now…”She is not moving…NO! She is not moving…Get Up!…please Get UP!”…my head begin to hurt…my eyes swelled and tears blinded me…”I’m gonna getcha!…I’m gonna stop you from hurtin’ her!“…I ran towards him…bat drawn back…You gonna pay…I screamed as I swung with all might…all the might a child could muster…”GET OFF HER…LEAVE HER ALONE!“…”WHACK“…..

I jump up, drenched in sweat, breathing hard…” You dreaming again?” ” Yes dear…I’m dreaming again.“…. “You OK?” ….”I fine..“… “K”….She rolls over, I smile at her…get up and go get a drink…If only she knew