Broken Girl

Slavery at it's finest

Things were going downhill, my grades were dropping and my parents blames it on being not interested in school, or could it be the fact that every morning i had to wake up at 5.30am and do chores before school? Every morning i had to clean up my room and fluff all 3 bathroom capets, fluff picking as she called it. Fluff picking is when you  have to walk on your hands and knees picking up fluff and debris off the carpet and collect it in your hand.  She would follow me pointing out fluff with her discusting oddly shaped feet. Many times she would kick me in the face or stomach when i  missed some. She told me she hated me that i reminded her of my mother.

We had to deliver flyers from door to door,it was the only time i could really think, so i enjoyed spending that time alone.The night before today i had got in trouble for talking back, i was scared of her and on the rare occasion i might slip and mumble something after she hit me, this time i said bitch! Where did that come from? why did i say that?. I delivered my flyers and crying, why did i have to do this by myself and the twins get to stay home and watch tv or play with thier friends? As i put the flyer in the mailbox i peered to my right to see a blue recycle bin and inside was a glasss pop bottle, i reached in and grabbed it and put it in my flyer bag, walked into a desserted laneway and smashed it!  I took that sharp piece of glass and cut my face on both sides of my cheeks, My face felt hot and wet,  i looked in a car mirror and was pleased with what i saw, would they care that someone did this to me? Well that is what i will say happened to me.

When i got home my dad saw my bloody face and asked me what happened? i told him that around the corner  a man cut me with a piece of glass, when he asked why i told them becasue i would not give him any money. My dad jumped into his car and raced down the street, to see my dad jump in his car and hug me i felt great, he actually cared? But i hope that no one finds out i did this. My dad came home mments later and called 911 , i thought oh no, they came and took my statement, and oviously didnt beleive me becasue they took me in to question me, i was placed in a locked room by myself. The scary thing is i heard some woman screaming , the policeman told me she was yelling to get out of the cells downstairs. They played good cop bad cop and broke my story down, the cuts didnt match up,they said,  they told me that if he cut me with his right hand that the cuts would be going the other way.Oh great i thought , they are onto me. And i did eventually confess after 3 hours, they asked me why i did this to myself and i lied, i told them that i was having problems at school. Why didnt i just tell them that i was being abused verbally and physically by my step mom? They released me to my dad and i could tell he was angry at me, i thought that i could tell him why i really did it but i didnt say a word,we got home and Deedee was there at the door waiting for us, i walked by her and she smacked the back of my head and called me an idiot. I went up to bed and cried myself to sleep.

I awoke the next morning to dad installing a double deadbolt on my bedroom door, he said that he wanted to keep track of me and when it was bedtime i was to stay in my room, he must have really been mad about the cutting, so now i would be locked like a prisoner in my own room. I went to school like any normal day, i think my teachers knew i was having problems at home, i told my best friend elizabeth the story and she wished she could help me. I wish school was all day till bedtime so i wouldnt have to face them. Not only was i abused on a daily basis i was treated like a stranger, well maybe even a stranger would be treated with more respect. I was not aloud to sit on the couch when everyone else was aloud, on evenings when the whole family sit down in the living room dad and deedee shared the three seater couch, while one twin sat on the rocker, and the only twin layed spread out on the 3 seater sofa. I was aloud to sit next to my dad on the floor, was i not a part of this family? why does dad treat me like this?

Holidays were the time when even Deedee was nice, each year christmas time was great! She talked to me like i was one of her girls, she pat me on the back as i walked by. This feels good, and i got alot of presents at christmas mostly clothes buti was ok with it, we also got some tos and school stuff. But it  would not last, i f i did something she did not like or look at her wrong she took it away and gave it to one of the twins. So as i lay in bed in my locked room i realize i have to go to the bathroom, it must be 2am, no one hears me knocking, i end up peeing my pants, yes at 13 i had an accident. I felt ashamed and i knew that Deedee would give me hell in the morning. To my surprise she did not notice. But she came to me and hit me in the mouth so hard,she said one of the twins heard me call her a name. I told her i didnt but she didnt care to hear it<to this day at 36 i have the scar on my lip still. That day i decided i would run away for the first time, maybe this would make them realize i was hurting. I left for school as she thought but she didnt know i wasnt going to come home for a week, escorted by the police.