6.) Missin' You

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Every step I take, every move I make, Every single day, every time I pray. I'll be missing you. Thinkin of the day, when you went away, What a life to take, what a bond to break, I'll be missing you. -Faith Evans

The funeral arrangements were beautiful ! I walked into the church with an open heart and a clear mind. One of the deacons for the ceremony handed me a pamphlet as an ode to my kidnappers-- I mean parents death. I was really trying to be festive but it was hard to when I was left with such salt.

I walked into the church, and up to their caskets lying side by side. That's how I want to go... Not really ! I stood in front of both caskets, and stared intently down at them. Both of their pictures were standing tall next to their caskets, and in the middle there was a photo of both of them and I in the middle as a child. If only they knew the truth behind that photo.

I gazed at the picture of them smiling, and dad had his hand on my shoulder as if our life was complete. I remember back to the day when we took the photo. It was one of the days that my life began to crumble.

"You need to be ready so we can go take this picture." Dad screamed to mom.

"I am... I just need to put on some earrings." Mom fussed back at Dad's nagging.

"Did you let the boy out of the basement?" I could hear Dad say as I lay my head gently on the basement door.

"No I did not. I forgot he was down there." She said, pitifully.

"Well..." Dad grunted. "Time to get him."

I could hear his footsteps approaching the basement door, so I made it possible for my frail self to move back to the cot I was thrown onto and forced to sleep on. The key began turning in the latch, and the door opened wide. Dad stood at the top of the stairs looking down on me.

"Have you learned your lesson?" Dad asked.

I look up at him, scratching off any itch I had. "Yes sir."

"You learned to not play with dolls, and to not put on your momma's clothes?" He reiterated.

I nodded once more. At the time I knew no better, other than I was being punished for being a sissy.

"Okay come on up." He said standing aside. I could see the light.

I walked up the stairs, and made my way into the warm house. I walked up the stairs as he followed behind me talking.

"I don't want to see no shit like that again. You are a boy. Boys like girls. I will not tolerate it you understand?" He asked, aggressively.

" Yes sir." I said, while walking In to my room.

I was a small child... I was locked into the basement for 2 days cold and alone. There was no light. My parents who were supposed to love me unconditionally locked me in the basement with our two dogs for two days. I was hungry. My parents kept a small refrigerator for mushy dog chow in this fridge. I made sure the dogs were well fed. I found a little sheet of paper and laid it flat. After I gave the dogs their portions, I scooped whatever was left onto the paper for myself.

I was a small 8 year old. I couldn't have been more than 90 pounds soaking wet. Yet, nobody on the outside noticed anything wrong with me. When company would come over, my parents dress me up as if everything was fine. Once everyone left I was back to being neglected.

I walked into my room and saw the tux laid out for me. Mom came in and stood in the doorway.

" Want me to help you put that on? " She asked, with her arms crossed.

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