The Turning Point: Prologue and Chapter One (Strong Content)

The Turning Point (Strong Content)

Prologue

A story like mine should never be told. It is not one of happiness nor of friendship. For I have become hard to the world. I am a survivor. I stand with my head high and heart locked. My motives are seen to be selfish when they are not. I come off too strong or cold hearted without meaning to. I am not perfect. To this day I still struggle on with my past. I move forward but never forget.

The world is an odd place. We as a person cannot ask for happiness. We do not deserve it. Though, we cherish it when it is given. Seeking love, protection, hope, and kindness drives us on. We make a point to be the highest being on earth when others creatures deserve more respect and happiness than we do. People are cruel, caring, forgiving, unforgiving, loving, chaotic, vengeful, but at times peaceful creatures. What happens to us shapes us. Every detail of our life weaves a thread in the tapestry of our lives. Everything good and everything bad leads us down a path. Some come out on top and some do not. We all have our stories, our dreams, and our own thoughts. Every person has their own potential and specialty. Mine is my ability to move forward through the hard.

In order to protect the people in this story, names will be changed and some relationships may be altered. This story is not for young audiences. There are graphic scenes that are inappropriate for younger audiences.

Chapter One: The Beginning

The beginning of my life was perfect as most childhoods begin. I had a mother and a father. Being an only child meant that I had all the caring attention of my parents. I learned to read and write before I even started kindergarten.

Each morning I remember waking up to the sun and hearing music when I first awoke. My mother would be in the kitchen waiting for me to get up for breakfast. After breakfast I remember going back into living room and dancing the afternoon away. My mother and father played games with me and watched TV with me every day. At night during tuck in time I was read a story. I heard stories from authors such as Dr. Seuss and the Bernstein Bears.

Even at this time I moved around a lot. I was quite used to moving. I lived all around Kettering. The last house that I lived with both of my parents was on Prentice St. We would walk down to Delco Park and play and get donuts at the Krispie Kreme on Sundays. Sometimes coming home we would get Dairy Queen on our walk home. Alas, this peace would soon end.

As time went on I remember my parents fighting. There were days where they would each pull me aside and ask if the other had said anything to me about them. I was too young at the time to notice the issues with this. Then it happened.

I remember this, as well as I remember my last meal. One evening I awoke to shouting coming from the next room. The room was that of my parents. My father had a knife to the door trying to open the lock. I calmly asked, "Daddy what are you doing?'

He replied with, "Oh nothing dear, I just want a pillow from the room and mommy won't give me one. Go on to bed."

I then went back into my room and cracked the door. I watched as the door flung open and he chased my mother. Scared and frightened I followed them out into the kitchen. He then yelled and pushed off a cup and it shattered near my feet. My mother pushed me behind her. Next he pulled mom with him. As if a villain out of my favorite movies jumped out. My father then pushed her up against the couch. I watched as he choked her and she lost her breath. After this happened she went limp and I ran towards him with enough force to knock him over. After my mother regained herself we ran out to the car. She screamed, "Let me have my son."

"He stays with me. You cannot have him," he said in a false confidence.

We then left in the car. I remember my mom sobbing as we headed to the police department. My mother was unable to speak. We found one at a gas station close the station. We pulled over next to the officer. Because of mom's lack of speech I had to tell the officer everything that happened.

Next thing I remember is my father being pulled away with a cop. I was not with my mother though. I sat in the car with my mamaw. I cried and looked back at my infant brother. Time stood still for a while. My childhood was now over.

I then remember being sent to an abused woman's shelter. The shelter served breakfast and dinner every day. My mother, baby brother, and I shared a single room. The room was very small and barely big enough to fit the two bunk beds and a tall dresser inside. A small TV rested just above the dresser. The only belongings we owned were a couple outfits and I had my teddy bear named Sparkles.

Each morning I woke up around 6am and went to the breakfast they had each morning. Then my mother would take my brother and I downstairs. My brother was put into a nursery. I was placed into a room with other children a couple years younger than I. I spent my time teaching myself how to further myself in reading, writing, and math. Each day they gave out snacks that I normally refused. Next would be naptime; I never napped. The caretakers gave up on me napping and didn't even bother putting down a cot for me. I instead tried to learn more things and I helped the caretakers to get ready for the next thing. Around one 1pm or so, they would take us to an indoor playground for 'recess.' I never played with any of the children. I tended to stay by myself.

After 'recess', all the other children went back to the same room except for I. I went to see my baby brother in the nursery. I would eat a small snack with the caretakers in the room. Then I would feed my brother and play with him. I felt it was my job to care for my brother on absence of my mother. To this day I do not know where she went in the day time.

Around 4pm my mom would pick my brother and I up. The three of us would make our way to the dinner room and eat. After dinner, we would go upstairs to the small library they had. The library was not as much of a library as a room full of stuff such as books, movies, and games. My mother would allow me to choose a few movies for the day to watch and we would go back to our room and watch movies until bed time.