Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: abuse, negligence, pain, rape, self-laceration
Well, I wrote this story years ago and I have no intention of editing at the moment. Everything is true or as much as I can remember. This incident took place in February of 1977. I’m not going to go into detail but the previous seven months were among the worst times in my life and this period of time was no better. Here it goes:
I am sixteen years old and my world is so cold. I am in the midst of my Winter years. I can only think in black and blue.
It’s late in the evening and my foster mother decides that she wants a roast beef sandwich with salt, pepper and butter on both sides. My dad wants a bottle of ginger ale soda. Most parents wouldn’t send their sixteen year old daughter to the store at ten o’clock pm but not every daughter gets caught in the middle of a sex tryst with her high school teacher. As far as my foster parents were concerned, I’m not worth worrying about. I’M A BAD GIRL.
I wander down Elizabeth Avenue heading toward Franklin Street. I don’t like Franklin Street at night. In the daytime, the shucking and jiving drunks are a picturesque scene hanging out at in front of the liquor store. At night, their red eyes glint with lust as they inquire “Hey little Miss, where you off to all by yo’self? You want me to walk wit’ you?”
I”m daydreaming and walking, its my favorite thing to do. I’m so caught up in my fantasies that I neglect to keep myself invisible. Carl Randolplh ses me. I cringe with fear. That guy is crazy. I heard that he raped some girl. I can’t avoid him but luckily he’s with some guy. ” Hey Barbara”, yells Carl “How come you don’t ever talk to me? “Maybe it’s because you’re an evil, crazy bastard” I think to myself. I actually said I dunno or some similar shit. ” I can’t talk now, I gotta go to the store for my mom”, I scurry away.
As the Arab guys are making my mom’s sandwich, I’m hoping that Carl won’t still be up the street. I thought about going the long way back home but I didn’t relish the screams and possible physical abuse that my mom would hand out if I took too long getting back. I head on back home the quick way. Oh Damn, there he is and he was obviously waiting for me. Aw Shit, why didn’t I take the long way home? I try to walk by but Carl grabs my arm. “Carl, man”, his friend pleads “leave the girl alone”. I try to pull my arm away but only succeed in dropping the bag. I wince at the sound of breaking glass, momy is gonna be pissed! Carl still won’t let go as I attempt to save the sandwich. The other guy gives up and I beg him not to leave me alone with Carl. I’m crying and screaming. Carl tells the guy to leave so that Carl and “talk” to me alone. He starts pulling me across the street to a desolate side street. His buddy jets the other direction.
I’ve never been in the warehouse area on Grove Street before. It’s dark and to my dismay, empty.
“Please Carl, let me go home, please?” My mom is going to beat me if I don’t get home and I already busted my daddy’s soda” Carl didn’t want to hear it. He slaps me to the ground and starts pulling off my pants. I’m scared out of my wits. OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, HE’S GONNA RAPE ME, JESUS, HE’S GONNA RAPE ME!!!!!AHHHHHHHHHHH
I scream only to have Carl slap me hard enough to knock my head to the ground. He takes out his dick and shoves it in me. He grunts and pounds into me, asking me if it feels good. I’m thinking, I’m thinking and then I scream out
“YOU’RE FUCKING CRAZY, I HATE YOU!!!!!!!”
The motherfucker already had bulging eyeballs, now they bulged further out in rage. He grabs my neck and chokes me. His strength is unreal. I don’t black out, I see white. I gag and scratch at his hands. Am I gonna die?
Suddenly he stops
I crawl away from him. There, on the ground, was a piece of glass.
I clutch it in my hand.
“Come on Barbara, dont you want to do it again?”
I hold out my arm and start slashing at it. My arm is him, I slash. The blood is warm against my cold flesh, it drips down to my fingers. I hold out my arm to show Carl the gaping wound. “NOW, ASSHOLE, YOU SEE WHAT I CAN DO TO MYSELF, NOW I’M GONNA CUT YOUR FUNKY ASS!!!!!”
I’m totally full of shit and fear.
Carl only see the blood and backs off. “You a crazy bitch, damn I had no idea you were so crazy”. The nerve of that motherfucker but I don’t say anything. He’s leaving me alone, that’s all I care about. I just wanna get out of there.
Carl insists on walking me home being that I’m so unbalanced and all. I start screaming like a banshee unleashed and he runs away.
I walk home angry, drained, frightened.
I knock on the door to be let in. My mother opens the door and punches me in the face. “Where the FUCK were you and where’s my GODDAMN food?” She shoves me upstairs. My father is already lying on the bed, my mother joins him.
“Mommy, I’m sorry” I started crying “Carl Randolph raped me. I tried to get away but I couldn’t and he made me drop the soda. Look at my arm, he did this too me”. I sobbed long and hard. I held out my bloody arm, holding that damn bag to show mommy.
My foster mother smirks and gives a knowing glance to my father. She turns to me ” You’re paying for that sandwich and the soda. I don’t want to hear any more of your goddamn stories. Get out of my face, you ninnycookbitch tramp. I wish your real mother had to deal with your shit.” I cowered and took quick glance at her husband. What a fucking, fucking piece of shit. He knew I was telling the truth. I really hate them.
Back in my bedroom, I curled up on my cot. My arm was bloody and throbbed with pain but I was afraid to go to the bathroom to wash it. I would have to pass my mother’s room and I didn’t want to hear her abuse. I don’t know why I have to suffer like this. Oh wow, I still got this sandwich. I take the mangled food out of the damp bag. My salty tears seasons the sandwich. Alone in my dark room, I eat and the food briefly comforts me. I cry myself to sleep.
