Copyright © 2015 Sweetie Bee Productions llc.
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A disclaimer: The characters in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
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If you are anything like me, you are curious and impatient, in desperate want of getting to the material you feel is worthy of your time and attention. We live in a highly competitive and extremely fast paced world; it’s a realm of me, me, me, and now, now, now.
You may have an urgent desire to jump feet first into the core components and the content of the title. However, to obtain that kind of deep, dark, and delicate information, a person’s murkiest and personal secrets, it has to be somewhat earned.
Everything in this life comes at a cost. You need to learn a little bit more about me as a whole, before you can access, assess, or even begin to understand that repulsive, disgusting, and embarrassing fragment of my soul. That sliver of me that I buried so long ago and am now being forced to resurrect.
No need to worry, I will provide you with meticulous and graphic detail, all that dirtiness, the contents of the title, and it will all come soon enough, but more first.
What makes a person who they are is everything important to the essence of their being. “Who am I really?” I asked myself. I have a successful life…now. I am married with grown children who are married. I even have a grandchild. I am happy…now.
I am not the best of writers or even what most would consider a writer-to-be, and I don’t claim to be, because my grammar is all over the place.
However, I have a story to tell, as everyone does, and your story is just as important as anyone else’s story. With that said, who better to tell your own story, than you?
My story is quite embarrassing and really intimate. I can’t believe I will soon be sharing it with the world. By world, I mean the handful of people that may read this book. I thank God for strength, because who could easily part with this kind of information and stand proudly and say, “Yes, it’s me! Look at me and all of the stupid choices I made!”
It’s not easy, but I will share it, only because I hope to help young girls and boys. I hope and pray they can learn something from my mistakes. I have no desire for fame or publicity. I will share my story and with that comes a piece of my soul. There is so much to tell, because I have chronicled my experiences over the years. I have three chronicles, so far. So bear with me. All will be revealed in its due time.
It scares me to be so detailed and open about my most intimate secrets, but maybe it will help someone by sharing my story. I don’t know. I feel unsure, but I will proceed anyway. To feel this kind of awkwardness and ignominy and know that it is all surrounding your life is completely surreal.
It’s more difficult than anyone who hasn’t done it could imagine. I’m not holding back though, I didn’t do this to go half way, I’m in it 100 percent and I will share everything with you. No matter how vile or disgusting it makes me feel. Please read the entire story in all the chronicles. There is way too much to tell for just one book.
The scariest part of all this is thinking about how people will judge me. Thinking about how they will look at me. Will they turn their heads away from me with repugnance? This book has sat in the closet for twenty something years now. I brought it out and dusted it off. I gave it over twenty titles. I chose the title for this set of chronicles, because that time frame is what started my life in the direction it went and it is significant to my makeup.
I just graduated with a Master’s degree in Psychology. I enjoy studying people for a living; however, this goes beyond the confines of a client in a chair expressing his or her concerns about their life. To find out what made me who I am, what happened to me for better or worse in my life to form my existence, you have to know more first.
I kicked my size 8 ½ black Vendome’s up and placed them on the edge of my Mahogany Hiland desk as I nibbled on the tip of a Mont Blanc Fountain pen.
I stretched back in the comfortably padded and cushioned black leather Barcelona chair. I could feel the weight of my long dark brown hair. It draped the back of the chair and swung back and forth, as I forced the chair to lightly swivel left to right. I relaxed and closed my eyes.
See, I hadn’t been practicing what I had been preaching, so to speak. I had suppressed my memories my entire life to avoid the pain that reliving them would bring.
After all, who wants to hurt? Who wants to feel pain? I want to be able to help my clients in the most efficient and professional manner possible. To do that, I know I have to be true to myself and the first person I need to help is me. I drifted off into deep thought and I began a self-therapy and hypnotic session.
I had to force myself to go back to the start of it all, as painful as I knew it would be for me. My mind was almost in a dreamlike state. I would take some time off from the real world and I promised myself that I would do this every day until I could break free from the bounds that had consumed me my entire life.
I turned on my iPod and put my headphones on, I listened to the first song that came up, Simply Red’s “Holding Back the Years”. I closed my eyes and drifted.
I recorded it all and here it is.
I came into this world a lovely and beautiful curse. I was quite stunning, according to the many testimonies I had heard. Nobody could ever tell what I was. My ethnic identity a mystery. Heck, I don’t even really know what I am. There are too many races to tell.
Irish, Mexican, Italian, African-American, English, Jewish, American Indian, and more. That is most of what makes me who I am. Neither of my parents were one race. They were just as mixed as I was. The absolute hands down question that was asked most of me was, “What are you?”
Nobody could ever tell, the Mexicans thought I was a Mexican, the white people thought I was white, and black people, they didn’t know what the hell I was.
When I was younger, it was acceptable to ask that question, “What are you?” People fear asking that question anymore.
My very first memory was a weird and somewhat frightening one. I was 16-months-old. I had beautiful light-brown softly curled hair, huge brown eyes, a tiny slightly turned up nose, thin but shapely lips, and velvety skin.
I was a little smaller than average for my age. My mother, Lorena, decked me from head to toe in a matching outfit made of yellow chiffon. I had on a dress, petticoat, socks and bonnet, all with lace and ruffles, and white walking shoes.
Mom loved to make me fluffy and all girly. She was on call and her job needed her immediately, so she was forced to get an emergency sitter. Our neighbor, Mrs. Finnemore appeared to be the safest choice.
We were on our way over to Mrs. Finnemore’s house, a two story brick home with green shutters and four bedrooms. Those houses were the primary choice for families with more than four children. They were very spacious and people often had the basements finished to provide more room for their growing families.
It wasn’t unusual at that time to have six or more children. My mother, who was holding me securely in her arms, stopped by the large oval mirror hanging smugly on the wall in our ranch style home to take a gander.
She said, “Look at Sweetie Bee, she is a pretty girl, isn’t she?”
I smiled shyly and nuzzled my head into her small breasted chest. My mother, Lorena LaRue, was thin, but shapely at 5ft. 3 ¼in. and 98 pounds. She had waist long, dark brown, almost black softly flowing hair, big brown eyes, a thin nose, and thin lips. Her soft and tickly bangs swept my cheek when she leaned over to grab my tightly packed pink and yellow striped diaper bag by the handle, as she frantically fled the house.
The beautiful, small 3 bedroom white house with black shutters my parents owned was 950sq ft., but it was theirs. As beautiful as it was, it would be only the 1st of many they would own and lose over my lifetime.
I remember the hand-off from Mom to Mrs. Finnemore. Mrs. Finnemore was a very warm, short, plump, and rounded woman, but she had a nice smile, short curly black hair and she dressed like the mom from Leave it to Beaver. That day, she had a green two piece suit dress on that looked like it was made out of wool. Silver dove earrings and a matching silver dove bracelet and necklace set. She wore short pumps that matched her outfit, comfortable, yet a little dressy.
It was as if she was always in a movie. Being a housewife and mother was her primary job and she cooked and cleaned looking fancy like that. Mr. Finnemore, a tall thick, but not fat man, had a big black mustache that prickled me whenever he kissed my cheek.
He worked at the local dairy and he was the nicest man ever. He always wore a hat that looked like a top hat. He would remove it and salute me whenever he saw me. He would grab me and pick me up in his arms twirling me around.
The Finnemore’s had four boys and longed for a daughter to love and cherish. I became their honorary daughter. Mr. Finnemore would throw me up on his shoulders and tote me around like a proud papa whenever they sat for my mom. I absolutely adored them both.
The first few years of my life was filled with more love than I could fathom. I was loved and adored by all. My own father, of course loved me abundantly. His first child, his daughter. Between my dad and Mr. Finnemore, I spent the first three years of my life living on both of their shoulders.
My dad, Lee, stood about 5ft. 10in. and he was thin and handsome. He had dark brown eyes, thick black eyebrows, black shiny, wavy, sometimes curly hair, sideburns, and a mustache. He loved to fish, work on cars, and race cars. He spent a lot of time playing with me and taking me to the park. I went everywhere with him. I couldn’t have asked for a better world at that time.
So, my mom handed me to Mrs. Finnemore and it was time for her to rush off to work, Mrs. Finnemore assured my mom I would be well cared for in her absence. I felt safe with Mrs. Finnemore. I’m not sure what happened in between the hand off and the next memory, but I was suddenly up in Mrs. Finnemore’s son Billy’s room and his three brothers were present. They were tossing me back and forth daring each other to take my diaper off.
I was handed to her son, Bryan, who I remember being scared of, it was the moment he started pulling off my petticoat that I began screaming bloody murder and Mrs. Finnemore ran up to rescue me.
I know Mrs. Finnemore watched me again, but she never let the boys near me like that again. If only I had kept those same instincts of fear and fight as my life continued on, things may have gone in a whole different direction.
I was 15-years-old and it was late winter ‘85. Spring was around the corner and it had always been my favorite season, by far. I was born in the spring of 1970. On the day I was born, the number one song in the US was “Let It Be” by The Beatles.
It was my first day working at a real job where I received a pay check and wore a uniform. I felt free. Independent. Grown. I pressed my uniform with perfection. I was used to making my clothes look perfect, because that was a requirement for my J.R.O.T.C. class at Lincoln High School, where I had been promoted to Platoon Leader.
I didn’t have my driver’s license yet, and seeing as how my parents were at work and we weren’t on a bus route, I had to walk the two plus miles it took to get to work every day, and then Mom or Dad would come to pick me up when I got off work late in the evening. I decided to leave two hours early for work to make sure I wouldn’t be late. I had no idea how long it would take me to get there.
I left out the door of our house smiling and happy. I was singing the song, “She Works Hard for the Money” by Donna Summer, as I headed toward Southpines Mall. I decided it would be safer and quicker to cut through Unicorn Park that sat right on the corner of a busy intersection in the middle of our small neighborhood.
I was 5ft. 2in. 120 pounds, at the time, I had small breasts, a small waist, nice calves and ample buns.
My facial features were lightly sun-kissed colored skin, medium sized brown eyes, and a slightly turned up, average sized nose, smaller lips that were shapely, a decently smooth complexion, regular sized ears, and medium thick brown eyebrows. I had pretty wavy, medium length brown hair, and nice teeth. That sounds funny.
Apparently, I had a very desirable shape as well, by the amount of men, both young and old, that pursued me. I don’t mean to sound arrogant, please forgive me, but I realized when I finished this chronicle that I hadn’t really described myself much physically, outside of my weight and height, so I had to come back and add this.
Everywhere I went, guys tried to pick me up. It wasn’t anything unusual at that time for me to get hit on 10+ times a day.
Even women went on and on about how pretty I was. I think it was because they didn’t know what the heck I was, I was a mystery to them. It was nice, but sometimes uncomfortably annoying, because I didn’t always know how to respond.
Of course, I always felt uncomfortable when grown men would hit on me and I was a young girl, even when I was older. I had heard on more than one occasion, from older women that when I got older and fatter, I would appreciate those days I used to get hit on all the time.
Back to my journey to work. So, in the past, when I walked up to the four-way stop at the corner of Unicorn Park guys would try to pick me up, whistling and honking. Therefore, I felt safer cutting through the grass of Unicorn Park, where it was usually empty that time of day. Yet, very much out in the open.
Unicorn Park was about two blocks away from our house. It was still my first day heading to work and I was in the middle of the park, when I heard a thump and a car revving its engine. I looked back and saw that a 1985 Canary yellow IROC-Z had hopped the curb and it was heading towards me at a high rate of speed cutting through the greenest blades of grass.
Since my dad was a mechanic and loved cars, especially fast cars, my brothers’ and I were born to race. We made it a point to know the make, model and year of every car that was driving the streets of Hoboken.
I looked back as I started running away from the path I thought the car was taking. I could see two males in the front seat.
I thought, “Oh my God! This is the moment my mom had always warned me about; being abducted by a stranger!”
I was terrified, but I was trapped. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t escape, so I figured I would play cool and trick them, then escape at the right moment.
What else could I do, I was in the middle of a big open park, in an open field, alone? I truly questioned my decision to take that shortcut through the park. The IROC pulled up beside where I was briskly walking. Inside were two guys. A tall Italian looking guy in the passenger seat and a short looking white guy was driving.
I was so scared, but they drove beside me slowly. Timex Social Club’s song, Rumors was playing on the radio.
My brain was telling me to run fast, but I could barely see the end of the field. I started picking up the pace and the IROC just sped up faster. There was no way I could out run their car!
I just couldn’t believe what was happening. I thought about what I should do at that point. I thought frantically to myself of every escape scenario I could come up with, but the bottom line was that I was caught if they wanted to catch me.
I thought quickly about all available weapons on my body. The answer was, I had none. I wasn’t going to go down without a fight though, my Uncles taught me how to fight. It was going to be a fight to the end. That was it, period, only God could help me!
Then, quickly, the guy that was sitting in the passenger seat of the car attempted to cover the right side of his face with his right hand. I was confused. It suddenly hit me the passenger was embarrassed by what was happening.
Then the driver leaned over towards the passenger side and peered out the window at me.
The driver said, “Hey! You need a ride?”
I ignored him and kept walking quickly. He just kept driving along side of me.
The driver continued on and said, “Were not trying to hurt you or anything, but my friend here thinks you are pretty”.
The driver said, “Please talk to us. My friend is a nice guy, besides, I’m not leaving until you at least say hi to him.”
So, I finally said, “Hi!”
The passenger said, “Hello, my name is Sandy, what’s your name?”
I said, “My family calls me Sweetie Bee, but my name is Tatyana.” Sandy (laughing) said, “That’s great, my real name is Michael Sandro Valentino, but my family calls me Sandy for short, because of my middle name.”
Sandy said, “But why do they call you Sweetie Bee?”
I said, “My family calls me Sweetie Bee, because of my middle name Bella, and people always call me sweetie, because they think I’m nice.”
Sandy said, “Oh, I see. Well, Sweetie Bee this is Jerry Fenton, my best friend.”
I said, “Hi, best friend, Jerry.”
I was thinking how cool it was both Sandy and I had nicknames based off our middle names.
Both Sandy and Jerry laughed, we all laughed; although, I’m not sure why we were really laughing.
This was all happening while I was still walking across the green lawn at Unicorn Park and Jerry and Sandy were still cruising beside me.
Sandy said, “Where ya going?”
I said, “To work!”
He said, “We’ll give you a ride, right Jerry?” (Nudging Jerry)
Jerry said, “Sure, no problem!”
I said, “No thanks, I have to go, I’m late for work!” (Walking faster)
Sandy said, “We’ll just follow you to work to make sure you get there safe, where do you work?”
I said, “The mall.”
Sandy said, “That’s a long way away!”
I said, “I know, you can follow me, but I’m not getting in your car, okay?!” (Feeling uncomfortable and unsure of what else to say at that point)
Sandy and Jerry did just that. They followed me all the way to my job. I was still scared; although, the vibes I was getting were not bad at that point. I thought it was weird that they followed me, but Sandy seemed really sweet and determined.
These festivities carried on day after day for a few weeks. Jerry would drive with Sandy in the passenger seat and they would follow beside me while I walked to work every day. We were building friendships together, all three of us, it was actually cool.
Jerry was a real wise ass and I never knew if he was serious or not about the ignorant things he would say. Sometimes, I would laugh and, sometimes, I would get annoyed, but as long as Sandy was smiling I didn’t really care.
My mom constantly warned me and my brothers about never getting into a car with a stranger; although, Jerry and Sandy did not feel like strangers at that point, I still never got into the car with them and they offered every day.
Sandy would bring me a single red rose, or a red or pink carnation flower, a small fluffy brown or white teddy bear, Turtle candies, Hershey kisses, or a love card of some sort almost every single day.
Even after many weeks had passed by, Sandy and Jerry were still following me every day. One day they pulled up on the grass and drove alongside me like they always did. I looked in the car at Jerry, he muttered something in a rude tone, but I couldn’t make out what he said.
Jerry was not an attractive guy at all, he had huge teeth the size of a Walrus’ and a lopsided long head with crazy messy hair piled high atop his head. His family was well enough to do; however, you couldn’t tell, because Jerry always wore wife beaters and tight jeans with the same high top shoes. I’m not sure if he ever changed his clothes.
There is something that makes a person a lot less attractive to me when they are mean or rude. I couldn’t tell if Jerry was getting jealous of me and Sandy’s relationship or what.
Jerry stayed nice enough to get by at that time. He was playing the song off Michael Jackson’s Thriller album in the background. He was banging his head to the music, wiggin’ out, angrily, while Sandy ignored him like he didn’t notice Jerry had a bad attitude.
I’m not sure what even made Jerry keep bringing Sandy to follow me, when Jerry seemed so annoyed about having to do it.
Sandy folded his arms on the threshold of the car window and looked up at me with his huge brown doe like eyes and asked, “How old are you Sweetie Bee?”
I said, “I am 15-years-old, how old are you?”
Sandy said, “I just turned 18.”
I said, “Ohhhhhh.”
Sandy had just turned 18 and I was still 15, so I knew that my parents would never allow me and Sandy to have a relationship. My mom didn’t even allow me to wear makeup. She told me I had to wait until I was 16 and, even then, I could only wear very little mascara and lip gloss.
Sandy said, “Will you go out on a date with me sometime?”
I said, “No, my parents would never let me go out on a date with anyone, especially a boy who is 18 years-old.”
Sandy said, “Well at least let me have your phone number, so we can talk on the phone sometime.”
I said, “Nope, not gonna happen Sandy, my mom doesn’t allow me to give my number to boys.”
Sandy said, “What if I come over to your house and meet your parents?”
I said, “Oh, no! I don’t think so! Now you have got to be kidding. Do you want me to get killed?”
So we left it at that.
That was until I came home from school one day. I was in full J.R.O.T.C. Navy dress blue, cap to shoes. I was walking down the block with my form fitting navy blue pencil skirt, my black heels, my pressed white short-sleeve dress shirt, with a black tie designed for women and my black Navy beret on.
I had spent two hours pressing that outfit. If we didn’t get every crease pressed right and our shoes shined like a mirror, we got talked about and points deducted, so I made sure my outfit was right.
I looked and blinked my eyes tight ad looked again. I thought I saw what looked like the top of Sandy’s head standing in our driveway. Sandy was as tall as a horse, so it wasn’t hard to see him from a mile away, in most cases; however, the day was a bit overcast, so I couldn’t see too clearly that day, but if it was him, what was he doing at my house?
As I got closer, I realized it was him, for sure. The more steps I took, the picture became clearer, and clearer, and clearer…
I said, “My goodness!”
I ran up to Sandy and screamed, “What are you doing here, Sandy?”
Sandy said, “Calm down, I just came to walk you to work today, Jerry couldn’t make it. Wow! You look beautiful! Whew Whee! You look good Sweetie!”
I narrowed my brown eyes angrily at him, not at all impressed with his compliment. I said, “Are you crazy?! My mom will straight out kill me, as in murder me dead! Yeah, thank you, Sandy, but no thanks…”
Sandy interrupted me and said, “Yeah, I think Jerry is getting mad crazy jealous, he told me he doesn’t want to follow you to work anymore, so I have to walk you every day myself from here on out.”
I didn’t care anything about what Sandy was saying at that point. I was dumbfounded, my mind was racing, and I couldn’t believe Sandy was standing by my house.
I said, “No, you can’t Sandy, you can’t walk me to work!” (As I snatched him by the arm away from our house and hurried him down the block)
I said, “Sandy, how did you find out where I live?”
He said, “I grew up in this neighborhood, my parents moved in when I was an infant. I know it like the back of my hand. I already did some investigating. Not only did I already know where you live, I knew when you and your family moved in as well. I only live a block away from Unicorn Park.”
I felt panicked, like I didn’t have many options, I had to get Sandy far away from my house and away from my soon to be arriving family as quickly as possible. My three younger brothers were due to arrive home at any moment then and my parents would be following shortly thereafter.
I said, “Go wait on the corner Sandy!”
Sandy said, “Calm down! Aren’t you overreacting just a little bit?”
I said, “If you don’t know, you should have asked somebody while you were doing your investigating. Lorena LaRue doesn’t play! She will whip your behind!”
Sandy started laughing hysterically. I was so frustrated, he thought it was funny, but I didn’t. We came from two totally different backgrounds. I came from the streets and he came from a well to do family. His parents owned a brand new house, they were the first ones to live in it, and they had brand new cars. They were educated and had top paying jobs and we…we were the total opposite.
I had seen my mama take down grown men. My mama was tough as an ox and size didn’t matter to her…at all! As a matter a fact, the bigger a person was, the more she thought they were challenging her, and the more she wanted to fight to show them she wasn’t scared of them! She would grab a big cast iron skillet and clock a head, really quickly.
I yelled, “Sandy, let me change really fast and I will be right out.”
I ran inside the house to my bedroom, yelled hello to my kitty, Pooky, and gave him a kiss. Pooky was my baby. He was a Persian and his paws were extra huge, he was a fluffy, crème colored, beautiful cat. My dad got him for me for my 12th birthday. I got Pooky when he was only 10-days-old and he was a runt.
Pooky was as crazy as a road lizard! A die-hard scrapper. Whenever I chose an animal, I always chose the runt of the litter. I was always the smallest in my class, so I felt like I could relate. Pooky really thought he was a Rottweiler and you could not convince him he wasn’t. He would play fetch and catch and do flips and all kinds of tricks like a dog.
It didn’t matter if he was a runt or not. Pooky would fight cats, sometimes six at a time; dogs, clothes, trees, grown men and everything in between, he just didn’t care. If you messed with him, my brothers or me, it was on. There are so many stories to tell about Pooky.
Our neighbor called the dog catcher on him one day after his 10 year-old son Gabriel came in our yard and Pooky chased him out. Pooky was like a guard dog, so if anyone came into our yard and we were out playing, he would try to protect us.
I don’t know how many times we told that little boy to leave Pooky alone, he was always harassing that cat. I thought Pooky was going to kill that kid. Gabriel was one of those little brats that would sneak in our yard and throw things and pick at Pooky. Then he would scream, “Mom…… that devil cat is attacking me…… for no reason!” Gabriel, that little boy was a little evil brat!
So, the dog catcher finally showed up at our house and talked with the neighbor guy to write down the complaint. Pooky was hiding out in some thick bushes. I tried to warn the dog catcher, but he wouldn’t listen to me. I told him, “Listen, this cat thinks he is a guard dog, he will attack you and bite you to protect us.”
The dog catcher laughed and ignored us, of course, and he went into the bushes. There were a really thick row of evergreen bushes and various short trees in the neighbor’s front yard, right against the front of their house, across the street. It seemed like Pooky knew what was going on.
I had never seen Pooky hide in bushes before, but he hid out in the neighbor’s bushes. I heard the dog catcher screech, “Help me!” I wasn’t going in to help him and neither was anyone else.
About 10 minutes later, the dog catcher came flying out of the bushes, he even left his net behind, screaming and running. He ran to his truck, jumped in, started it and put the gas pedal to the metal, as he peeled out. He was sticking his head out the window, waving his hand frantically, while he yelled, “That cat is a demon!” He then yelled to our neighbor “You’re on your own man, that thing is not human!”
We never found out what Pooky did to that dogcatcher in those bushes, all we know is he did something to terrify that man. There was a ledge above the entrance to our door, on the inside of our house. Pooky just sat up there on a piece of cardboard, on guard, waiting for the wrong person to come in. If he didn’t know you, it was on! He would jump down and attack.
Pooky didn’t mess with family he knew, only a stranger when trying to come in uninvited. Back in those days, sometimes, strangers would knock on the door and then come on in if they knew you were home. Pooky wasn’t having none of that.
There were a lot of interesting stories surrounding that cat over the years. He would beat down all of the neighborhood cats, so they all joined together one day to take him down. I came outside one time I heard him crying and there was ten cats on him beating him up, they took one of his eyes out. I tried to kill all those cats for ganging up and bullying my cat.
I was crying and screaming, “Come out and fight Pooky one on one you cowards!” Like they were humans or something. As I held my bloody cat in my arms, one of his eyeballs hanging out, the other cats scattered. I ran and grabbed my brother’s pellet gun, I wanted to take them all out for messing with my baby Pooky and they all hid from me.
I honestly think I would have shot them all, if I could have caught them. However, I had to focus on putting my cat’s eye back in his head. I popped his eye back in his head and put a piece of tissue and tape over it. Boom! He was fixed up! Yeah, we didn’t go to the vet when our animals got messed up back then, it was the “bathroom doctor” treatment back then.
Whatever, we could find in the medicine cabinet, broken bones, cuts, scrapes, or popped out eyes, it didn’t matter, it could be patched up back then. “The bathroom doctor” could fix it all. We barely had money to eat, let alone go to the doctor.
Back to Sandy waiting outside by the corner for me, after I gave Pooky a kiss on the top of his head. I ripped off my Navy blues and threw on my work uniform. I worked at a hamburger joint in the mall. I unpinned my Navy cap from my shoulder length dark brown wavy hair and ran back outside to meet Sandy on the corner.
I was used to seeing Sandy sitting down in the seat of Jerry’s car. When we finally were in the clear and around the corner away from my mom’s house, I took notice of his height. I couldn’t believe how big he was standing beside me, as we were walking down the street; he was huge. The top of my head came to his chest.
Sandy had some serious curls going on himself, mullet style in the back, brown curls on top. Hey, it was sexy back then. He had beautiful tan skin, nice white teeth. I am totally a teeth person. They were slightly bunny style, but far from bucked.
Sandy stood 6ft. 6in. he was muscle bound, with pretty brown eyes. I grabbed Sandy’s hand to hurry him along.
Sandy and I quickly headed down the street towards Unicorn Park, towards my job and as far away from my house as I could get. When we got to Unicorn Park, there was a picnic bench in the middle of the park, by a big tree that I walked past every day on my journey to work.
Sandy sat down on it. The bench was partially hidden from the side street to my house.
I said, “What are you doing, I have to get to work.”
Sandy said, “Come here.” (He extended his hand for me to come to him)
I said, “No, what for?”
He (smoothly) said, “Come here.”
Hesitantly, I did.
Sandy pulled me into him and in between his legs as he hugged me close.
As he pulled me into him, I could feel his hot breath on my neck and the stubble of his skin on my smooth cheek as his face brushed against mine.
I got scared and backed away quickly.
I said, “Come on Sandy!”
Standing a few feet back from him, but facing him, I waved for him to get up off the table and walk with me. We continued on our walk while Sandy clandestinely tried to conceal what he had going on in those big-n-tall Wrangler jeans, by placing his hand in his pocket.
After that day, I started meeting Sandy at Unicorn Park to watch him play basketball with his group of friends. He would play every day in the evenings. Sandy also walked me to work every day. I came home one day and asked my mom how she felt about me giving Sandy our phone number. I explained how I met him, but didn’t tell her he had been following me and walking me to work every day already for the past month or two.
Mom said, “No, you can’t give some strange boy our phone number.”
I didn’t talk back to my parents or question them, so when they said something that was just it. I was devastated, I needed permission, and I wasn’t sure what to do. It was a dead end, I felt. How could I explain to my mom in a way that she would understand that Sandy wasn’t just some boy and that I was beginning to have feelings for him, undeniable feelings?
I didn’t try to disobey Lorena LaRue under any circumstance, especially not since the last serious butt whoopin’ I had gotten. It was memorable enough to last a lifetime, and that happened when I was fourteen.
Lorena LaRue, didn’t play. I got my butt tore up all the time. Even when I didn’t do it sometimes, thanks to my little brothers.
I finally gave in to Sandy’s whining and gave him our phone number. I would have him call me during the times when I knew my parents wouldn’t be around. Of course, one of my little brothers decided to rat me out one day. I had to confess the entire story to my mom about Sandy and Jerry following me to work, the whole nine-yards.
Very reluctantly, Mom and Dad finally consented to allowing me to speak with Sandy on the phone, but only after they had met him, so I set up a dinner meeting.
I invited Sandy over for one of my mom’s famous spaghetti and meatball dinners, for desert we were having Twinkie Surprise. The weird thing about my family was, when we were really poor, we did poor well, and when we were doing well, we did that well also. At that moment, believe me, they were just moments, we were doing good, financially speaking.
So, we had the dinner, Me, Sandy and my family, and it went okay. My family viewed Sandy as a little strange and Mom didn’t trust him, but it went well enough. Outside of my brothers laughing and nudging each other throughout the dinner and my mom giving them threatening glares of death.
I was so nervous, I could barely eat in front of Sandy. I’d always had a problem being nervous and eating in front of people. Over the next few months, Sandy would eat many more dinners with me and my family. Mom knew Sandy’s family was well to do, so she did her best putting on airs, even though we were slowly sliding down a slippery slope. I had learned the patterns over the years.
My Mom and Dad were the best parents in the world! Their only downfall was, they were not good with finances. That is a big deal indeed. Some people would say they were not good parents, because they were not good with money. I disagree. My parents taught me how to forgive, how to love, how to be decent, and most of all how to love God.
There could be no better parents in my eyes. They left the house and got married young and they had not finished their learning from their parents. You can always take classes on finances or go to college and learn finances, but those other things have to be instilled in you from the start.
Sandy and I started talking on the phone daily. I had passed my Drivers’ Education course with flying colors. My teacher made me the example driver, which I was proud of, especially when I got two A+’s and one A- for parallel parking on my final scorecard.
I was just waiting for my sixteenth birthday, so I could turn in my certificate and get my real drivers’ license, but I still had to wait a few months for that to happen though.
The students in my class were divided into two parts. One-half had to take the written test at the drivers’ license station and the other half didn’t. I was one of the lucky students who didn’t have to take the written test, but, oddly enough, I had studied long and hard and really wanted to take it.
However, we only found out last minute who would and who wouldn’t have to take it. I still had to wait until I turned sixteen, regardless. My sixteenth birthday fell on a Saturday, so I had to wait until Monday and it was sheer torture. Getting my regular license would be just one of the many goals I had set for myself to accomplish.
That Monday, we had a dinner in celebration of my birthday and getting my license and my mom made my favorite Cherry Twinkie Casserole and Sandy brought me two-dozen roses, two cards, two boxes of chocolate candies and two stuffed animals.
Even though Sandy was becoming a regular at our nightly dinners, no matter how often Sandy came over to visit, Mom still thought Sandy was a bit over-the-top, a little phony, and way too old for me. She felt Sandy liked to overdo everything and that was because he was hiding who he really was.
I felt my mom was just being overprotective, too judgmental, and very unfair to Sandy. Honestly, my mom plain friggin’ hated Sandy’s guts with all vengeance. She felt he had hidden homosexual tendencies and he was a pervert as well. I didn’t even know or understand what a homosexual was, so I thought that was absurd, and a pervert? I wondered where she would get that idea from.
I was a teenager, so that may explain why I did the following, but I told Sandy all the details about my mom’s feelings about him. Sandy told me my mom just wanted him sexually and that she had made a pass at him. Sandy told me that my mom came out of her room in her underwear in front of him one day. It all confused me.
I had always trusted Mom and she was never the flirting, whore type, yet I loved and trusted Sandy with all my heart. My mind was so tangled that I didn’t know who was telling me the truth. They were both telling me totally different stories.
I could never distrust my mom, she had never ever been a promiscuous or dirty woman, and she is loyal to my dad to the death, just as her mother was to her dad. My dad was and still is her one and only love, the only person she has been with intimately.
Her mom, my grandma only loved my grandpa and even though he’s been dead over twenty years, she never has had eyes for another and she never will. Many women in my family our “one man women”.
That means they plan to marry, have sex with and be with only one man for their life on earth and all eternity. It doesn’t matter if he dies or not. That is how I grew up, I was raised that way and I had every desire and intention of carrying on that way with Sandy if he was the one I was to marry. I vowed to only have one husband in my lifetime, no matter when he dies.
I trusted Sandy too, if he was going to be my future husband, I would need to trust him, so I decided to keep the two of them separated. I made a point to see Sandy when my mom wasn’t around to avoid conflict between the two of them. That was the best solution my young mind could fathom.
The rule was that I wasn’t allowed to date until I turned 16 and, even when I turned 16, I could only have Sandy over to the house. I couldn’t go out on a real date with him, I wasn’t allowed to date anyone like that.
My dad was always around and he was cool, I loved him to death, he was an excellent father, but he was a manly man and worked on cars in most of his spare time with my brothers, teaching them how to be men.
I wanted to work on cars with them too, but I wasn’t allowed, I think Dad wanted to keep me girly. My dad was a good man, home every night with the family, and he didn’t smoke, do drugs, or cheat on my mom, but he was more of a provider. When my mom’s hours changed at work, the rules became lax and eventually went out the window.
Sandy and I kicked it up and started going out of the house and doing activities. We dated and did everything fun you could possibly imagine, in a non-sexual manner.
We took lots of walks, we went to the movies, and we went to carnivals. We also went to the mall sometimes on the weekends. We did everything except have sex, I was still a virgin. I had always planned to stay a virgin until I graduated college and got married. I wanted to be the first in my family to graduate college.
Our family went to church every Sunday at East Side Baptist Church and sometimes during the week. I loved God with all my heart, mind, body and soul. I had been baptized and I had deeply rooted morals and values.
At age 7, I learned about Jesus and I fell in love with him. I was outside playing one day in front of our house and a church bus rolled up. The driver opened the door and asked me if I knew about Jesus. I told him no and he told me he would pick me up for church if I asked my mom. He came back and talked to Mom and she said no. I begged her and she finally agreed.
When I went to church and they told me about Jesus and all he sacrificed for me and how he died on the cross for me, I could not stop crying. I cried the whole time I was there. I cried through many services and songs. When we sang the song he’s got the whole world in his hands, I cried. When we sang, yes Jesus loves me, I cried. There were other songs I cried to, just thinking about Jesus’ undying love.
I had never been a crybaby, I rarely shed a tear, but this Jesus was making me cry. I was crying tears of sadness, happiness and joy. I never stopped loving Jesus from the day I found out about him. I vowed to serve him and believe in him all my life.
I said the Lord’s Prayer every single night after I learned it, before I slept. I begged Jesus to show me the way and let me know the right church for me, so I could make it to Heaven. I prayed this prayer my whole life, until I was in my 30s and Jesus led me to the right church for me.
As the months passed, Sandy and I got really serious. My mom tolerated Sandy, but she never felt very comfortable with him. She still felt he was way too advanced for me, too worldly. My dad stayed silent as my mom always made most of the calls in their marriage.
Sandy was a really great singer, dancer, and performer. Sandy’s idol was James Brown and he could dance just like him. I went to all of Sandy’s competitions and talent shows with my parents and brothers, sometimes even just me and Mom would go with Sandy alone. Sandy won almost every contest that he ever entered. He would often sing love ballads as I sat in the audience and hummed along with him.
When Sandy wasn’t doing that, he was dancing, and he danced well as he was extremely versatile. People were amazed at Sandy’s dancing abilities, being that he was such a huge guy.
This one particular competition, Illinois Greatest Singer, was being held about two hours from our hometown. Sandy rode in the car with me and my mom to the competition. Sandy wouldn’t tell us what song he was going to sing for the competition though, he told me and Mom it was a surprise.
The competition was being held at an outdoor theater, there were over 50 contestants, and it was a big competition. Sandy was a bit of a local superstar and everyone knew him, so whenever we came to any of his shows, he got me and Mom seats right up front.
It was a beautiful, warm, but not hot, sunny day. The temp was about 75 degrees and there was a fresh smelling breeze blowing. I had a knee length yellow and white flowered sundress on with a matching headband and bow wrapped around my wavy brown hair and white jelly sandals.
Sandy went backstage to practice and we hopped in some of the shops surrounding the theater while we waited for Sandy’s turn to come up. Mom and I jetted out of the shop and back across the street. I could hear my clear jellies making a squish-squish squish-squish squishy sound as I ran. We quickly grabbed our seats when we heard the announcer say that Sandy would be coming up next.
Sandy took the stage to perform. He opened his mouth and started singing, “just smile for me and let the day begin.” I cupped my hands over my mouth surprised, it was my favorite song at that time, and I loved it more than anything!
“On the Wings of Love” by Jeffrey Osborne. As Sandy was singing, he started walking off the stage, (a very large wooden platform with four oversized wooden steps) and then down the stairs and, before I knew it, he was standing in front of me and singing to me. He had sung to me before, but he never came down off the stage to sing directly to me.
The next line in the song was, “I’m sure that you’re an angel in disguise, come take my hand and together we will rise,” and Sandy reached for my hand, I shyly and embarrassingly gave it to him, (my ears and cheeks beet red with fire) and he kissed it. Then he leaned down and kissed my cheek. My cheek felt so hot, his lips felt cool floating across it.
The teenaged girls in the audience went crazy, I could hear high pitched screams.
I was happy and I felt special, but I had never felt more uncomfortable. I looked around and everyone was looking at me, smiling. The crowd roared and applauded and gave Sandy a standing ovation.
His stunning performance won the crowd’s vote for champion and he received a $1,000 reward. Not bad for a few minutes of singing. Sandy didn’t have a regular job, because he was cleaning up on competition money. He won all but one of the contests he was in that I went to and many others I did not attend. He had made thousands since I first met him.
Sandy always had money, he wined and dine me and bought me gifts, candies, cards, bears and flowers every chance he got. He truly treated me like a princess. Sandy was so nice to me, never ever unkind to me. He always showed me love and respect.
Over the summer Sandy found out he had been chosen for this group called “The Young USA Singers” located in California. That is why he never got his own car, he knew there was a good chance he would be leaving and moving across the US.
It was a moon away from our quaint town near Hoboken and they had thousands of applicants, but they were only selecting a hundred to join their group from a worldwide pool. Sandy was really good and he got chosen fast since he was in the top thirty-six on the list of one hundred. I was so happy for him, because he would be living his dream; however, that meant he would be leaving me.
Joining the group would mean he would be gone for a minimum of two years. I was devastated. I would never want to be a part of holding anybody back from fulfilling their dreams. I outwardly offered Sandy my unbridled love and support of his decision to move to California, while, inwardly, I was tortured.
I had never known a love like the love I had with Sandy before, and now it was being ripped, torn, and shredded from my grasp.
How would I be able to love a man I couldn’t see but once or twice a year, if even that? I felt like Sandy and I were more than boyfriend and girlfriend, and that we had also become best friends. We shared our deepest secrets, and I mean everything we had, with each other. I had never done that with anyone, not even my best girlfriends growing up. Now I would be losing it all. I was crushed. I kept my feelings to myself and it made me feel deceptive inside.
I felt nobody in the world knew me like Sandy did. We had been chumming around every day for almost a year. Sandy spoke with me frequently on our dates about his concern I would fall in love with someone else while he was away. He made it a point to discuss it, in great detail, every time we were together.
I assured Sandy he was the only one for me, but he didn’t seem to believe me. I wouldn’t even kiss Sandy for the longest time, because I was worried about breaking my vow to God.
Sandy repeatedly pressured me for kisses and more than kisses, quite often. I just wanted Sandy to be secure with my love. I wanted him to know, without a doubt, that I would wait faithfully for him, no matter what. I had an undying, fundamental love for him that nobody could ever take from me, except for him.
Finally, one day, it happened. My dad wasn’t due home from work until late in the evening and my mom was running errands while my brothers were watching TV in the basement. Sandy and I were sitting on the sofa in the family room, out of view from my brothers’ watchful eyes.
I snuggled up against Sandy while we were talking, as I often did. I looked up at him as he placed his fingers under my chin, then our eyes met, and so did our lips. His lips were so soft that it was like kissing a fluffy, good tasting, marshmallow. However good-tasting his lips were, they couldn’t compare to the feeling in my body, whew!
My whole body felt flushed with a flaming fire that was raging out of control. It rushed through my veins from the bottom of my toes and then to the top of my head. My mind was burning with passion and I had never felt so out of control and unable to control my feelings.
As we were kissing, I placed my right hand on his rock hard chest, my elbow dropped down and glided over his private area. I felt embarrassed and quickly raised my elbow.
I never wanted to stop kissing him, but I was inwardly tortured, because I had made a vow to God, but Sandy’s affection felt so beautiful. I could hear one of my brothers coming so we stopped and never continued. In the weeks nearing his departure for California, Sandy ate dinner with us at least four nights a week.
I really don’t remember why I never went over to Sandy’s house, but when I think back, I think Sandy told me something like his parents weren’t very social people. It was more like I felt his mom hated my guts and wished death upon me.
Sandy had mentioned something about her not liking how poor we were and the poor way I dressed and saying my shorts were too short or tight or something to that effect. It was the 80s and even the boys wore shorts that were too short and too tight.
I could remember meeting his parents two times at that point. Sandy’s Dad was 6ft. 8in. and thin, with a big mustache and big brown curly hair, he was cordial, I think he may have liked me.
Sandy’s little sister Millie was skinny and tall for her age, with long brown curly hair and brown eyes, all their eyes were brown. Millie was at best, forcefully, polite.
Sandy’s mom, Irma, was civil, but short and straight to the point. She was a very skinny chain smoker, who liked the drink, she stood tall at 5ft. 11in. She was flat chested, with no shape, and she had big narrow feet. She had a short light brown bowl cut hairdo with a thin pointy nose. I would find out much later down the road that Irma was a practicing Wiccan, it was something that drastically collided with my spiritual beliefs.
I would come to learn more about the way Sandy’s mother Irma felt about me as time continued. Just as my mom didn’t care for Sandy, I felt like Sandy’s mom thought I was evil and no good for Sandy, which hurt my feelings. I had always envisioned things differently and I had hoped to love Sandy’s parents like I loved my own.
I felt Sandy’s mom didn’t really care for me because I was not as well to do as they were. They made considerably more money than my family did.
I felt that Irma’s opinion was that she didn’t think I would ever amount to anything and she felt Sandy was going to be rich and famous, so neither he, nor they, should be around the likes of me or my family.
Sandy’s dad was always nice to me, but I felt his courtesy was very limited and controlled by his wife.
Finally, the time came in our relationship when we had to talk about having sex, which I was not going to do, not until I got married! I was an extremely firm believer in staying a virgin until my wedding night. I had made a vow to God and I never intended on breaking that vow.
However, Sandy felt differently and he was very vocal about it. We were down to two weeks until Sandy’s departure. We had been together through spring, summer and fall, for many months, which felt like 3 years. Time was running out, for Sandy at least. Sandy would be leaving for California and he felt time and opportunity was slipping away from him.
I was so deeply in love with Sandy. Our parents knew we wouldn’t be able to see each other for a long time and they were sympathetic, so they started to become more relaxed and we got to spend every free moment we had together.
Sandy didn’t have a job since he was leaving, but I did, so I would see him after work. Some days I would take off work without letting my parents know, so I could have more time with Sandy. We spent what felt like endless nights talking about everything under the sun, more like everything under the moon.
Sandy told me that he had recently and suddenly lost his grandfather, just a week before he met me. He was so very close to his grandfather and the loss was devastating for him, he told me his grandfather was close to him like a father.
I felt heartbroken for him. He told me his mother Irma was having a hard time getting over the loss. She was a daddy’s girl and found it hard to continue living her life without her father. Maybe that’s why she never had time for me. I had never had anyone die in my family that I knew well at that point, maybe a sixth cousin somewhere.
Therefore, I had no idea what losing a loved one felt like, especially someone who was like a mother or a father. I wasn’t familiar with the grieving process and I couldn’t even dare to imagine a world without my parents, grandparents, or any one of my three goofy and awkward little brothers that I was extremely close to and loved with everything in me.
I felt sorry for Sandy’s mother, maybe that’s why her heart had hardened, it gave me a warmer heart for her.
My mom lost her favorite brother in a tragic accident when I was only a few months old, but I never got to know him. My Uncle Michael was accidentally electrocuted. My mom named my middle brother Michael after him.
We drove in the daylight one weekend to Moppit Lake. Sandy pulled over to the side of the road so we could get out and look at the glowing green water of the lake. “Human Nature” by Michael Jackson was playing in the background.
Sandy parked; I jumped out, and then ran up to the rail. I gazed at the water, it was an eerie, but beautiful glowing green. Sandy came up close behind me and embraced me from behind. He nibbled on my ear. I could feel a surge of power emanating from his body. I loved inwardly knowing I had that kind of powerful effect on Sandy that he loved me. However, I was too young and unaware of the danger to know what was really occurring.
He said, “Let’s fool around Sweetie.”
I said, “What, what do you mean?”
He said, “Let’s get in the back seat and kiss.”
I said, “No, Sandy you are going to try and have sex with me.”
He said (monotone), “No, I’m not Sweetie, come on, I promise I will not try to have sex with you.”
I said, “Okay, Sandy, but no sex! I mean it! I don’t want to do this, if it’s going to make you want to have sex!”
He grabbed my hand and pulled me to the car. He sat down in the back seat and pulled me on top of him. Sandy started kissing me heavily and French kissing my neck.
“Lady in My Life” by Michael Jackson started playing on the mix-tape Sandy had previously made.
I said, “See Sandy, you are trying to go too far.”
Sandy said, “Just let do it a little bit. You see this song says it all, you will always be the lady in my life.”
I said, “No Sandy, you know my vow to God, let me up!”
I was trying to come up with anything I could to distract him from wanting to do it.
He said, “Come on Sweetie, we’re just kissing.”
I said, “See Sandy, you are always trying to trick me, see there is a car coming.”
Thank God a car came by slowly and I jumped out of the backseat.
Crying, I said, “Seriously Sandy, I’m never going with you again if you try that again! I’m getting mad, because you are trying to force me to do something I don’t want to do and it’s going to get me in trouble in so many ways. You know I love you and you are taking advantage of that.”
Sandy apologized profusely and said, “I’m sorry, I promise you, you can still go with me and I won’t pressure you any more, okay?”
Sandy got out of the car, hugged me and wiped the tears off my cheeks.
He said, “Okay, feel better? How about I buy you some ice cream to make you feel better, huh?”
I nodded my head, yes. I was so stressed.
We got in the car and got some ice cream and we headed to my house. I didn’t eat any of my ice cream, I gave it to my baby brother Shawn. I was just sick with anxiety. My love for him was tearing me apart from the inside out. I was sick with confusion and pressure. It wore me out. I was going to school, R.O.T.C. practice, I was working a job, I was going to church and I was seeing Sandy. I was so exhausted.
I felt like a dirty vile and sneaky dog when I got home. I quickly said hello to my mom and brothers and told them I was going to take a nap, after giving Shawn my ice cream. That was nothing unusual to them, because when I wasn’t in school, working, or with Sandy then I was napping.
I ended up losing my job at the food court in Southpines mall; they laid me off because they were going out of business. It was somewhat of a blessing. I just needed a week off to think.
A week later, I applied for a new job and started the next day, at the department store Gordo’s as a cashier. I was very busy with Sandy, school events, and my job, so I barely had the time or energy to breathe, but I always made time to see Sandy.
Due to the new hours I was working, Sandy and I had to arrange something else and it wasn’t a good thing since it meant tricking and deceiving my parents again. My mom was scheduled to work nights and my dad was home with us kids. I wouldn’t get off work until 9pm-10pm every night five days a week.
Sandy told his dad Sr. about our situation and how he never got to see me anymore and that he just had to spend more time with me before he left. Sandy pleaded with his dad to take the car out late at night. Sandy talked me into sneaking out with him in the early morning hours, after my mom left for work at 11:00pm.
Sandy’s dad, being a man, told Sandy that he understood and consented to him borrowing his car every night; however, Sr. told Sandy that he had to have the car home by midnight every time he took it out. Well, that only gave us about an hour, which felt like minutes.
Of course, that wasn’t enough time for either of us. Sandy brought the car back late one or two nights and that pissed Sr. off, it made him livid, so he stopped letting Sandy use the wagon. Sandy tried to explain the time constraint and begged his dad to bend the rules, but Sr. wasn’t hearing anything Sandy had to say.
We would sneak out and walk around the neighborhood a few of those nights we were banned from using the car, but it was way too risky. My parents would randomly leave at night for any reason. Maybe to go get a snack or some late night ice cream, you never knew with them. Sandy’s parents were the same way.
I couldn’t sneak out in my father’s car, because he could smell and hear his 1970 gravy brown GTO coming and going from twenty miles away. He was a mechanic and knew the sound and purr of every kind of car, especially his own, that’s how into cars he was.
So, that was definitely not an option. Even if my dad couldn’t, two of my brothers would have been able to, Lee and Michael, they were car fanatics too.
It was also freezing at night, too unbearably cold for me. It was fall and the chill of the night air was present. Since, we had a burning desire to be together and in each other’s arms, as much as possible, until Sandy left and Sandy couldn’t bear to watch me freeze, Sandy came up with another plan.
Sandy started sneaking Sr.’s car out late at night after his mom left, because she also worked the night shift. Irma just so happened to head out for work around the same time as my mom did every night.
Sandy’s dad Sr. owned a 1981 ocean blue and wood paneled Chevrolet Caprice Classic station wagon that he kept in mint condition. Sandy’s parents’ house was at the top of a hilly street. So, Sandy would put the Caprice wagon in neutral and let it coast out of their hilly driveway until it rolled onto the street.
Sandy would then push the car super-fast with all of his strength down the hill and jump inside the car while keeping it in neutral and coasting it to the bottom of the hill. He would then start the wagon up at the bottom of the hill to avoid making any noise near the house.
I was with Sandy a time or two when he did it. Once, the car was racing at such a high rate of speed that Sandy, being such a big guy, had a hard time jumping into the car quickly. Sandy was drug along for a distance until I repeatedly tapped the brakes. It was a wild, dangerous, exciting, and crazy time.
The times I wasn’t already with him, Sandy would park down the street from my house and come lightly tap on my bedroom window until I woke up and I would sneak out that way.
We had a red brick ranch style house and my bedroom was on the north corner of the house. My parent’s bedroom was on the northeast corner of the house. Thank God my dad was a pretty sound sleeper.
I had to get off work, do all of my homework, take a bath, set my clothes out, and fake like I was in my pajamas when my dad came in my room to say good-night. I would tie my hair in a cloth, so my dad couldn’t see it was all fixed up for Sandy and then I would get in a short nap before Sandy came.
I was exhausted beyond belief. Some nights I could not make it out, I have been ill with an autoimmune disease, since I was a child and when my body shuts down, it just shuts down. Other than the nights when I was sick, Sandy and I would stay out every night that our moms’ worked until five in the morning.
I would come home, get dressed, and head straight to school, but since I barely had time to eat breakfast, love was all I was running on. I was actually getting very good grades in school and performing well in R.O.T.C, regardless of sleep, or my lack thereof.
Thank goodness this phase only lasted a couple of weeks, but it felt like an eternity. When I heard Sandy tap the window lightly on that final night before his departure, I opened it up quickly and quietly and jumped out the window into his arms.
If I missed Sandy’s arms or did not jump directly into them, I would be punished by the likes of the Evergreen’s blades. I made that mistake the first time and it was memorable enough not to repeat.
There were two 3ft. by 4ft. tall prickly fully mature Evergreen bushes directly beneath my bedroom window. We both got pricked by a few of the needles, but we didn’t care, love was our shield.
With Sandy being 6ft. 6in. and 215 plus pounds and I being 5ft. 2in. and pretty lightweight, Sandy had no problem catching me as I leaped into his huge and muscular arms. I made the jump, Sandy caught me perfectly, and then I leaned my head against his firm, muscular chest. He had on three layers since it was cold outside.
On that night, and I will always remember, Sandy wore an outfit similar to that he always wore. He wore a white T-shirt underneath a buttoned down red and blue checkered flannel shirt, which he had tucked neatly into his Wrangler jeans, and a thick crème-colored buttoned down sweater, with Penny Loafer shoes and no socks.
Even through all those layers, I could still feel the strength of his muscles and he smelled sooooo good. Sandy mostly wore Polo cologne or Old Spice and I loved them both. But the Polo made me sick, so I asked him to wear just a little Old Spice, it didn’t bother me as much.
I had on what the youngsters now call Skinny Jeans, but we called them Straight Legs back then. They were designer and I paid for them with my own money that I earned by working. The jeans had a unique design on them as they were kind of a swirled purple, printed on white and I wore that with a matching loose fitting silky shirt that was purple to match.
Underneath that a plain white ugly bra and old panties with teddy bears printed on them and slip on black loafers with no socks. My hair was nicely curled and I wore very little makeup with just a tiny bit of mascara and a coat of lip-gloss.
I couldn’t wear any perfume myself, due to my autoimmune disease, so I had to put out natural smells and hope they smelled good enough. I was severely allergic, specifically to women’s perfume at that time, so I bathed well with Ivory soap. Sandy always complimented my smell and couldn’t quit smelling me, so I guess I smelled alright.
As Sandy let me down on the ground, he slowly slid my body against his body until my feet touched the earth, yet it seemed to take an extra-long time due to our height differences.
I had never experienced something so bad… that felt so good. I stood on my tippy toes and we hugged for a few minutes and I drew in the exciting light fragrance of Sandy’s Old Spice cologne. It made him smell like a man.
Sandy kissed the side of my neck and buried his nose into my soft, sweet-smelling curls, then he grabbed my hand and we scurried down to the end of the block while clutching our mouths tightly to conceal his laughter and my giggles.
Sandy, being quite the handsome man he was, always opened the car door for me. Every single date we went on, he was the perfect gentleman. Sandy was what most young girls had envisioned when they were growing up, a real knight in shining armor. Her tall, dark, and handsome man and a true gentleman that loved her for all her worth. A man who brought her gifts, teddy bears and flowers, wrote her dozens of love letters and who loved, hugged, and kissed her, all the time.
Sandy opened the car door and let me in and I scooted to the middle to be close to Sandy when he got in, and then we sped away.
The crisp night air was filled with roars of our laughter and the finest love. Sandy and I would drive all over the city and talk for hours, sometimes we would park and kiss and he would feel on me. It started happening more and more, yet each time we parked somewhere new, it became more intense.
I told Sandy I didn’t think we should kiss so much, because he seemed to be getting worked up quite a bit and I was scared he was going to demand more. Sandy promised me it would never lead to more than just kissing with a little groping, and that he could be patient and wait.
We drove circles around our small town that final night before his departure.
Sandy looked at me and said, “Sweetie Bee, you are making me mad. Look at what you do to me every time I see you.”
As he said this, he pointed down towards his private area. I turned fire engine red with embarrassment.
Sandy was turning my mind sideways.
That final night as I was looking at Sandy while we were driving along, Sandy said, “Sweetie, I know you are not going to be committed to me when I leave, I just know it and I know you want to remain a virgin, but…”
(Cutting him off) I said, “Sandy, we don’t need sex. As a sign of our commitment, you know how I feel about having sex before I get married and I don’t want to have a baby. I’m terrified of that! I want to join the Navy when I graduate and get a law degree. I want to become a defense attorney and help the wrongfully accused, it’s always been my dream.”
Besides, I know God will make it special for us on our wedding night when we get married. I love you no matter what!”
Sandy went on and on about how he didn’t believe me, how I had been leading him along this whole time, and how I was going to jump into another man’s arms as soon as he left. He told me he thought I was just teasing him and I would have surely shown him how much I love him by now, especially before he left.
Sandy said, “Having all of you is the ultimate sign that you are committed to me when I leave. It’s the only way I will know that you won’t be with anyone else when I am gone and that you will wait for me until I return.”
Sandy said, “What’s the difference? You know I’m going to marry you as soon as I graduate and come home, so it’s like we’re already married anyway. I would marry you now if your mom and dad would let me.”
I felt so down and convicted, because there was no way I wanted Sandy to feel that way or to leave for California with that kind of doubt about my love for him in his mind, plus I knew Sandy and I would get married. I felt constricted, as if I were trapped in a sweater that was ten sizes too small.
Poor Sandy, I thought, how sad for him to have to feel that way. He will be worrying about me when he is going to be so far away from me and he’s going to marry me anyway, I said to myself. It’s so wrong for me to do this to him, I thought, when all he wants to do is love me.
Sandy said, “The only way I can be sure of your commitment to me Sweetie, is if you go all the way with me tonight.”
Previous to that night, I had asked my mom one day about what she thought about me taking birth control and she absolutely forbade it.
My mom said, “No daughter of mine will be having sex until she is married.”
Therefore, birth control was out, at least from my mother. We lived in a small community and people talked, so I couldn’t get birth control on my own either, or they would have told my parents.
I said, “Sandy, let’s just say I decide to abandon my vow to God for you, look what happened to my parents. They had sex, my mom got pregnant when she was 16 and they had me when they were only 17-years-old. I’m not trying to lead you on, because you knew up front that I didn’t want to have sex until I graduated college and got married. Didn’t I tell you that from the beginning and you told me we could fool around with no pressure from you for sex?”
Sandy said, “Yes, I know Sweetie, but I’m just worried. If you have sex with me, I will know you’re mine, and we’re getting married anyway, so what’s the big deal? It’s the one thing I know no other guy has had with you. Don’t you understand that? I know you will give it away when you fall in love with some other guy when I’m gone.”
I said, “Sandy, I just turned 16 and you are making me crazy. Don’t you know what this is doing to me? I don’t want to lose you to another girl in California who will have sex with you either. It’s not fair, Sandy, it’s just not fair. It’s too much pressure.”
I couldn’t tell if Sandy just wanted to conquer me, if he was full of lust, if he was really worried about another guy stealing me, if he wanted to make sure he was the one who took my virginity, if he was really in love with me or a combination of all of the above.
On that last night, we parked at a church of all places “to talk” deep in the lot behind some trees, while hidden from the prying eyes of the judgmental world. Sandy was set to fly out in the early afternoon that same day, but it was then around three in the morning.
We parked, talked, and listened to music. Both Sandy and I had a great love for music and we were both very open-minded to different styles of music. We loved the Oldies, top ‘40s, and anything and everything that had a tune. It was something we truly had in common.
Sandy flipped through the stations on the radio and stopped on the song “Go All the Way” by the Raspberries when it came on. He opened the car door, jumped out, and then he leaned down and peered back into the car as he stretched out his hand towards me and looked into my eyes.
He shouted, “Come on, Sweetie! Let’s Dance!”
I said, “No, Sandy, you know I can’t dance. I have no coordination at all! I’m so bad that I actually have five left feet. I don’t know how to dance Sandy!”
Sandy was an amazing dancer. He could go fast, slow and everything in between, the guy could really move.
Sandy said, “Come on, Sweetie! Fortunately for you, I do know how to dance, so that means you don’t have to know how, just let me lead!”
Sandy’s hand gripped mine and he snatched me playfully out of my seat. He twirled me around in the middle of the church parking lot as my bare feet dangled above the ground. I usually removed my shoes as soon as I got in the car and I would stick my feet out the window as often as I could. I was country all the way.
As he lifted me in the air and twirled me around, Sandy screamed, “I don’t care who sees us! Look at us world, we are in love!!!!!”
Giggling, I said, “You better hush up before the police come and take us away!”
Sandy held me tightly and sensually, but we were moving quickly as he spun me around in circles around the car and the parking lot. The world was our dance floor. We laughed and danced and danced. I barely had time to worry about where to place my feet we were moving so fast.
We continued to dance and he twirled me in circles as “Into the Night” by Benny Mardones blared from the car speaker of the wagon in the background. When “Into the Night” was finished, a commercial started playing.
Sandy was out of breath, so he put his pointer finger in the air as he sighed, “Hold on a second Sweetie.”
He ran around the car to the front seat and switched the radio off. He popped in the cassette mix tape he made and by The Commodores came up first and it slowed the atmosphere.
Sandy came gliding gracefully across the parking lot back to where I was standing and waiting, my heart holding me up, just out in the open space, and in the theater of our love.
Sandy approached me in a, “oh yeah, it’s time to slow it down baby,” Barry White kind of way.
I said, “No, Sandy, I can’t dance like that. I don’t know how to.”
Sandy said, “Hush,” as he brushed his finger across the crease of my lips.
Sandy lifted me up in the air and off my feet so that we were face to face, but as he slid me down his body and lowered me, he nudged his right foot with his size thirteen Penney Loafer under my freshly painted, pink toenailed left foot.
He did the same with my right foot until I was standing on top of his shoes with both of my bare feet.
Sandy said, “Let me have control, I will take care of everything, trust me.”
I would have trusted him to sell me snakeskin oil from the man on the moon at that point. I didn’t care what he was trying to sell. I was buying it and I was buying all of it. I was so in love that the sun was shining in my eyes, even though it was pitch black outside, with the exception of one dimly lit and very tall church parking lot lamp.
“Still” by Lionel Ritchie chimed through the beautiful night’s air as we hugged and danced closely.
It was so unusual to be dancing while standing on top of someone’s feet, but it worked and we fit together like nobody’s business.
After we danced and danced, Sandy pulled the tailgate down so we could rest. He scooped me up and carried me in his arms to the back of the wagon and helped me to take a seat.
Sandy was such a creative person and he would always think of everything necessary to make a moment right in advance. That night, he had especially thought of ways to make everything go perfectly.
Sandy ran to the front of the car again and flipped the mix tape over he had created and then he quickly returned to the back of the car, where I was still sitting and awaiting his next move. He had already placed blankets and pillows in the back bed of the wagon, and they were laid out perfectly as if for a picnic.
“I brought us something to eat, are you hungry?” Sandy said as he gestured to the basket of food sitting in the back of the wagon, off to the side.
I looked at Sandy and a million things were going through my head. I wasn’t that dumb and I knew where it was all heading. It was spiraling out of control like a blazing fireball headed right to my heart. I was tormented with confusion. I was losing my will to have strength.
“No Sandy, I’m not hungry,” I said as I rose to get off the tailgate and walk a few feet in the opposite direction.
I was standing a few feet away from Sandy, looking at him as he sat down on the back of the tailgate with his legs slightly opened. Sandy reached out for my hand and when I came closer and gave it to him, he drew me in between his legs, close to him.
He said, “Come on Sweetie, I’m not going to bite you!” He nuzzled his face snappishly into my neck, pretending to bite me. I laughed and giggled and screamed, “You lied!”
Sandy then slid his mouth and tongue across my neck until his lips landed on my lips and he started kissing me passionately.
Due to our height difference, it was somewhat difficult to kiss while we were standing, so with Sandy sitting on the tailgate like that and with me standing in between his legs it evened out our differences and we fit together perfectly, so very perfectly.
“Endless Love” by Diana Ross and Lionel Ritchie was playing.
I felt like my heart was a grenade and Sandy had just pulled the pin, because nothing but disaster would soon be coming and I didn’t and couldn’t do anything to stop it. I was beyond helpless at that point. Weak. Defenseless.
“I shouldn’t have ever snuck out and got in that car with him,” I told myself.
My mind was doing backflips with confusion and I knew, but at the same time, I didn’t know what I was doing, why was I allowing this? I screamed inside. However, I could not stop. It was if someone else was lying there.
I asked myself, “What are you doing, what are you doing, you are heading to the point of no return, you know this don’t you?” I couldn’t stop him for so many reasons, I was powerless.
Sandy kissed me from head to toe.
I blocked out any good feeling and I whispered to myself internally through it all, “Please God, don’t strike me down for doing such ungodly things on your territory, please? Why does it have to happen in a church parking lot? Why did I let this happen, here, church??? Here??? A church parking lot? Of all places a church parking lot? Please God, don’t kill me, please God!?”
I could no longer even focus on what was happening, I was dead set like a schizophrenic on worrying about this all happening in a church parking lot. I muttered to myself repeatedly, over and over again for God not to strike me dead where I lay.
Sandy told me he had chosen that lot because it was the only parking lot that had trees all around it, so Sandy felt we wouldn’t get caught. The police would troll the town frequently for unlawful teens just like us, mostly in the parks and school yards and would even arrest them sometimes.
Before that night, I had called up two of the people who were my trustworthy sounding boards at that time, my best cousin and my best friend. When I told my best cousin Trazoli and my best friend Lynney, who had both moved out of town, what Sandy was asking me to do, they both gave me their opinion on the matter.
Being fourteen hours away, my cousin Trazoli said, “Definitely, don’t do it!”
Trazoli told me she had done it and it was not worth it. She told me it didn’t feel anything like I would imagine it to feel like.
I said, “Does it hurt badly, Trazoli?”
Trazoli said, “It hurts like hell!” Then why have you done it so much? I thought to myself, but I didn’t say this to her.
On the other hand, I had my best friend Lynney, who had moved out of the city and was about three hours away and was already having sex as well. I asked her where she was at with me having sex with Sandy and Lynney told me she was kind of neutral on the matter.
Lynney said, “It didn’t hurt me, Sweetie, it was fun for me.”
I said, “Really, Lynney, are you sure?” I had heard both of their stories before a million times, I was just looking and reaching for any guidance to help me.
She said, “Yes, Sweetie, I’m positive!”
I had received two totally different recounts and versions of first sexual experiences, so I didn’t know which way I was going to go. Both of them, however, told me that I needed to make my own decision about it, because it was my life.
Now, I found myself lying in the back of a station wagon with Sandy facing a decision that could change my life and my soul forever. We were both clothed still and Sandy was laying partially on top of me, we were face to face hugging. He was lying to the side, as to not put all of his weight on me.
Sandy raised his head up and looked into my eyes.
He said, “Sweetie, you don’t want to lose me, do you?”
(Crying) I said, “No, but what if I get pregnant, Sandy?”
Softly, Sandy said, “You’re not going to get pregnant. Is that what you are really worried about? Because, trust me, I know what I’m doing, I promise you will not get pregnant!”
Sandy raised my head up as he cupped my chin in his hands and asked, “You trust me, don’t you Sweetie?”
“Tonight I Celebrate My Love” was playing in the background, just perfectly.
Softly, I said, “Yes, Sandy, of course I trust you. You mean everything to me.”
(Still crying tears of a river) I said, “But I don’t want to Sandy, I don’t want to have a baby, I am so confused.” (I felt like I was in a spider web, unable to break free. I felt trapped with emotions and devotion to Sandy. I just didn’t want to lose Sandy)
I whined and said, “Sandy, I keep saying the same thing, I really want to wait until I get married and now I’ve really messed everything up, I’ve already gone too far as it is. I can’t control my feelings!”
As I cried, I was still lying on my back and Sandy was on top of me. He was such a smooth operator. Sandy sweetly kissed my tears away and gave me butterfly kisses, quickly kissing me all over my face, neck, shoulders, ears, eyes and cheeks, but then he stopped kissing me and looked at me directly in my eyes.
He said, “You have to trust me Sweetie! I would never hurt you, okay? I’m not going to get you pregnant.” I nodded my head yes still crying.
He said, “My God Sweetie, you are so beautiful.”
Then it happened. I was immediately condemned to hell for all eternity. I had broken my vow with God to remain a virgin until I was married. The pain was unreal both physically and spiritually, but nothing could ever hurt me like the damage I felt in such magnitude after breaking a vow to God.
Damn it to hell, Trazoli was right!
That was it. The point of no return and I could never ever take it back. In a span of thirty minutes or less, I had sold my soul to the devil, my life was ruined. Over. What a foolish and unworthy decision.
I would never be the same again. I would be a shame before the eyes of God, my pastor, my grandparents, my parents…my brothers, my poor baby brothers. I was a whore before my little brothers and a hussy to all creation. They would all know what I did, as I would wear it like a badge from that day forward.
Sandy finished and I rolled over on my side and cried some more, crossing my arms in front of my chest still both shielding it and comforting myself.
Sandy tried to comfort me by wrapping his arms around me.
I said, “Please just give me a minute Sandy” I spoke weakly, since my body was quivering with shock from the pain. I felt peculiar, and my body had never felt that strangely before.
Sandy said, “Okay Sweetie.”
Sandy pulled the blanket that was draped over my thigh, up to completely cover my body. I grabbed it and pulled it up to my neck, I rocked my body.
I thought to myself, “I can’t believe what I have done. I am a true whore. How could I have betrayed myself, my God, and my parents like that? How could I have been so stupid and weak?” I felt an extreme overabundance of shame. I had destroyed my integrity for a few minutes of pleasure and then a whole lot of pain.
“Killing Me Softly with His Song” was playing in the background. Sandy apologized profusely, but it was too late. It could never be undone. He wrapped his arms around me and he cried with me. Why? I don’t know. Maybe because he knew he had taken part in a lustful act against God, maybe because he felt he had stolen my innocence, or maybe it was because he knew he didn’t love me at all.
It was time for Sandy to take me home, and then he would be flying out in just hours. Sandy laid my head in his lap as he drove me home and rubbed my shoulders, trying to console me. I literally cried all the way home and continued to cry as I crawled back in the window to get into my bed.
I cried more and more until I had no more tears. There is something unspeakable that happens to your mind when you know you cannot undo something horrific you have done. I felt so disgusting, I had broken all of my own rules and standards. None of it was good, none of it could ever be good again.
I dozed off for what felt like about fifteen minutes, but it had been a few hours when my mom came into my room to tell me it was time to take Sandy to the airport.
I heard a sort of murmuring that started out quietly and then it got louder and louder.
My mom said, “Sweetie, wake up…”
“Sweetie, it’s time to get up…”
“Sweetie, wake up!”
When I woke up I started crying again, or had I ever stopped? I felt like I had been crying in my sleep. I didn’t even really feel like saying goodbye to Sandy. I felt embarrassed to even see him again. I knew that having sex with me was what he wanted more than anything, but I felt he would look at me now with disgust and disrespect because I hadn’t stood my ground.
My mom expected for me to cry over Sandy leaving, so it wasn’t a huge concern for her. My mom came over and sat on the edge of my bed, where I was sitting up groggily. She stretched her arm out and wrapped it around my shoulder. I moved away from her, I had utter fear she would be able to smell filth on me.
She said, “I ran your bath for you.”
I said, “Thanks mom, I love you.” (Quickly pulling away from her)
She said, “I love you to. I will help you through this.”
I said, “I know Mom, I know.” (I jumped up off the bed (painfully) trying to avoid hugging my mom for fear she would be able to sniff out the lustful and sinful act Sandy and I had committed only hours prior)
I said, “Let me hurry and get in the bath!” (my voice shaky with tears)
My mom knew I would be sad that Sandy was leaving, but she didn’t know the full story behind my tears. I went to the bathroom and there was blood.
I thought I was dying. After the incident I had with Sandy, I hadn’t paid much attention, because I had been crying so much and then I had fallen asleep. I called my cousin Trazoli and she told me it was normal, she asked me to describe it. She said, yeah that’s normal. However, she told me that she interpreted what I told her to mean that Sandy had not used any protection.
I told Trazoli that couldn’t be true, because Sandy told me he was experienced and he would take care of everything.
I said, “Yeah Trazoli, you must be mistaken. Sandy took care of everything, but I love you and I thank you for all your advice.”
Trazoli said, “Okay, Sweetie, whatever you say. I can tell you’re in love. I love you, bye.”
“That was an absurd comment Trazoli made about Sandy using protection, I mumbled to myself.” (Now, how could she know that from the other side of the country? She is a crazy girl!) I removed all my clothes in the bathroom and I bunched up my undergarments, carefully placing them in my purse.
I placed my right foot into the tub full of nicely heated bath water to test it out. Then I pulled my whole body in and sat down. I felt so dehydrated that I could have guzzled a gallon of water in a second, even the bathwater looked good at that point. I scrubbed myself gently from head to toe.
I put on a new outfit that I picked out and had purchased a few days back. Same style I always wore, except this one was straight legs and a loose fitting button down shirt with the colors black and pink. I wore a pink bow around my ponytail and I had long curly right side bangs.
Sandy told me he had begged his parents to allow me and my family to take him to the airport, so he rode with us. We arrived at the airport an hour early. Sandy and I barely spoke on the way to the airport, because I cried the entire time. I just couldn’t believe his parents were letting us take him to the airport. That really shocked me.
I took the disgusting sex undergarments with me to the airport. They were old anyway, after all I hadn’t planned on showing them to anyone, so they didn’t have to be nice. I put them in a baggy, I had to get rid of them somewhere.
When we arrived at the airport, Sandy asked my mom if he could have a few minutes alone with me. I was so sore walking around that day at the airport, waiting for Sandy to board the plane. Now that Sandy was leaving, I swore to myself I was never going to have sex again, for sure this time, until I was married.
When Sandy and I were alone for a few minutes, Sandy looked at me and kneeled down on one knee.
Sandy said, “Please give me your hand and close your eyes.”
I extended my right hand to Sandy, I felt him grab my left hand instead.
I felt something cold and hard slide onto my ring finger and I figured out that it was a ring.
Sandy said, “Sweetie, you can open your eyes now.”
I looked down at my hand and on my ring finger sat a beautiful ring that had a small, shiny diamond in it.
Sandy said, “This ring is a promise, Sweetie. A promise to let you know that I love you and that I will remain faithful and true to you from here to eternity. Sweetie, will you marry me?”
I said, “How, Sandy, when you are leaving for at least two years?”
Sandy said, “I know, but we can be engaged and then, when I graduate, we will get married.”
I was frozen with fear and I scanned the airport to see if my mom was watching, she would kill us both if she saw Sandy proposing to me.
Sandy looked at me and asked me, “Do you promise the same thing as I promised you, Sweetie? To stay forever faithful to me, even while I’m away to California?”
I said, “Of course, Sandy, you never have to worry about my loyalty to you.”
Sandy stood up straight and hugged me. We embraced for some time. I had mixed feelings for him at that point. I resented him in a way, because I felt if he would not have entered my life, I would have been able to keep my vow to God. However, I had to take responsibility for my own actions. I alone had made the choice to do what I did and it was my fault alone when I made that choice. As I was off in thought, my mom suddenly appeared.
Sandy and I kissed innocently and I cried. Sandy never cried during his departure. I couldn’t tell if he was scared, nervous, didn’t care, or what. The question of marriage was never truly answered.
It was then time for Sandy to depart. Sandy boarded the plane and I started hyperventilating. I watched closely from the huge picture window at the airport. I could see Sandy’s face in the tiny airplane window. He waved bye to me and then looked away.
I ran to the bathroom in the airport near the terminal to calm myself down, so I would stop hyperventilating. I only did that when I was hurt beyond my own understanding. It had happened a few times before that I could remember.
I reached into my purse for a tissue and grasped the sex undergarments. I screamed. I then quickly threw them into the trash can, squealing with disgust at the thought of touching them with my hands, and smashed them down in the stack of paper towels already in there.
I rapidly washed my hands and dried them. My mom was like a super detective, she would know something happened for sure if she got a hold of them. I had already missed my period for three months, so she may wonder why I was bleeding all of the sudden. ***See end of book for more information on the history behind the missed periods.
My mom popped in the bathroom door, since she never let me far out of her watchful eyes, especially in a public place. One of my mom’s greatest fears was someone would try to take me away.
Mom said, “Come Sweetie, let’s go home.”
I said, “Okay, mom, okay.”
I was crying so badly on the way home from the airport that I couldn’t even see the road while my mom was driving.
My mom said, “Oh honey, are you going to be okay?” She turned to look at me in the back seat. I couldn’t even talk, so I just nodded my head yes. I felt my heart snapping into a million pieces. I was shaking so badly and it felt like an elephant was sitting on my heart. I had never felt such a deep-hearted pain down in my soul, I could not breathe.
My mom said, “I know you’re sad, but you have got to calm down.”
I was still, crying and I was losing control. My head shook from side to side as if I were saying no aggressively, my chest swelled, my nose clogged, and my breathing was shallow and sporadic. A Tsunami of emotions aggressively taking hold, I couldn’t breathe.
My mom quickly pulled the car to the side of the road, ran up on the curb, flung her car door open, and rushed to get in the back seat with me. I had sat back there to be alone with my thoughts.
I had a problem with hyperventilating ever since I was a child, which is the reason I never liked to cry. Lately, I had been such a cry baby. I had done more crying in those few months than I had done my entire life.
Cyndi Lauper’s, “Time After Time” was playing. I felt as if my life was one big record, and that music could sweep me deep into another world far away from the cares of this one. I can truly recall my whole life’s story by what song was playing in the background at that exact moment.
I thought to myself, “My heart is literally going to explode from all the pressure I am feeling.” My mom hugged me and stroked my back.
She said, “There, there, there, there, calm down. You’ve got to calm down. You’re okay. You will be okay, I am with you. I’m here for you, I love you. Come on Sweetie, Come on.” (Stroking my hair and back, her cheek pressed against mine)
I have the best mother in the world. The most loving and kind mother in the world. My mom used to whoop our asses, but I never looked at that in a bad way, I look at that as she was raising us to be decent human beings.
Mom is the best and she always will be. I finally got out of the danger zone and took it down to a sniffle and a whimper.
I literally cried for the next week straight it hurt so badly. It was absolutely a life altering moment for me. I felt like I had become somewhat of a woman, more grown and more mature, but it was time to move on with my life. I was going to graduate high school, go into the Navy and become a criminal defendant attorney.
Sandy and I called each other once each week, but that did not seem to be enough. The calls were very expensive and Sandy wasn’t working in California, so he didn’t have any money. He said he couldn’t work because he needed all of his free time for his singing group and college. I spent every penny I made on phone calls and the phone bill so Sandy could call me collect.
Sandy sent me a tape in the mail he had made. It had some nice songs on it including, Chicago’s “Will You Still Love Me”, “Send Her Your Love” by Stevie Wonder, “I’d Really Love to See You Tonight” by Dan Seals, “Hard to Say I’m Sorry” by Chicago, and “Overjoyed” by Stevie Wonder.
I became preoccupied with speaking to Sandy. Sandy told me he really wanted to talk with me too, but wasn’t sure how to make it happen. An acquaintance of mine from school called me one day and told me about this thing her friend taught her from New York. It was a scam where you could charge your phone calls to someone else’s line, they would dispute it, and, in the end, nobody would have to foot the bill.
I was running out of money from my job at the department store. They didn’t pay me enough to keep calling Sandy every night. She told me to just call the phone operator and do the following.
“Say: ‘Hi, I would like to charge this call to my home number.’ Then, give the operator any fake number and give them the number I was trying to call and they would connect me.”
So Sandy and I talked this way for about two months, then one day I got a call from the phone company and they asked to speak to my mom, but I pretended I was her instead.
They told me they suspected a scam from our telephone number. I told them I would handle the situation, but my mom eventually found out and banned me from the phone. Then I couldn’t talk to Sandy at all. That was until one day when I was at my dad’s mom’s house and I was desperate to speak to Sandy. I hadn’t spoken to him in weeks.
I remembered the scam and asked my grandma to use her phone, I didn’t think they would figure me out if I was calling from a different phone number. I began to call Sandy every time we went to my grandma’s house. Everything was going smooth for a while until my mom got a call from my grandma.
My grandma knew it was me when the phone company called, because I had suddenly been using her phone every time I visited. The phone company tried to make her pay the $120 bill, which was a large amount of money back then.
My dad was devastated and hurt that I would do that to his beloved mother. My grandmother loved me so much and would never do anything to harm anyone.
I felt so guilty, I really cared about hurting her, but I was just going crazy without Sandy.
Of course, I worked hard to repay every penny to my grandma and grandpa and I was grounded off the phone for pretty much eternity and confined to writing letters, but there was nothing like hearing Sandy’s voice, hearing him laugh, and listening to him serenade me.
Sandy started writing me letters and they were not good, he had been gone a few months at that point. He started to tell me stories about drinking with girls he met in college and them getting drunk, sitting on his lap, and kissing him.
The one day Sandy did call, and my brothers snuck me the phone, he asked me to hold for a minute while he got the door at his house. He stayed off the phone for over ten minutes while I was on hold, but when he returned to the phone, he told me it was just a girl he had been hanging out with the night before, returning his jacket he had loaned her.
Sandy went on about how it smelled like her perfume. I had never known jealousy before, but it was surfacing in my blood. Sandy started calling me more all of the sudden and each time he would tell me about all these rendezvous with these different college girls.
I was still a junior in high school. It was funny how he never had the time to call me before, but now he made the time to call me with these stories of other girls. I was only 16-years-old.
I didn’t have half the brain to figure out his intentions. He was playing head games on me, and I didn’t know if he thought it was cool to make me jealous, if he thought he was being funny, or if he just didn’t care about hurting me.
I quit taking Sandy’s calls, because I needed time to process things, but he continued writing me crazy letters about all these girls he was fooling around with, who would French kiss him and do other sexual acts but, of course, it was all out of his control.
He would never admit to having sex with them, but he was always telling me he was flirting with them.
The last letter I received and opened from him at that point was a letter from Sandy and, in this letter, he was telling me how his friend and he were riding around enjoying the sights in California and they ended up at this park.
Sandy said him and his buddy, who was the driver, had picked up a couple of girls who were hitchhiking in a state park and they just rode around drinking beer having fun. He then went on to tell me how this girl jumped on his lap and began kissing and groping him. Then how she took her shirt and bra off and rubbed her Chi Chi’s in his face.
That did it for me. I was done with Sandy. I didn’t want any part of someone who would want to make me feel badly. I told Sandy that kind of stuff hurt me and I considered it being unfaithful while I was being absolutely, one hundred percent devoted to him and how I felt he wasn’t treating me the same way.
I placed all of his letters, bears, gifts, trinkets, and everything else he had given me in a suitcase and sealed it tight and locked it away.
Sandy called me a few times after that, but he lost interest in me when he discovered I was no longer getting jealous by his maneuvers. So, we just quit talking to each other. About four months after his departure for Cali, I wrote him a letter breaking up with him and I sent the ring he gave me at the airport, back to him.
There was a boy I went to school with at Lincoln High named Robby and he flirted with me every day, he would stick flowers, stuffed animals, and letters in my locker. He talked my locker mate into letting him do this when I wasn’t around. I just ignored him, because I thought he was charming and all, but I still wasn’t quite over Sandy.
Besides, Robby was one of the state’s leading high school basketball player and all the colleges wanted him, so did all the girls. I didn’t have any place in my life for another Sandy or any boy who would turn out to be like Sandy.
I got a random letter out of the blue from Sandy one day and in this letter Sandy wrote: “Have any boys asked you out at school?” He also wrote all these random jealous questions like he still owned my heart.
I wrote back: “As a matter of fact, I am dating someone else and I’m having sex with him too.” I wasn’t, but Sandy didn’t need to know that. Sandy was furious, he still had a bunch of cronies at Lincoln High and he sent them to threaten Robby, but Robby was 6ft. 7in. and he was “Shaq” huge, with his own crew and he could fight his own battles.
It just made Robby pursue me even more. Sandy continued to write me and he tried to control from the other side of the country. I ignored him, so he would have his friends approach me at school and give me threatening messages from him.
They would come up to me and corner me in a threatening manner saying things like Sandy said to tell you that you are still his girl and you better not ever date or touch any other man or we will kick his ass.
Robby ended up scaring all of Sandy’s cronies away from me, and that was the end of that. They didn’t want anything to do with Robby and his oversized crew comprised of the schools top athletes.
I was still working and in J.R.O.T.C. I also planned to go into the Navy upon graduation and use that to help with schooling, so I could go to college, be the first in my family to graduate and become a criminal defense attorney.
I started going to Robby’s basketball games and we started dating. We went to the mall on my days off and went riding around and talking a lot. My mom encouraged it, because she just loved Robby and still loathed Sandy.
There was a new movie coming out, but Robby could only see it on a school night with his busy schedule. I asked my Mom a week in advance for permission to go. She finally granted me special permission. It was December, a Monday, and I remember this day because it was my middle brother Michael’s birthday. I asked Michael if he minded if I went to the movies with Robby even though it was his birthday.
Michael told me I had been sad for so long that he was just happy to see me smiling again. It had been four grueling months that felt like twenty since Sandy left and over a month since I had spoken with him. I kissed Michael on the cheek, told him thanks, and that I would make it up to him by buying him something he really wanted.
I was all set and I had my mother’s approval, as well as Brother Michael’s okay too! So Robby and I set off for the movies. I couldn’t wait to get there. I had been waiting for the movie with Eddie Murphy to come out. My friends and I were supposed to go see it. We all loved comedies, but going with Robby was a treat for me.
As we drove along route to the movies the snow began to softly fall and it glistened the road like tiny little slivers of diamonds. It was so pretty and there was a beautiful song playing on the radio. It was “Never Gonna Let You Go” by Sergio Mendes, so I was just relaxing in my seat, feeling comfortable again for the first time again since Sandy and I had unofficially split.
Robby said, “Hey, Sweet-Sweet, (that’s what he called me sometimes) I have an idea, let’s skip the movie and go to the lake and hang out.”
I said, “No way, I’m not getting in trouble. My Mom will find out anyway, she is going to ask me every detail of what the movie was about.”
Robby said, “No need to worry, I’ve already seen the movie.”
I gave him a disapproving look.
Robby said, “I’m sorry, my parents forced me to go watch it with them last night.”
I said, “So where do they think you are tonight?”
Robby said, “With you. Don’t worry, let’s have fun talking at the lake, I can tell you all the details of the movie while we are talking and then you can tell your mom what the movie is about.”
I said, “Robby, I don’t like lying to my parents. I did that enough with Sandy.”
Robby gave me a sweet look and said, “Come on, for me, please?” I said, “Okay, just this once, but no hanky panky, just talking.”
I wasn’t too worried about it, because it was snowing so that pretty much counted out Robby trying to get me to have sex with him outside at a park or something. Plus Robby was like 6ft. 7in. 250 pounds and that pretty much counted out us trying to have sex in his small Honda.
Robby said, “I promise, we won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”
I had heard about some sports players being rapists and not listening when a girl said no. So that fear was in the back of my mind the whole time, but Robby turned out to be super sweet, cool, and a gentleman that was true to his word.
So we went to Christmas Lake and parked. The snow had started falling pretty much the second we left my house, so when we got to the lake, it was just picture perfect. I had told my Mom we would be grabbing a bite to eat after we left the movies, so we had a little extra time to relax.
The lake had a perfect blanket of blissful whiteness and you could barely tell where the water met the earth; it was God’s perfection. To this day, I have never seen snow glisten like it did that night. It was like diamonds were shining everywhere.
It was a soft snow, because it wasn’t very cold out. Robby’s car had a hatchback, so he fixed it up so that we could lay down on our backs with our heads resting at the edge of the hatchback while we were looking up to the sky.
We stuck our tongues out and caught snowflakes as we laughed and talked. I told him about Sandy and I cried. Robby hugged me and told me he really cared about me and that he had secretly loved me from afar for some time.
I felt so vulnerable at that point, my mind, flooded with emotions, but I didn’t really have any feelings for Robby.
Robby said, “Can I please kiss you?”
I said, “Yes”.
We kissed and it was nice, for he was a good kisser with soft lips that were sweet, and his breath smelled good.
I knew what was getting ready to happen, I felt it in my mind, my body, and my soul. I told myself that I was already ruined anyway, so it was just one more time. After all Sandy had already done it to me and with other girls, so I deserved to let another man touch me. I really had just stopped caring anymore.
Robby had a condom this time though and it did hurt, but not as much as the first time. The experience was quicker, but it was more sweet and gentle, not like the first time.
Yet, kind of boring. Not because of Robby, just because I loved Sandy. Robby was one of the top three most decent men I had ever met.
There wasn’t much foreplay outside of talking, listening to music.
The song “The Next Time I Fall” by Peter Cetera and Amy Grant was playing on the radio. It couldn’t have been more perfect. The lyrics were, “the next time I fall in love it will be with you.”
Well I guess my theory on Robby not being able to be in a position to have sex in his car because of his height was out the window. I still can’t remember how he got his tall legs around those seats in that tiny car. I put my pants back on the second Robby was done. I never took my shirt off. I wondered if Robby was a virgin. I found it hard to imagine he was, but it almost seemed like he could be.
Afterwards, Robby and I talked and looked out on the lake. “Shake You Down” by Gregory Abbot was on the radio, but it wasn’t one of my favorites. Robby was telling me about his family, because he was adopted by people of another race. We talked about school, sports, and life in general.
Robby rose and leaned towards me, we were both still on our backs, he put his hand behind my neck and tilted my head up towards his so we were facing each other.
Robby said, “Sweet-Sweet, will you start dating me? I want you to be my girl and only my girl. I will be faithful and dedicated to you, I promise.”
I had heard that before. I looked at Robby and just paused, I couldn’t say anything. I really wasn’t interested at all, but I was worried about hurting his feelings.
Robby said, “Listen, Sweet-Sweet, I know you have been hurt and you may need some time to get adjusted, I understand that.”
I said, “Okay. Yes Robby, I will be your girl.”
I don’t know why I told Robby that. The whole time I was at the lake I was thinking about Sandy, visualizing how perfect it would have been if he would have been there holding me. It was so peculiar, I then had a flood of hateful emotions for Sandy come over me. My feelings were so mixed.
I was worried though, because a lot of girls, almost all the girls at Lincoln High, would have died to have a shot at Robby. I felt selfish for taking someone I didn’t really want. Robby was the epitome of a rebound for me.
Robby and I turned onto our stomachs. We were laying side by side. The snow was still softly peddling its way to the ground as it collected onto the grass and beaches around the lake. A deer family approached near Robby’s car and we were as quiet as a mouse so as not to disturb them. It looked like a mother, father, and two fawns.
They frolicked across the freshly fallen snow leaving their prints, marking up God’s canvas.
It was as if they didn’t have a care in the world. One of us made a noise and the entire family sprinted off into the distance, but never from my mind. It was such a beautiful scene.
Robby took me home and I ashamedly lied to my mom again. This was becoming a horrible habit that I needed to break soon, so I decided from that moment on that I would turn a new leaf and do the right thing. No more lies, no more deception, with only honesty and truths from there on out.
Almost two weeks after our rendezvous at the lake, Robby missed school, so I stopped by his house to see how he was doing during lunch time. He answered his door in some shorts and started walking back downstairs to his bedroom. I followed him; I had never seen his bedroom before. He got back into bed.
I said, “Wow Robby, you look really sick, but I brought you some soup and 7-up. Do you need me to bring you anything else or do you want me to make you the soup?”
Robby said, “No I just need to rest, but my back hurts, can you rub it?”
I said, “Of course.”
I started slowly massaging Robby’s back.
I asked Robby, “Did that help?”
He turned over and said, “My chest burns, can you rub it too?”
Next thing you know he was kissing me and we had sex again.
I told Robby, “You are just terrible! You’re supposed to be sick and resting! You tricked me, was that all to get me here to seduce me?”
I was just teasing Robby, he really was very sick, just not too sick for a little lovin’.
Fully dressed again, I lay in the bed beside him, with my head on his chest. Robby touched my face gently with both hands.
He looked at me sincerely and he said, “I’m really falling for you Sweet-Sweet.”
I didn’t know what to say, I had just jumped from one relationship right into the next. I began confusing my feelings for Sandy with my feelings for Robby.
I was trying to make Robby be Sandy and to make me feel like Sandy had made me feel, but it really wasn’t working. Sandy was so romantic and he made me feel like a million dollars when he was here with me. Not Robby, or anyone else, could take his place.
I had prayed and dreamed that having sex and a relationship with Robby would erase Sandy from my life, my mind, and my body. Robby got dressed and took me back to school since I had walked miles to get to his house.
It was the next morning after me and Robby’s escapades and I was taking a bath and getting ready for school. I was singing and beaming with joy and happiness for the first time in months. It had been over four months since Sandy left and I felt like I was finally free of him in my heart.
My mom heard me singing and she came into the bathroom to get ready and see what it was all about while I was bathing, as she often did, for we had a close relationship.
Mom said, “So what are you so happy about Sweetie Bee, are you falling for Robby, huh? You know you have to be careful of those sports players, they have one thing in mind!” (She put her makeup on (a light coat of mascara) in the large rectangle bathroom mirror)
I laughed and said, “Maybe, but we will see in time.”
I stood up in the bathtub and said, “Can you hand me my towel Mom?
Mom grabbed my towel and spun around to hand me the towel.
She gasped and held her heart.
She said, “Oh my God, Sweetie Bee, you are pregnant!”
I said, “What!?”
She said, “Oh my God, look at your stomach!”
I looked down, there was a small bulge, but I figured I just gained some of the 15 pounds back I had lost over the Sandy ordeal.
Growing up when I was little I would always ask my Mom how babies got into women’s tummies and she would tell me from kissing.
So my Mom said, “Oh my God Sweetie Bee, how did this happen?”
I said (sarcastically), “From kissing Mom, I guess from kissing.” I really didn’t know the full grasp of what was happening or what my mom had just said.
My mom cupped my naked stomach and she said, “I will always be here for you, no matter what. I will help you until the end.”
We both cried.
As I said before, missing my period was nothing unusual to me. I had missed it for months at a time ever since I started my menstruation. I honestly didn’t have any idea I was pregnant though. I just thought I was gaining weight back on my stomach that I lost.
I never did have morning sickness at all, but I did have heartburn like a fire dragon was living down in my throat in the later months. The older folks told me that meant my baby would have a full head of curly hair.
I thought about things, and the reality was not g
-ood for me. The amount of months I had been pregnant only meant one thing. Sandy was the father of my child. Why him, out of everyone on the earth, why him? I was definitely pregnant, five months by the time I got to the doctor, shortly after that meeting in the bathroom with Mom.
How could I have gone from being in R.O.T.C. as a leader with dreams, taking special classes for college- to this? In four short months, I was going to be a mother. Not just a mother, a mother to a child whose father was gone. It was surreal to me and I continuously felt like I was in someone else’s body and living another person’s life. It surely couldn’t be mine and the hell was only beginning. It hadn’t even started yet. The cruelness and torture I had once suffered in my youth was about to resurface on a whole different level than I had ever experienced before.
I paid my little brother Shawn to jog with me every morning, because I had put on about ten pounds and being 16-years-old, I thought that the harder I worked out, the more the weight that would come off and then I wouldn’t show my pregnancy as much.
It was hard, since I was spiraling faster than lightening towards an adult life, and I still had, in many ways, the mind of a child or a teen at least.
The crazy thing was, I didn’t know a girl in hardly any of my circles, who had not lost her virginity at the age of twelve or thirteen. It seemed to be a common age. The problem was, many of the girls’ parents had already given them birth control pills or they would take them to have abortions if they ended up pregnant. None of that was a reality in the world I lived in and about.
I was truly naïve enough to believe that I could work out and work the baby weight right off me.
I started questioning my own mind, how could I not have known I was pregnant? What kind of fool would not know they were pregnant and four months at that? I started to freak out and panic set in.
I didn’t know what I was going to do. I knew one thing and that was that I wasn’t going to keep it! No way! I was a Platoon Leader in J.R.O.T.C. the Naval division, I was the president of the accounting club at school. I loved running track and I was very fast. It seemed like I finally was getting control over my illness and now this?
How could I have been so stupid? I had to have been the dumbest person on earth to trust Sandy when he told me that I wouldn’t get pregnant.
Nobody in my family on either side had graduated college, maybe some far distant cousins somewhere, I wanted to be the first. There had only been a handful or less that had graduated or even been to high school.
My plan? Destroyed!
My self-esteem plummeted, I had none. My virtue? Gone!
College was out now, I wasn’t even worthy to attend college. My dreams of being the first from both of my families to graduate college was gone.
I hated Sandy! Now, a little alien growing inside me? I didn’t even like kids! A little vermin crumbsnatcher sucking the blood out of me? He did this to me! He destroyed me! I trusted him!
No… I did this to me…I had to take responsibility.
My mom was really nice and sweet to me, so at least I had that.
I thought everything was cool until one day after school, when we walked into my house, my Mom walked into the front room and straight towards the phone.
I heard my mom yelling, “Your son got my daughter pregnant and I want to know what your family intends to do about it?”
I felt my heart fall to the floor.
Was she aware these people didn’t even know me?
Was she aware that Sandy didn’t even know I was pregnant yet?
Was she aware that I just found out myself?
“Oh God! How can this be happening and why?” I pleaded quietly.
That started the war between my parents and Sandy’s parents, or at least between our two Moms as our Dads sat back and minded their own business. I got a call from Sandy a few days later.
Sandy said, “What’s going on Sweetie, I got a call from my Mom?”
I said, “Well I guess she told you, I tried to call and write you, but your phone number and address changed and my letters were returned.”
Sandy said, “I know, I had to move in with some girls into their apartment since the guy I was staying with kicked me out.”
I said, “Okay.”
Sandy said, “What are you going to do?”
I said, “What do you mean? What choice do I have? You got me pregnant! I don’t have a choice anymore in the matter, I blew my chance to have a choice when I made the decision to have sex with you! It was the worst mistake of my entire life! My life is ruined!”
Sandy said, “I will help you, don’t worry. I know it’s my fault and you trusted me.”
I screamed, “That’s easy for you to say! You are in college! Now, my dream of going to college is over! I will never be able to go to college! I am finished!”
Sandy said, “Here is the plan, you stay there and have the baby and when I graduate college in four years I will come back and help you raise the baby. You don’t need to worry about college anymore, we have a family now.”
I yelled, “I can’t believe this, I am 16-years-old and you would leave me here alone to have a baby by myself? You did this to me Sandy! You did this to me!”
No, in reality, I really did it to myself by making the wrong choices, but I was angry and I wanted to take it out on someone else, because thinking about my own stupidity was too overwhelming.
Sandy said, “I can’t quit college Sweetie Bee! I will help you and have my mom and dad help support you and the baby until I get back.”
I knew that was a damn lie and a pipe dream, Sandy wasn’t even working and he was living in a household with a bunch of college chicks. His mom and dad were supporting him and they hated the ground I walked on. Them? Help me? Yeah, right! At least, his mom hated me. I’m not sure about his dad.
Sandy said, “When is the baby coming?
I said, “June 13th.” In my mind, I thought, “Never, if I can help it!”
Sandy said, “I just might make it back in time for him to be born, school gets out for break around that time and I will come back, so don’t worry about it. I will be back in time.”
I didn’t believe him, but I didn’t know what else to do and what else to feel. I had no other choice but to have the baby on my own as single teenage girl. It was difficult for me coming from a long line of long term marrying folks on both sides. I felt like I was a shame to my family. There were no single and unwed women in my family at that time. Actually, there was one, but she lived in another state.
I went through so many emotions and my brain felt like it would implode. I had never been so confused.
In the meantime, I had to break the news to Robby.
Robby asked, “Is it mine?”
I cried on Robby’s shoulder, or stomach I should say, as my mouth was at his chest/stomach since he was so tall.
I said, “No Robby, it’s impossible, it can’t be yours, I am way too far along, besides you used protection.”
I just couldn’t get over the fact that I had become such a cry baby.
Robby said, “Sweetie, don’t worry about it, I will marry you and claim the baby as my own.”
I said, “What, Robby? What?”
He said, “I’m serious, nobody has to know when we truly got together, we can do this.”
I said, “Robby, I appreciate you and I respect your offer, but you have a huge future, you’re going to college, maybe even the NBA. You are so talented and you are one of the greatest guys I’ve ever known on this earth, but I can’t do that to you, I just can’t.”
Robby said, “Don’t decide now, please just take some time to think about it.”
I said, “Okay, I will. Thank you for being there for me. But I can never have sex with you again, I hope you know that?”
Robby said, “I love you, Sweetie.”
I said, “I love you too, Robby.”
I decided the baby wasn’t going away; I had to accept it.
Robby walked around the halls at school, letting people know he wasn’t ashamed to be with me. He waited until we got in front of the snobby girls and he would bend way over and kiss my stomach while rubbing it affectionately. Yelling, “This is my baby everybody!” The girls would huff and puff and snort as they scurried away. They all loved Robby and wanted to be his girl, but they hated the fact that he loved me.
I wasn’t sleeping at all and my heart was shredding as it unraveled more and more every day. I felt disgusting being in a relationship with a man, while being pregnant with another man’s baby in my belly, even if there was no sex involved. I never touched Robby again sexually, after I found out I was pregnant.
Yet, I still felt filthy and vile. It went against everything I wanted to be. I had to break it off with Robby. I couldn’t do it anymore, because there was no way I could ever stand to ruin Robby’s life. No way, I cared for him way too much as a human being. Way too much! When you love someone, you don’t hurt them, not intentionally, no matter what! I could not bear the shame of walking hand in hand with a man, while pregnant by another.
I met with Robby the next day at school for lunch. I said, “Robby, you have been here for me through and through, but I have another man’s baby in my belly.”
Robby said, “I know and I’m fine with that.”
I said, “I know Robby, but I’m not. I already feel like the biggest slut this side of the Pecos and everyone knows this child is Sandy’s, they do Robby. I have to break up with you and I don’t want you to get hurt any more than this may be hurting you now.”
Robby said, “No Sweetie, I can’t accept that. Come and meet my parents, I want to tell them that I am going to marry you.”
Robby said, “Please, for me?”
I said, “Robby, please don’t do this to me, I cannot bear it anymore, I feel like I’m losing my mind. I don’t think that’s a good idea. Do you have any idea how your parents will react? They will kill me and hate me, and then kill me again!”
I didn’t want to go at all; however, I felt like I owed Robby at least that much, he had been in my corner from day one.
As Robby rubbed my stomach, he bent way over and kissed my baby bump, he screamed, “My baby.” (Still tormenting the girls in the hallway sticking their noses up at me) He laughed out loud.
Continuing, while still bent over, to the baby, Robby whispered, “I will love you baby. I will raise you as my own, I love you little baby.”
I took Robby’s hand off my stomach, pushed him away and hurried away from him down the hall at school, upset.
He yelled, “Please Sweetie come with me!”
I yelled back, “Okay… I will be there.”
Christmas had come and gone without an occurrence. I got lots of gifts for the baby at Christmas and several people from our church had donated maternity clothes to me. I had picked up double shifts at Gordo’s during the Christmas season and made a lot of money on overtime.
I was able to purchase hundreds of dollars’ worth of unisex items for the baby since I didn’t know the gender yet. Cribbing, bottles, diapers, etc. All yellow, white, pale green and pale blue. Sandy’s parents never wanted anything to do with me or the baby and they wouldn’t dream of giving me a dime to help out.
It was still Christmas break and I was making the long trek to Robby’s house to meet with him and his parents. I had been a few days since Christmas had passed. I had to take two buses and then it was still over two miles on foot, in a bad snowstorm. I told him I had a ride. I wanted to walk to clear my head though. In many ways, I was hoping to freeze to death and die so that I could be free from all the pain, as selfish as I was feeling, it was the truth.
I walked extra slow. I shouldn’t have though, since it was freezing and I was visibly pregnant to the world. On the way there, more than one car stopped, pulled over to the side of the road near me, and asked me if I wanted a ride, but when I refused, they told me I shouldn’t be walking alone in the snow and pregnant.
People were nosy back then, so a couple of the women looked at my face and judgmentally asked me, “Why, how old are you?” I lied and said, “I’m twenty-one and my husband is coming, but he got off work late.” The one woman looked at me and laughed and said, “Well, I’m sorry, you look like your 12-years-old honey.” I felt saying my husband was coming would help them leave me alone.
I told them I was okay and I was almost to my destination, where I would meet my husband. I was at least a mile away, but I needed to think still. I looked down at the fluffy triple thick purple and white splattered sweatshirt, purple riveted stretched pants, and black boots I was wearing and they were quickly collecting a thick layer of snow. As was my right-side curly bangs and up- down ponytail.
I thought back to earlier that morning, when my baby brother Shawn had come running into my room.
Shawn said, “Sweetie Bee! Sweetie Bee! Hurry, hurry, come quickly, come on now,” grabbing my hand, dragging me along.
I said, “What Shawny? I’m tired, I worked all night. I need my sleep, kid, I’m going to visit Robby’s family later today.”
Shawn said, “Trust me sissy, you will want to see this.”
I snatched up my kitty Pooky off the bed and held him in my arms. I sluggishly let Shawny drag me by my elbow to the front door, yawning, rubbing my eyes, my hair all over my head. He yanked open the front door with excitement.
I said, “Calm down Shawny, geez.”
Shawn said, “Look Sweetie,” as he pointed to the pile of presents that were scattered all over the door stoop. They were everywhere, and whoever put them there did it to make sure I would have no choice but to pick them up, because there was no room to walk.
There were at least 20 presents on the stoop all with my name. There were items for me and the baby, lots of them, but there wasn’t any card to say who they were from. There were designer maternity outfits, fancy bags of expensive stuff and I had no idea who they were from.
I called everyone I knew and asked them, but my parents and brothers didn’t know. I had my brothers ask neighbors, but nobody knew where they came from. I asked Robby, but they didn’t come from him either. I thought, “These had to come from Sandy or more likely Sandy’s parents.” I told Shawn to leave the bags there on the step and not to touch them.
Shawn squealed, “But, Sissy, I want to open them!”
I told him, “Do what you want, throw them away for all I care! Just leave me alone!”
I had gone back in the house to get dressed so I could head to Robby’s house. We were still on winter break from school.
We had a heavy snow coming, and I had outgrown most of my clothes, my belly was growing rapidly.
Shawn, burst into my room saying, “Look at this Sweetie, nice sweater, huh?” He danced around my body chanting, “Nice sweater, and nice clothes.” I threatened to kill him and started to chase him, he threw the sweatshirt on my bed, as he escaped for his life.
I sat down on the bed and pulled the sweatshirt onto my lap, it was really cute. I really didn’t have anything nice to wear, my clothes were so tight. It seemed like my belly had doubled overnight. I had spent all my money on baby clothes and supplies for the baby.
I had no choice but to wear some of the clothes that had been left on the stoop. Actually, the clothes couldn’t have come at a better time. I was going to cancel because I had nothing to wear.
I wore one of the gift sets, the fluffy soft, purple and white swirled sweatshirt to keep warm and purple stretch pants to match, with the boots. Whoever left the presents knew I loved purple. Purple, pink and blue were my favorite colors.
I told Shawn to leave the rest of the presents on the step. I didn’t want anything from Sandy’s family since they had treated me like dirt.
The sweatshirt only highlighted my growing bulge, but I didn’t care, it was cold out. I told myself, I had to wear the clothes out of necessity. I arrived at Robby’s adopted parents’ house. A newer white split foyer home; needless to say, I was not welcomed with open arms.
Both Robby’s mom and dad let me know they forbade me to be in any part of Robby’s life the second I took a seat, and it was understandable to me. I sat in a chair by the door, Robby stood, and his parents took a seat on a sofa.
From time to time, Robby would take a seat on the blue flowered matching loveseat, and then he would get back up and stand nervously. I couldn’t be upset. I wouldn’t want my son to have any part with a girl like me. Who could blame them? I only hoped Robby would listen to them.
They barely let Robby speak and they told him if he continued to talk to me they would disown him, take his car from him, and take a bunch of other stuff too. They made it clear, in a long drawn out conversation, that I was not pregnant with his baby and the baby’s real father needed to step up and take care of his own child, I agreed with every word they spoke.
By that time, it was on the verge of a blizzard outside and they didn’t even want Robby to give me a ride home.
Robby’s mom said, “I think you better call your parents and have them come and pick you up now!”
My mom and dad weren’t home yet, so I had to wait. It was the longest and most uncomfortable wait of my life. Sitting there with those people, I uneasily patted the arm of the chair I was sitting in while rocking my leg ferociously. There wasn’t anything wrong with them, yet it was painful. I felt relieved, because I didn’t want to destroy Robby’s life, but at the same time, it was devastating, I also didn’t want to hurt Robby.
I had gone from being a highly respected and admired young woman with a promising future to the bottom of the barrel and the scum of the earth. All from a horrible choice to take part in a sexual act against God that lasted less than 15-30 minutes.
All those people who once looked at me with admiration now looked at me with content and disgust, like they were going to spit in my face at any minute.
I was at rock bottom and hated how having a baby inside of me made people treat me. All of that because I was an idiot and made the wrong choice, 15 minutes it took, or less, and a lifetime of misery followed shortly after. Nothing in life can compare to the consequences of a decision like that, except something like murder. It’s the only thing that comes close.
Although I knew Robby’s feelings would be hurt for a while, it wouldn’t be the same as hurting, damaging, and destroying his life by pinning a baby on him when he was due to be an NBA star, it just wasn’t right. What if what I did prevented him from living his dreams? I couldn’t bear the thought of that. No way, no how.
I spoke to Robby’s mom as we all waited anxiously for one of my parents to arrive, her name was Linda, his dad Bob, Linda and Bob White.
I said, “Mrs. White, when I got involved with Robby, I honestly didn’t know I was pregnant. I would never trick or deceive anyone with something this serious. I know you don’t know me, but I’m not that kind of person.”
I tried to say more and come up with something else to help them understand the situation, but I felt I didn’t have enough time or words to explain, it was so complicated that no matter what came out of my mouth, they were going to think of me and view me as a disgusting slut, no matter what and that was just that!
I said, “Mr. and Mrs. White, Robby has a huge heart and when he was made aware of my situation he wanted to step up, but I did strongly encourage Robby to break free of me.”
They both gawked at me sternly.
I said, “One final thing Mrs. White, you don’t have to worry about me anymore. I promise both you and Mr. White that I will never speak with your son again, I know he will probably be chosen to go into the NBA and I would never want to interfere with that okay, just so you know where I stand?”
I thought that would bring them some relief and they would think differently of me, but both Mr. and Mrs. White looked at me meanly with repugnance and didn’t say anything in reply.
Robby quickly ran over to me and dropped to his knee, he said, “Sweet-Sweet, will you marry me, please say yes, please,” he got the ring out of the black box and tried to swiftly place it on my finger.
My eyes bulged to the point they almost popped out of my head. I was thinking, “Oh my God, his mom and dad are going to kill him dead.” His mom jumped up off the sofa and ran over to Robby and knocked the ring, box and all, to the floor. I just wanted to leave, I wanted to be anywhere but there.
Mrs. White turned to Robby and said, “Robby, go to your room right now!”
Robby, looking like a giant man, yet only a newly turned 18-year-old kid, said, “But I want to marry her Mom.”
He protested, but they sent the almost 7 foot potential NBA player marching on down to his room to the lower level of the house.
It was a serious matter, but I loved and adored how much Robby respected his parents. I have a serious thing about being respectful to parents and adults, which was all a part of what made me adore Robby even more. This big strong, normally super tough guy, being so respectful, it was sweet and enduring.
Back to reality, I was stuck there, alone with them, mortified. I didn’t know what else to say.
But his parents sure did, well at least Mrs. White did.
Mrs. White looked at me and said, “We never ever want to see you again! Don’t you even think about coming to our house, don’t even think about coming anywhere near or close to our son again! Don’t you ever call him again!”
Mrs. White continued on and said, “Don’t you ever talk to him again! Do you understand us? You are doing this to get money from us and you’re not getting a damn penny, do you hear us?”
Both Mr. and Mrs. White, were former college basketball players and they were both very tall and thin. Mrs. White had long jeans on, flat white tennis shoes, and a green Izod sweater. Mr. White almost identical outfit, tall long jeans, white tennis shoes, but a blue Izod sweater. Mr. White had short straight hair that was thinning with a slight comb over and glasses.
Mrs. White had short curly hair and small diamond earrings in her ears. She had a modest size diamond on her ring finger with her wedding band. They were a real match in the looks department. Decent, blond hair, blue eyed professional looking people. Mrs. White had a snotty looking nose, they both did. They both looked like snotty people.
However, I knew they weren’t. They had taken Robby in, a tall black kid and adopted him when they noticed he needed a home and they saw his potential for basketball. They did a good thing, they were good people.
They were just angry with me and the situation and I totally got that, no matter how humiliating it was. I had to do it to finalize things with Robby so we both could have closure.
Mrs. White was the only one speaking, but she kept saying “us.” Mr. White sat back quietly, but was in agreement based on his demeanor.
I jumped up and said, “Thank you for your time, I hear my mom out there,” and then I hurried down the block. I ran as fast as my big pregnant belly would take me.
I didn’t really hear my mom outside, but I just wanted to get the hell out of there. I just couldn’t bear to be in their presence another second. I felt like cussing her ass out, even though I strongly agreed with her.
I was just frustrated, I understood their issues with me, it just seemed as if Mrs. White was taking things too far and she just wouldn’t shut up. I didn’t know how much more I could take before I snapped.
Just because I was pregnant didn’t mean I was a grown-up; however, that’s what everyone else seemed to think. I had to transform from an innocent kid to a grown-up overnight. I was only sixteen and not worldly at all, so the whole thing was blowing my socks off, it was too much.
I walked down their block and turned onto Park Ave, a main street, and I was praying that my parents would see me as I headed towards home. I was walking the direction I thought my mom would take to come and get me. It worked, she found me.
My mom could find me in the middle of the Pacific, Atlantic, Indian or whatever ocean, because, I was her child. No matter what I have faced in this life, knowing I had my mom on my side, made all the difference in me living and dying.
My mom swerved over to the curb to pick me up and I jumped in the car. I don’t think I could have been happier to see her at that point. I rubbed my hands briskly to warm them by the heater vents in the car. My mom asked me what was going on.
I simply said, “Robby’s parents don’t want me to see him anymore, because they don’t want me ruining his life.”
My mom said, “Oh, okay.”
That was the end of that.
I prayed all night and I decided to keep my head up and move forward to the best of my ability. I was so disappointed in my own actions, all of this was my fault entirely, but what could I do to turn things for the positive instead of being so negative all the time?
I decided to continue on with my life as it was, and just do the best I could without Robby or Sandy in it.
I had previously spoken with my mother about having an abortion earlier on in the pregnancy and then about adopting the baby out to a family that could care for the child. We spoke in great detail and many lengthy conversations about my future and also the baby’s future.
I had two couples that wanted to adopt the baby already who knew my situation. My mother was concerned about the baby going outside of our family.
My mother ultimately told me that she would adopt the baby unofficially and I could continue on with school and graduate and then go on to college. She told me that way if I wanted the baby back after I finished college, she would gladly return the child to me. I felt so relieved and happy.
With my newfound appreciative and grateful attitude, the next week I went to see my J.R.O.T.C. officer, Mr. Ugee, and brought in my old uniform that consisted of a white blouse and navy colored slacks.
I said, “Hi Mr. Ugee, can I have a bigger uniform?
Mr. Ugee asked, “Why?”
I slid the old laundered and pressed uniform across the desk to him, smiling with my new upbeat and positive attitude.
I said, “It’s too small. I’ve gained some weight recently, so I just need a bigger uniform.”
Mr. Ugee said, “Well, how much bigger?”
I said, “I don’t know, I’m pregnant, so I’m not sure.”
Mr. Ugee was enraged.
He said, “Absolutely not, there is absolutely no way I would accommodate you as a pregnant teenager! You are supposed to be a leader. You are a bad example! You are a horrible role model! Get out! Never come back here again! I am dropping you from this class! Get out of here!”
I was shocked, I don’t know why, because he had a right to kick me out of class and I was a poor example to my fellow classmates. I’m not sure what I was thinking or what kind of logic I had going in there, but whatever it was, it was all wrong.
I went in smiling and came out crying. In came the waterworks, yet once again! I may as well have just made a dress out of Kleenex at that point with as much as I cried.
I exited Mr. Ugee’s office crying, embarrassed, and humiliated. I went back to hating myself and my life, just that quickly. I was on an emotional roller coaster. There was a tall flight of stairs that led up to the J.R.O.T.C. department that was located in its on section of the building.
After talking to Mr. Ugee, I ran out of his office and I threw myself down that tall flight of stairs without any hesitation, I didn’t care what happened to me. I just knew that I didn’t want to live anymore.
I hit the bottom hard and it hurt like hell!
I grabbed my shoulder, it felt like I broke it!
I cried, “This really sucks!”
I was alone at the bottom of the stairs, curled up in a ball, pregnant, and crying. I rocked back and forth comforting myself in my own little cocoon for I don’t know how long.
I heard the bell ring, so I jumped up as quickly as I could and pulled myself together so nobody would see me, rapidly wiping my tears, all the while exiting the stairwell.
There was only one other girl pregnant in the high school and she was a married senior. I went to a snobby prestigious school at the time and the girls were very arrogant.
They would usually make comments around me within earshot, but not to my face. One of the girls in my speech class decided she was going to do a speech about teen pregnancy and she was determined to make sure she drew attention to me, so the class and teacher would frown upon me.
Missy Slaughter was the girl, what a witch, and she was going on and on and even pointed to me, her comments were not anonymous, she was targeting me directly.
I stood up and said, “Just because I got pregnant doesn’t mean I’m a whore, it just means my mom didn’t rush me out to kill my baby like your mom did.”
I was normally very quiet and soft spoken, but I was getting sick of people torturing me.
My teacher Mr. Brim got pissed at me.
Mr. Brim said, “Sit down and don’t interrupt Missy’s speech again!”
I said, “You didn’t say anything to her when she was insulting me!”
Mr. Brim said, “Missy can give her speech about whatever she wants, if it applies to you, then it applies to you!
Mr. Brim then sent me to the principal’s office for interrupting Missy’s speech. I sat there the majority of the rest of the day.
I was getting huge and Lincoln was the biggest high school in the state, I was 7½ months at the time and it took me too long to get from the basement floor on the south end to the third floor on the north end of the school.
No matter how fast I ran, I could not make it to Biology class on time, and I would arrive about 30 seconds to a minute late. I begged the Principal for a note that gave me permission to be a minute late, just until I delivered, and finally he conceded.
I walked into Biology class, Mr. Snog’s class, and handed the late pass to him. Mr. Snog looked at the pass, looked at me, and then he ripped it into shreds.
Mr. Snog said, “You will be counted late…again. Why I would ever show you favoritism just because you decided to go get pregnant?”
I said, “But…”
Mr. Snog said, “Get out of my class!”
Mr. Snog kicked me out of class. I was getting kicked out of classes daily it felt like and it was hurtful for me, since I was normally a teacher’s favorite. I was a very sweet person. I hardly ever argued or raised my voice, my teachers normally loved me, and I never gave them any problems.
However, this was different; these teachers were now torturing me as if they were all perfect and never made any mistakes. If they would have kept quiet, then my classmates would not have even known or cared about what was going on with me being seconds late to class, but they decided to make it, and me, a spectacle.
I knew for a fact that almost every girl in the High school had already had sex by the age of 16 and many had already had abortions, so they weren’t any better than me. Just because a person goes and kills their baby or another person keeps it for them, it doesn’t make them better.
But, I was about to become just like them. I decided I could not take it anymore and I wanted that thing out of me. That thing that was bleeding my veins, heart and mind of all its remaining life.
I was sixteen, I didn’t understand the value of the life growing in me. The gift from God. I thought of it as an object, an alien form that sent to destroy my life. I wasn’t around any babies, ever, I didn’t know how precious and valuable they were at that time.
I continued to throw myself down long flights of stairs and I would ram things into my stomach. I would also punch myself in the stomach. On TV shows I had watched, every time a woman was pregnant and fell down the stairs, she always lost the baby and sometimes she even died too. I didn’t understand why it wouldn’t work for me.
I was sent to the principal’s office once again. This time, though, the principal and vice principal both called on me. I thought they were finally going to help me with all the things that had been happening to me lately.
I sat at Principal Vogerby’s desk and he was sitting in his chair. Vice Principal Hart was sitting on the window sill behind him, both were facing me. I had a long talk with Principal Mr. Vogerby, who was rarely there because we shared him with another school, and the Vice Principal Mr. Hart, who was also present.
I was told by both men that my actions could not be condoned and it wasn’t the first time teachers and students had complained about me getting special treatment.
I found that funny, because the only other pregnant girl in the school was the one who told me to ask for a pass because they gave passes to her, and the only difference between the two of us was that she was married.
They also gave passes to the school’s star athletes all day long and they would use them to stand in the hallways during classes and kiss the cheerleaders.
Mr. Hart said, “You shouldn’t feel that we owe you any special treatment just because you went out and got pregnant. You are a bad example to other students. It was your choice to get pregnant, you made your bed and now you have to lie in it. Oh, apparently you are already familiar with lying in beds!”
How did he know that? For all he knew I could have been gang raped and got pregnant, he didn’t know my situation at all.
Mr. Vogerby said, “Here you go, this is the number for the drop out, teen mother school, it will be a better fit for you, so just give them a call and they can get you enrolled there.”
I said, “What?”
As he threw the number across the desk at me, he said, “Here!”
I believe they wanted to keep me as far away from their prized athlete Robby, as possible. They had heard rumors Robby wanted to marry me. They weren’t going to let that happen, so they drove me out of there.
After that it was all blah, blah, blah, and I didn’t hear anything else they said after that point, then I was sent home. Unfortunately, I would never see Robby again and I never stepped foot into Lincoln High School again either. I didn’t even clean my locker out before I left.
As I was walking out of the principal’s office, I could feel something running down my leg. I ran into the bathroom, pulled down my pants and I could visibly see blood. I cleaned it up and I kept it to myself. Thank God I had black pants on. I walked to the gas station across the street and called everyone that I knew, but they all seemed to be busy or at work.
I had no choice but to call Sandy’s mom, I knew she would be home because she worked the night shift. I asked her to come and get me. I started feeling really dizzy and weak, I hadn’t been eating and I wasn’t doing well.
I didn’t even really know her, but she came and got me. I was shocked, because I knew she didn’t care for me. I ended up going to her house and resting. She was a doctor’s assistant and I knew she could take care of me, I told her I was sick and had the flu. She told me to lie down in Sandy’s bed, until my parent’s got there to pick me up and take me home.
Sandy’s mom Irma actually spoke to me nicely, just general conversation about my family makeup, but it gave us something to talk about until my mom came to get me. My mom apologized to Sandy’s mom for being so rude to her on the phone earlier when she came to pick me up, but Irma could hold a grudge and she only half-heartedly accepted my mom’s sincere apology.
I couldn’t go back to that school anymore, from the Principal on down to the students, they all made it known that I was a scandalous whore, I was not welcome and that I would always be an outcast there.
I was relieved in a way, I had been coming home from school every day exhausted from the battle, and then I had to work after school too. I didn’t know what I was going to do school wise. I had planned on using the J.R.O.T.C. program to help pay for college, so I was lost in that area.
Sandy started trying to call me frequently all of the sudden, but I just figured one of the chicks he was living with in California probably kicked him out, so he was only bored. Sandy had hurt me so much.
But, no matter how hard I tried to rid my mind of him, it was in my blood to want to be a family with my child’s father and to be married. I really thought I would have lost the majority of my love for him and I would have moved on by now.
But his baby was growing bigger and bigger inside of me and I couldn’t let him go. He was a part of the life in me. In some ways, that also made me hate that thing growing inside of me, knowing it was a part of Sandy, who had destroyed me.
Yet, somewhere in the back of my mind, I dreamed of us being a family when the baby arrived.
I was somewhat relieved when my mom told me she would essentially adopt the baby after it was born and I wouldn’t have to worry about feeding it, taking care of it, clothing it, or anything.
My mom gave me a tape to listen to. It was a song by Pat Boone called, “Let Me Live.” The song was partially sung by kids and it was about letting a baby or a child live, and not killing it and about its mom and dad putting their arms around the baby.
I felt convicted, so I started to have love for the life growing inside of me. You have to look the song up on YouTube. It would make any mother never want to have an abortion or lose their child.
I put the song on repeat and listened to it every day for the rest of my pregnancy. I cried. If you are pregnant and listen to that song and still don’t want the baby afterwards, I don’t know what to say.
I would escape through music whenever humanly possible, and I had spare time. I lay on my back on my bed in my pajamas, which consisted of an oversized black scrounge T-shirt and some black cotton gym shorts with white ankle socks.
My hair pulled back in a ponytail with curly long bangs that swayed to the right. I gazed to the four corners of my room. The corner by the window was stacked a mile high with all the stuffed animals Sandy had given me from carnivals and those he had purchased.
I had posters on my wall of Michael Jackson and Madonna. Madonna was one of my favorites. I drifted into thought as I listened to her songs, Papa Don’t Preach, and Live to Tell. They both seemed so fitting.
Time dragged slowly on and I was finally starting to adjust to being alone and pregnant. My friends surrounded me with love and faithfulness. I was working as many hours as I could get.
I had to make money for my prenatal vitamins and all of the things the baby would need.
I was still on my mom’s insurance since I was 16-years-old, so I would be having the baby under that. It was getting more difficult to work because I was gaining a lot of weight. I had to stand on my feet all through my shift and drag heavy 50 lb. hanger bins way to the rear of this huge department store when it closed every night. I would empty the bins every night and then drag them back up to the front.
One night, I was checking out a customer when I glanced out of the corner of my eye and I saw something strange move quickly. I closed my drawer and looked up again. I freaked out at what I saw. It shocked the heck out of me because it was Sandy!
He was standing by the sunglass rack, hiding partially behind it. Sandy was just standing there, smiling ear to ear at me. My stomach and baby flipped first with butterflies and then my heart filled with anger. How long had he been in town? Why didn’t he call me to tell me he was coming back home?
I hadn’t laid eyes on Sandy, in what seemed and felt like five years, but it had been around seven/eight months. Sandy signaled for me to take a break. I walked worried, scared, and reluctantly to the back of the store where the break room was. Sandy was waiting back there. I didn’t know what to say to him.
Sandy was every bit of a stranger to me, I had matured and grown up in ways I never knew existed. I approached Sandy very slowly and he snatched me in his arms and hugged me, twirling me around.
Sandy smelled so good and he felt so good, just as he always had. There was such a different feeling with him touching me now, knowing his child was growing inside me. My feelings started flowing back into my heart and we bonded all over again as if he had never left.
Sandy rubbed my stomach.
Sandy said, “Oh wow, look at you! I can’t believe it, my baby, growing inside of you. You are still so beautiful!”
I said, “How? Why are you here?”
Sandy said, “I decided not to stay in college, so I could come back home and we could raise our baby together, you and the baby are the reason. I gave up everything to be with you and raise our child.”
I did have some hesitation, because, to me, some kind of change would have had to take place for him to all of the sudden develop all these new-old feelings again when he hadn’t spoken with me at all for months. It was strange, but I didn’t want to challenge it.
He said, “I want to be present when my child is born.”
Feelings overwhelmed my ever-growing body. I thought to myself, whatever he did in the past is in the past. Sandy is here now and we can raise our child together.
We spent every second together up until my delivery. We went to church together, Sandy got baptized, we wrote love letters to each other every day, and we fell in love all over again.
Sandy bought me countless gifts and catered to all my pregnancy cravings. I wish he wouldn’t have, since I gained 36 pounds in all. I fell back into his arms and nobody else ever fit so perfectly together as Sandy and I did.
We made love everywhere, even though I was pregnant and all. One day, we were down by the lake shore in a very private cove that was hard to reach and only accessible by foot. That’s where we made love. It was a beautiful warm spring day. Seventy-five degrees and breezy.
Sandy was extremely romantic as he had fixed a picnic with sparkling wine, a basket of goodies, and completed the scene with blankets that he spread out on the ground. He even brought pillows. When we got through, Sandy got on one knee and brought out a ring.
He said, “Sweetie Bee, you are the love of my life, my reason, just my reason, I have loved no other girl since you and I will love no other after, will you marry me?” He placed the ring back on my finger. Sandy was a smooth talker and I had waited for him to return to me.
I said, “Yes!”
We kissed and hugged and it was perfect.
Sandy treated me like a queen through the remainder of my pregnancy. He showered me with gifts, flowers, food etc. Things were moving at a vehement pace.
He was still entering singing and dancing contests picking up money here and there. It was the beginning of the second week in May and my due date was rapidly approaching. I was still working a lot and dragging those hanger bins to the back every day as Sandy was still looking for a job.
I felt so much heavy pressure on my cervix as I was going into my 9th month. I asked my boss could I please do anything but drag the bins to the back! Just until I delivered the baby and I was afraid I was going to lose the baby as I had started caring so much for the little one.
My boss asked me, “Do you expect me to treat you differently just because you are pregnant? Do you think someone else is going to do your job for you?”
I said, “Of course not, I’m only asking because I am worried about my baby, could you please make this exception, at least just this once with the bins for me? Maybe let me trade another job with someone else, just for today only?”
She said, “No! I cannot. I don’t think so! You’ll continue dragging the bins just like everybody else.”
I said, “Then I am going to have to put in my two weeks’ notice.”
As I was dragging the bins to the back that night, I felt a heavy sting and pop in the back of my calf. It felt like someone snapped me with a rubber band really hard. I had broken a blood vessel in my calf pulling the bin to the back and it had just yielded to the pressure.
I continued to work another week at Gordo’s and one day I came home from work and as I was walking down the street, I saw a bunch of people in front of our house. I wonder what’s going on, was my Mom having a surprise baby shower for me? What was it? I wondered.
As I got closer, I saw people swiftly scavenging the contents of our lives, quickly running away with our belongings, which included all of the things I had saved money for to get the baby. I saw two men in Sherriff’s uniforms. I had seen this before. My baby brother Shawn was there, I grabbed him and we huddled closely together hugging.
They had apparently served our parents with a three day eviction notice and that day was the third day. My mom preferred to hide stuff from us, hoping for a miracle at the last second, so we usually never knew until we were being escorted out of a place that we were getting the boot.
The Sheriff handed me a large garbage bag of the new stuff I had purchased for the baby. He looked at me and said, “My name is Edmond, I’m sorry, I set this aside for you.” Assuming it was mine since I was visibly pregnant.
The one Sherriff was tall, skinny and he was mean and sharp, while the other, Edmond, he was a rotund fellow who was pretty nice. He forced the people who were taking our stuff to go away when he saw me standing there with my little brother, pregnant.
I clutched my unborn child with my left hand through the hand-me-down red maternity top and hand-me-down maternity pants a woman at my church had given me out of pity. In my right hand, I clutched my baby brother Shawny’s hand. I fell to my knees. My hands up to God. I knew it was punishment for my sins. I would pay forever for what I had done.
My head internally gray with worry about the future of my family sitting on my shoulders. My life, a broken record a never-ending story. When would the new record start playing, when would the story have a happy ending? I was beginning to feel it never would end, happy at least.
The kind Sherriff interrupted and said, “I will tell you what, I will keep them away from your stuff at least until your parents come home, okay?”
I said, “Thank you.”
He put his arm around me and gently pulled me to my feet. I gave him a hug. He actually waited and kept the people away. My brother and I were not allowed to enter the house and get anything so we waited on the curb. It took my parents three hours to arrive, but he kept his word.
I guess, on the positive side, we didn’t have much to move, because strangers took most of it while we were all at work and school.
I sat on the curb with Shawn and we waited for the rest of our family to arrive at what used to be our home. All six of us ended up moving into the local scurvy Beggar’s Motel. It was the only place we could afford. All six of us in a room with two beds. I had to share the bed with my baby brother while my mom and dad shared a bed, and my two other brothers slept on the floor.
My brothers and I tried to find some positivity and excitement in the whole situation, and that came naturally when we found out the Beggar’s Motel had a pool. Ironically, as scurvy as the Beggar’s Motel was, the owners felt our family was too scurvy for their pool. Every time I tried to take my brother’s swimming, they would say the pool was closed for maintenance and wouldn’t let us swim.
We had barely got a chance to get settled in at the Beggar’s Motel when were abruptly woken one night to the sound of multiple sirens. There were so many sirens the sound was deafening and drowning. We hadn’t even been there that long, when we were ushered away from our room.
The Beggar’s Motel was on fire and it was a bad one. The Beggar’s Motel was closed after the fire for what felt like a year, but at least for many months after since the fire was so bad. There was no chance of us coming back there, and we wouldn’t be getting our money back either.
We were officially homeless. We had to pack up all of our things, the few things we had left and could quickly grab, and then we all moved into the car. We slept and lived in our car until we found another house. I celebrated my 17th birthday in the back seat of a 1970 GTO with my parents, my three brothers, and my unborn baby, but, hey, I was with my family.
My mom found us a house and she fed the landlord of the house a sob story about how we would be moving in with a pregnancy, so they let us move in while we still owed them money. Only thing is, we couldn’t move into our new house for another few days.
It was very uncomfortable, downright miserable, sleeping in a car with six people, but at least we weren’t on the street and it wasn’t winter, yet the nights were still cold. Oh, I forgot, we had our doggy and our kitty with us too, and my favorite monkey Sammy.
He was the stuffed animal my dad’s sisters had won me at the state fair when I was seven years old. I always kept him near me when I was stressed. We finally moved into the house and then a string of tragedies hit.
First, my dad kicked me out right before I was due to deliver. I won’t go too much into that, because my dad is a good man. He had lost his job and he was just overwhelmed. My mom told him that she chose her daughter over him and that she would never kick her child out, especially her pregnant child, so my dad left us.
I felt overwhelmed with grief and pain. They were getting a divorce and I had broken up my parent’s marriage of almost 20 years just because of my own selfish actions.
The pain wouldn’t stop there though. One of primary reasons me and my child were still alive was because of my pastor, Pastor Michael Brown. I had went to speak with him after my dad moved out, but I couldn’t discuss that issue because I would never share my parents personal business, so I shared my feelings of fear for my unborn child and how I knew I couldn’t be a good mother.
Pastor Brown said, “God doesn’t make mistakes Sweetie Bee and God will see you through.”
I said, “I hear you, but I’m scared my baby is going to go to hell, can’t I just ask God to take it now, so it will go to Heaven?”
Pastor Brown said, “That’s not the way it works Sweetie Bee, you have nothing to fear, God will never give you more than you can handle.”
I said, “But, Pastor Brown, it definitely feels like more than I can handle! I do worry that I am not going to be a good mother, I just turned 17-years-old. I babysat once and didn’t do a good job at all!”
Pastor Brown said, “Don’t worry, my child, God will be with you always.”
Suddenly the door to Pastor Brown’s office flung open and me and my cousin Nessy, who had been sitting beside me at Pastor Brown’s desk discussing her own issues, jumped out of our seats. Pastor Brown clutched his heart. We thought he was having a heart attack and rushed to him.
Still clutching his heart, Pastor Brown said, “Whew, I thought they were coming for me!” Pastor Brown was one of my favorite persons on the earth. We had just got settled into our new house. Things were going smoothly. I got a call really quickly after we had settled into our new house while my Mom was taking a bath and I answered the phone when my aunt called.
My Aunt Mae said, “Sweetie Bee, tell your Mom Pastor Brown just passed away this morning.”
I said, “What?”
Aunt Mae said, “Yes, Sweetie Bee, they found him kneeling at the altar.”
I said, “How?”
Aunt Mae said, “A heart attack, go tell your Mom.”
I said, “Okay, I’m going to tell her right now, bye!”
I went into the bathroom where my mom was soaking and told her, and then she broke down crying, because we all loved Pastor Brown like he was our own family.
It was like a déjà vu I believe it was the very next morning, because my Mom was taking a bath again when I answered the phone and it was Aunt Mae.
I said, “Hello.”
Aunt Mae said, “Can I speak with your mom Sweetie Bee?”
I said, “She’s in the bath again Aunt Mae.” This was before there were cordless phones and cell phones, so I could not just take the phone to her since it was tied to one wall.
Aunt Mae said, “Bad news again Sweetie Bee, grandpa Normie has had a massive stroke and they don’t know if he is going to make it, tell your mom to call me as soon as possible!”
I ran to get my mom, once again, screaming and crying as she jumped out of the bath and ran to the phone, naked and dripping wet, to call Aunt Mae back.
Apparently, my second favorite person on the earth, my grandfather Normie, was so grief stricken from the death of Pastor Brown that the stress contributed to him having a massive stroke the very next day. Grandpa Normie suffered almost all loss of body function and speech.
Something also happened with me and Sandy during this time.
He had been spending every minute with me, loving me, feeding all of my pregnancy cravings, and so on, but then he just flipped and changed into a different person as he quit coming by or even coming around. I needed him more at that time than I ever did. I didn’t even have the time or energy to process what was going on with Sandy.
I hadn’t even spoken with Sandy or laid eyes on him in over a week and he hadn’t called me on the phone much at all. I did manage to track Sandy down twice and when I spoke with him, the new old Sandy I knew had disappeared. He had never been a drinker and now he was drunk as a skunk all the time.
People were talking and they were telling me he was out philandering, getting drunk, and doing drugs. So much had happened in a very short span of time, but it seemed to stretch an eternity. I never knew so much pain.
I thought I knew pain before, but I never knew it could be that bad. It was on a whole other level. I hadn’t even properly mourned and buried my pastor yet and I had to go be with my grandpa, and then the Sandy thing I just couldn’t even give it any thought at that moment.
It was only in my grandpa Normie’s hospital room that I could find comfort and solace. I spent every night with him, trying to get him to communicate verbally or by writing. I purchased a white board and markers and a paper pad and pens.
It took my mind off of everything happening. We finally buried Pastor Brown, the funeral was enormous and so was my grief. I barely got to mourn him though, all thoughts went to my grandpa Normie.
I was devastated at the sight of my grandpa. The man I was looking at lying there was paralyzed, unable to speak. This same man, whom I loved like a father, had just been telling me a week ago that he predicted my baby was going to be arriving really soon, in a week in fact and it was going to be a boy.
My grandpa was so excited, he was my mother Lorena La Rue’s father and grandma Mena, was her mother. Grandpa Normie, he just couldn’t wait for me to give birth, he never judged me in that he knew I was extremely remorseful for my mistakes. He disciplined and trained me, but he didn’t condemn me.
He was trying to rush it along, maybe he could sense his future predicament. I came to visit him all the time, I watched him eagerly one day shortly before his stroke at the home he shared with my grandma Mena, as he cooked and flipped his fabulous and delicious concoction of crunchy potato cakes.
Grandpa Normie finished cooking and headed toward the table, where I was sitting, with two plates in his hand. Grandpa Normie handed me one.
I said, “Oh Grandpa Normie, I’m not hungry, sorry.”
He said, “I don’t want to hear it, monkey, you eat and it looks like you are starving that baby, now you need to eat.”
I was thinking, I am as big as two tents and it looks like I am starving? However, I respected my elders, so I didn’t care if I had just ate ten chickens, I was going to force whatever food he wanted me to eat down anyway.
Smiling, I said, “Okay grandpa, you got me, I am hungry and I could never resist your famous potato cakes!”
Grandpa Normie smiled, he had a little bit of a crooked smile, but beautiful teeth. He was very tall and slender with olive skin and the most handsome of men, he and my grandma Mena produced a beautiful, gorgeous family of kids. All with smiles as big as Chiclets.
Grandpa Normie sat in his favorite spot at his kitchen table. He had his reading glasses on, reading his daily newspaper, and daily it was. I swear he read that newspaper all day long. Every time I saw Grandpa Normie, he was reading a newspaper.
He loved reading papers, bibles, magazines, and books, anything. And me, I loved watching him read. I would sit and stare at him for what seemed like forever. I loved watching him study. I don’t know why, I just loved him so much. I got my love of reading from him.
Grandpa Normie and I sat side-by-side at the kitchen table. I gazed at him sipping his coffee, happily munching on his share of the potato pancakes he had just made. They were so crunchy and golden brown on the outside and flavorful and moist on the inside. I would pay a million dollars for the chance to see him again and for just one of his potato cakes.
I just want the chance to sit beside him one more time. I cry as I write, I loved my grandpa with everything in me, he was so special to me. It didn’t matter what I was going through in my life, I knew he loved me, I had all of his love and he had mine.
Grandpa Normie looked up over his newspaper at me, and over the top rim of his reading glasses and said, “Come on little monkey, eat up! The baby needs you to be strong!”
He always called me little monkey or just monkey.
I was standing there in the hospital room looking at this man. My grandpa Normie! He was in a child-like state of drooling, he had very limited use of one arm and leg, and he kept wildly moving his hand. The same man I had just sat watching, standing tall like a strong giant, was now feeble and helpless. I was heartbroken.
I could tell he was frustrated and he wanted us to know something, but I couldn’t figure out what he was trying to communicate, and it was exasperating. I couldn’t tell if he recognized me or if he even realized what had happened to him?
I grabbed a pad of paper and a pen and I got closer to him. I tried to wrap his fingers around the pen. He couldn’t hold it, so I held it up to a pad of paper for him. In my mind, if I just worked with him every day, he would return back to his old self. I tried relentlessly, day after day, to the point where I got sick. I was barely eating.
Grandpa Normie scribbled up and down on the paper. I let him scribble three pages and tried to make sense of it, but it all just looked like scribbles and no words could be made out. I was so heartbroken and sad inside that I just cried. My grandpa Normie was the man who picked me up from school every time I was sick, and I was a very sickly child.
He would take me to his house and nurture me back to health until my Mom got off work. Now he was just lying there helpless and weak. My grandpa Normie’s left leg was shorter than the right one and it was half dead due to a previous stroke, so he didn’t have a whole lot of feeling in it.
Anyway, he would always drive with one foot on the gas and one foot on the brake. The foot he always had on the brake was the foot that was the half-dead one. So he couldn’t tell how much pressure he was applying to the brake. The whole time grandpa Normie drove the car it would make a pulling noise because he was pressing on the brake and the gas at the same time.
So my Mom would always tell me, “Make sure when your grandpa Normie picks you up that he doesn’t drive with both feet.”
Of course grandpa Normie would still drive with both feet, for he was quite stubborn.
I would say, “Grandpa, Mom says you’re not supposed to drive with both feet, because you’ll wear the brakes out.”
Clearing his throat, Grandpa Normie would say, “Listen here monkey, I know how to drive. You tell Lorena, your mama, I’m the boss of her, she’s not the boss of me and she doesn’t need to worry about me!”
He would say it in a gruff sort of tone.
I would say, “Okay, you’re the boss of her, aren’t you grandpa Normie?”
We had the same conversation every time he picked me up. Mom would always make me tell him. Grandpa Normie didn’t miss any of my special events at school I knew he loved me just as much as I loved him.
I slept on a painful hard cot beside Grandpa Normie’s hospital bed every night. I didn’t want to miss a moment with him in case he started talking again. He had never taken his wedding rings off and they were actually growing into his skin. They were deeply embedding in his skin and his skin was starting to cover the rings up and hide them.
I had never seen anything like it, I don’t know how it even happened. They had to do something the doctor said he had never seen done. They brought in a saw and very carefully cut the rings off my grandpa’s fingers. Then they put some special cream on his fingers to heal the infection the rings left.
I had a lot of time to think about life and love and what was important. I talked to my grandpa and he would just look at me, then he would cry. I didn’t know if I was hurting him, or why he was crying, I didn’t know if he was frustrated, in pain, or what, but I didn’t just want to ignore him either. So, I talked to him anyway and then he would laugh.
Sandy’s parent’s had went out of town, as they did every year for their vacation, and Sandy came by my parents’ house late one night claiming he lost his key and couldn’t get in the house.
My dad and mom patched things up and he came back home, while I was basically living at the hospital with my grandpa. I got a call in my grandpa’s hospital room and my Mom told me my Dad had come back home and had also agreed to let Sandy stay with us, just until the baby was born and then he had to leave.
I needed to go home anyway, because I developed some physical problems in the late term of my pregnancy. I traded spots with another family member who came up to the hospital to care for my grandpa.
It went against every religious belief and value my family held, but I had already destroyed that anyway, so Sandy moved in with us and things were going fine. I was so in love with my perfect, butterball shaped stomach, my skin was golden brown and flawless. I was about 160 pounds, a big whale at that point, probably due to all of grandpa Normie’s force feeding (laughing). I was getting closer to delivering.
It was May 23, 1987. With the items I did purchase and manage to save with the help of the Sherriff, we beautifully decorated the baby’s area in my large bedroom. It was really a screened in porch and I felt it would be comfortable for most any baby. All Sandy could rave about was his new son coming into the world and how he was going to play sports with him, etc. I couldn’t wait to see him be a great father to our child.
I had heard that having sex would make the baby come out and I wanted it out. Sandy and I (fearfully) had a sexual encounter that morning about 8:15AM. (We were in my parent’s house it was the only time we had sex in there) I had been having contractions ever since. There was pain and pressure in my bladder all day, but I wasn’t due to deliver for another 22 days or so.
I called my OB/GYN Dr. Ramoni and his nurse, Tina, told me Dr. Ramoni was actually on vacation in Hawaii and he wouldn’t be returning for two weeks. I was just hoping I would deliver closer to my due date, so Dr. Ramoni would be the one to help me deliver.
I didn’t care much for Dr. Ramoni’s substitute doctor, Dr. Scorotchi, he was on call and if I were to have delivered right away that day, he would be the one to do it. Nurse Tina spoke with Dr. Scorotchi and he basically told her to tell me to wait things out and time out what may have been contractions and to also watch for any water breakage.
My mom and dad were home from work and my three brothers were home from school, with Sandy there as well, we were a full house. We had just finished eating dinner together. My mother Lorena was very old fashioned, no matter how poor we were or where we were, we always tried to eat dinner together as a complete family unit, whenever possible.
It was still May 23, 1987 and now about 6:00PM, after dinner, I felt a really heavy pressure in my bladder area and I rushed off to use the bathroom, I felt a weird gush of water and it was pink colored. I called for my mother then she came in and said, “It looks like your water has broken Sweetie Bee.”
She should know, after all she had delivered four children herself, all by Cesarean Section though, so I’m not sure if her symptoms would have been the same.
My mom ran to call Dr. Scorotchi, and he told my mom it sounded like my mucus plug had come out and to have me lie down and wait a little while longer and to count my contractions. They were coming on really strong at that point. Sandy was freaking out a little bit and my brothers and my father were anxious.
My brothers kept coming by my room to check on me and look at me. After all I was quite a freak of a specimen to them, I was their mentor and role model and I was 16 and pregnant, what a good example. They all sat around on the cushioned benches that surrounded one side of the screened in porch, which was my room.
They told me silly jokes and capped on each other for hours. For Sandy, it was right up his alley, they joked into the night until it was bedtime. They had me laughing the whole time, I loved and cherished my little brothers.
Everybody was in bed sleeping, it was about 9:45PM, and the contractions started getting unbearable. Sandy jumped off the cushioned bench where he had been sleeping in my room when he heard me screaming.
Sandy and I made our way upstairs to my parent’s room where they were both soundly sleeping.
I could tell my mom and dad were both exhausted from a hard day at work. They both worked physical jobs. My mom worked at UPS and my dad was a mechanic.
I whispered, “Mom…Mom….MOM!”
I was trying not to wake my dad. I really didn’t want to wake either of them, they worked so hard all the time. But, my mom would have killed me, murdered me if I would have gone to the hospital without her.
My mom, who was heavily sleeping, said in a groggy voice, “Go back downstairs and start timing your contractions and when they get 5 minutes apart, come back and wake me up.”
I said, “Mom, they are already five minutes apart, they’ve been five minutes apart for a long time now.”
Mom said, “Well go back downstairs, lay down, time them, and tell me when they are three minutes apart.”
I said, “Okay.”
I waited until almost 11PM and I couldn’t take it anymore, the pain was horrendous, the contractions were then two to three minutes apart and I was screaming.
I sent Sandy back up to my parents’ room and he tried to wake them, then he came back down to my room.
Sandy said, “Sweetie, they won’t wake up.”
I belted out an uncontrollable scream, more like the yelp of a wounded animal, at the top of my lungs and the whole house came a runnin’.
I screamed, “This baby is coming… now!”
I’m was writhing with pain, crying, and moaning. My father, Lee, had Sandy run out to start the car. Everybody was racing around getting ready to leave. My dad and Sandy both carried me out to the car because I couldn’t walk since I was in so much pain.
My father, Lee, being the unprofessional race car driver he was, raced me across town to Lutheran hospital, it was only ten minutes away, but he got me there in five minutes. Sandy rushed into the ER and fetched a wheelchair, then both he and my dad pick me up again and put me into it.
My dad stayed for some time and then he had to leave and go back home with my brothers, they were too young to stay home alone. The hospital staff rushed me into a hospital room and I started throwing up everywhere. My contractions were two minutes apart at that point. I was lying in the hospital bed in a delivery room waiting on Dr. Scorotchi to arrive.
Dr. Scorotchi finally made his appearance but it was already a little after one in the morning, on May 24, 1987 at that point. Dr. Scorotchi examined me and my contractions were severe. I couldn’t even think, I was in agonizing pain. Dr. Scorotchi was asking me questions and I couldn’t even answer them. Even though the contractions were severe, I had only dilated to 3 cm.
Dr. Scorotchi did an ultrasound and a physical examination and discovered the baby had passed meconium, in layman’s terms, the baby had a bowel movement in the sac it was in, the amniotic fluid sac surrounding it. This can be dangerous and deadly, depending on the circumstances.
The meconium could cause the baby to aspirate if the baby inhaled a mixture of the bowel it passed mixed with the amniotic fluid into its lungs. The baby appeared to be in distress.
I had uncontrollable diarrhea and I kept vomiting everywhere. The doctor wanted me to lay down and I had to keep going to the bathroom.
I came back from the bathroom and Dr. Scorotchi said, “I am going to have to dilate you myself.”
He said, “You are still not dilating and you are contracting hard, your contractions are one minute apart. Due to the danger of the meconium, we have to get your baby out! We have to do it now, and we need you to help us!”
Dr. Scorotchi said, “I’m going to have to induce your labor and manually dilate you.”
I said, “Okay, great, what does that all mean?”
He said, “I’m going to stick my hand in you and twist it around that is called manual dilation.”
p. I said, “Hold on a minute! Say what now? You’re going to do what?”
He said, “I’m going….”
I cut him off and I said, “Mom?”
She said, “Yes, honey.”
I said, “Please leave the room for a second I have something really private to share with the doctor.”
My mom was confused, we didn’t have any private moments like that where we would excuse one another from the room, but she left anyway.
I asked the doctor to come closer to me so my mom wouldn’t hear what I was saying. I didn’t want to get in trouble with her.
I grabbed the doctor’s shirt and clenched it in my fist.
I said, “If you try to stick your hand inside of me, I am going to fk you up! Are we clear?” I didn’t even cuss, but I did then at that moment. I knew how to because my dad cussed like a sailor.
The nurse on hand Mary quickly tried to pull my hand off his shirt, but she couldn’t so she asked me to release him.
She said, “Doctor, let me talk with her just a minute please.” The doctor left the room heated red and pissed off.
I told Mary, “If that doctor tries to stick his hand in me, I’m going to kick his a across the room, I mean it!”
Mary said, “Sweetie, your baby will die if he doesn’t do this, do you understand? You need to hear me and listen to what I am saying, do you want your baby to die? He has to help you and he has to stick his hand in you.”
Sandy was just sitting in the chair wide-eyed and quiet, waiting for his son to be born.
My first response inside was, man forget you and the horse you rode in on, screw the doctor, this hospital and this baby, I’m gone. Then logic and reason came in.
I cried and whimpered, “Okay.”
It’s not like I had a choice. The baby’s head had dropped and started down the birth canal, but I still wasn’t dilating correctly.
Dr. Scorotchi reached into the birth canal, so he could place an internal fetal monitor on the baby, but to do this he had to reach his hand in and do what felt like making a fist, all the while twisting it back and forth, to dilate it and make it open up. Now, you know there is nothing at all that sounds normal about that. With no pain medicine at all?
Doctors use their fingers and hand to stretch the cervix, so the baby can have more room to come out. Google it.
I wasn’t on any medication at all, I had a completely natural birth, so he had to manually dilate me in segments, and it was excruciatingly painful. Too painful to describe and put into words.
The thought of someone screwing a wire into the top of the skin on my innocent baby’s head was too much to bear, but that is exactly what the doctor did.
The next thing I know, I was being rushed to an operating room for they were having a problem because they couldn’t do a cesarean section, since the baby was too far down, but I wasn’t dilating either. They allowed my mom and Sandy to join me after they got me set up and draped.
They had to get the baby out so it didn’t suffocate. I couldn’t have any medicine, the birth was completely natural, not a drop of any type of pain medicine and no epidural.
The pain was so great that I felt like I had lost a part of my brain in the process. A portion of my mind, gone, just lost. I had gone from doing everything to get rid of the baby to not wanting a drop of pain medicine for fear it would hurt the baby in some way. That is, hurt the baby any more than I had already done throughout my pregnancy. I begged for ice chips. Sandy on one side of me, Mom on the other. Grandma Mena was assisting the doctor as an OB-Gyn delivery nurse.
I peered up at the drab ceiling in the operating room and everything looked so sterile and still. I had been in hard labor 8 hours and 13 hours total. The room reeked of disinfectant that had been doused shortly before my arrival.
My vision was blurry, yet I could vaguely make out the silhouette of Dr. Scorotchi, the nurses, grandma Mena and assistants, they were all draped in hygienic white uniforms, face masks, and horrible smelling rubber gloves.
Every time a nurse came near my face, the malodor of her rubber gloves made me nauseous. I tried to speak, but words would not come out of my mouth, I was too weak. I wanted to shout, “Keep those nasty gloves away from me, they are making me sick!”
I grabbed my mom’s hand so hard I felt her bones pop. My mother, Lorena, was standing to the left of me. My fiancé, Sandy, had been standing on my right, but after going 13 hours without eating or drinking, my mom had encouraged him to go get something to eat. I lifted my head slightly off of the table and I screamed to the top of my lungs. With uncontrollable instinct, I pushed with everything I had in me. Dr. Scorotchi screamed at me, “Don’t push!
Don’t push! If you keep pushing you are going to cause harm to your baby.” I gave up and fell limp for about five minutes, then the routine started all over again, but it was nothing new, I had been doing this for what seemed like an eternity and it had to end sooner or later.
Sandy looked at me and said, “Our son will be here soon Sweetie, hang on, I’m going to step out really quickly and get something to drink, I will be right back.”
My head was spinning as Dr. Scorotchi kept telling me not to push. I was thinking to myself, What the hell do you mean don’t push. I want this big headed baby out! The baby had to weigh 15 pounds as big as my stomach was. I want this over! The contraction ended and I remained lifeless on the table. My head dropped down uncontrollably and sloped towards my mother as my dark brown curls impaired part of my vision.
I cracked my mouth slightly while my brown eyes forcefully locked into a gaze as I asked for water in a strangled tone. My mother denied me, but with little strength in my voice, I begged my mom and said, “If you love me, you will give me water! Please, please, please!” I begged and begged but to no avail. My mom turned her head away from me with tears in her eyes.
I started to sob weakly as hot tears streamed my cheeks, yet it felt good just knowing they were liquid, so I stretched my tongue over to my cheek and lapped a tear. I begged her for some ice at least, she asked the doctors and nurse and they told her no, so she told me no. I wasn’t allowed a drop to eat or drink, because the doctors feared I would have to have the baby surgically removed.
My Grandma Mena, Mom’s mom, had entered the operating room in head to toe gear, she had been helping deliver babies for over 25 years at Lutheran Hospital. She was present for every one of her grandchildren and her great-grandchildren’s births at that point and many more thereafter.
Even if she wasn’t on duty, she was allowed to suit up and help. All the doctors and nurses loved my grandma Mena to death. She came in and snuck me one tiny sliver of ice and rubbed my hair to comfort me. She whispered in my ear, “You will be okay, hear? I’m here and I’m not leaving.”
We were never the best of friends, but in times like these she was always there. She would always warn us, me and my cousins and her kids too that if we ever came into any hospital with dirty underwear or dirty socks on, it would pretty much be curtains for us. She said we better not dare ever embarrass her like that.
The final contraction hit as Sandy entered back into the room and I squeezed both his and my mom’s hands tightly one last time. The pain was too much for my mind too bear, I let both of their hands go. It had been 14 hours, 9 hours of hard labor, I was done, my mind and body just could not bear anymore.
I heard the sounds of feet quickly scurrying. I saw ambiguous images of nurses running around. I heard the clicking of wheels coming closer to my table. I looked up towards the lights that were glaring so brightly.
I felt my eyes roll back into their sockets. The pain carried me to another world. Then the lights went out, it was pitch black and a feeling of absolute serenity came over my body. For a moment I didn’t feel any pain. I felt so peaceful. I felt like the image of a ghost I had watched on television. My body was so light and weightless, I was gliding slowly down a very dark tunnel. I could feel, and I was present, but I couldn’t see anything, just blackness.
I felt like a bird soaring over the mountains and it was one of the most tranquil feelings I have ever felt to this day. I could hear faded voices far in the distance and the very faint sounds of beeping, and then it was silent.
It was as if I entered into another realm. I kept gliding and gliding and it was so peaceful. I could feel a white weightless flowing gown on my body, yet I couldn’t see anything. It was so strange that I could feel things visually, even though I felt blackness. It’s hard to explain. I felt my body move smoothly down a narrow tunnel of blackness.
My mind then began to instantly race back through certain moments of my childhood as if I were in a picture show. I saw a vision of my great-grandmother Russo in her purple flowered muumuu and her shiny brown curls were blowing in the wind as she hung my great-grandpa’s trousers on the line.
My great-grandpa Russo, tall and lean, with a beautiful smile of all pearly whites, peered at my great-grandmother as if she was his world and his big eyes secured his love. He graciously sipped lemonade out of a tin can.
Great-Grandpa Russo rocked slowly back and forth in his favorite weather beaten and peeling wooden rocker. It was a déjà vu type of feeling, because strangely enough, I don’t remember ever meeting either of them. Maybe I did as a baby or toddler and just hadn’t previously recalled the memory. I couldn’t tell if I was dreaming, dying, or what was happening to me. How could I know who people were that I didn’t know? It didn’t make any sense at all.
My mind flashed back to the huge gala my mother Lorena had thrown for me for my fourteenth birthday, which had been a few years ago. I twirled about in my party dress feeling like a real princess. I was surrounded by dozens of friends that attended from my school. I felt so loved.
I saw myself from above and to the side of me it was like a movie playing, like on a television show. I was looking down and over to the right at myself as a seven-year-old playing about the flower and vegetable gardens my mom kept. It was my favorite place in the world and the safest. Nobody could find me and hurt me there.
I was suddenly flowing about this tunnel and my grandfather Normie was beside me as he reached for my hand. It was surreal and beautiful, but I didn’t feel a physical touch, it was more like a spiritual grasp and I knew at that moment I was going to be okay. There was other things in the tunnel with me, I felt they were angels, two of them. I couldn’t see them, but I could feel them. I couldn’t see any faces, but I felt them beside me, it was so weird. It was like they were escorting me and showing me memories.
I had such an immense feeling of joy and security, safeness and peace. My grandpa Normie couldn’t be by my side in the real world during one of the most physically traumatic events of my life because he was in his own hospital room within the same hospital. It was something he longed for, to be with me when the baby was born to see his great-grandchild. Grandpa Normie was alive, yet taken from me.
I floated towards the end of this tunnel, my grandpa Normie faded, as well as all the memories. I could feel absolutely no pain. It was extremely beautiful and a life changing experience. I had no doubt at all in my mind that even at that time I was at the hand of God.
I knew he was having mercy on me, whisking me away from the agony once it became too great for my natural human mind to bear. It was a gift, a blessing from God. The threshold of my pain had transcended the limit of my mind and God was there to help me. I had no memories of pain after begging for the ice chips. I don’t remember the baby coming out or anything.
Finally, after nine hours of hard natural labor and fourteen hours of labor total, I was thrust into this vigorously bright white light. All the lights and sounds were now bright and fully audible, loud and bright. What had just happened to me? Was it real? I didn’t even have time to think about much, when this little tiny six-pound creature was being flung upon my chest. It was a baby girl, I had a daughter.
I looked up at my mom, I asked her, “Was my eyes closed the whole time?”
She said, “What?”
I said, “Was my eyes closed during labor?”
Mom looked at me very strangely and said, “Are you okay?”
I said, “Yes, but were my eyes open or closed?”
She hesitantly said, “They were open…”
I said, “Are you sure they weren’t closed?”
She started getting annoyed, “your eyes were open and they were not closed, okay!” She left the room irritated.
I knew Lorena LaRue, I had to leave her alone before she started going off on me, baby or not, she would snap.
I asked Sandy, “Did you see my eyes opened or closed?”
He said, “What?”
Why was this such a difficult question?
I asked Sandy again, “During labor, were my eyes open or closed?”
He said, “Open.”
I thought, how could that be? How could I have seen all I saw with my eyes open, did I die? I must have died or something, I told myself.
I asked the doctor if I died, he said, “no, it was rough, but you didn’t die, everything went perfectly.”
Hmm, he called that perfect?
I was confused. I knew I didn’t die and go to heaven, after all, I was living with my boyfriend, unmarried and we have just had illegal sex, unmarried, so heaven was out of the question. But, what was it? What happened to me?
My personal opinion about what happened to me is that I didn’t die at all. However, God interceded and blessed me with comfort and love. When I thought my mind could not endure a second more, he stepped in, he held me and loved me. I love God so much! Jesus sacrificed everything for me! He died on the cross and was tortured beyond belief for me. Nobody will ever turn me away from Jesus, my God is the most beautiful in this world. All things work together for my good, there are no mistakes.
I just cannot tell the world enough how beautiful God is to me. People have asked me, if you could go back and change everything what would you change? I say nothing. I would not change a thing. To know God’s love, mercy and tenderness and for him to allow me to be where I am, I am eternally grateful. I can only hope I have served God well enough to make it to Heaven one day!
However, at that time, I decided it would be best to hide what happened and never speak a word of it to anyone. My family would have bought me a one-way ticket to the crazy farm, if I would have told them I was floating with angels.
That experience alone erased any doubt I had in my mind that God is real. I have heard scientists state that a near-death-experience, aka NDE is caused by a chemical reaction in the brain when given medicine to go under. That’s because many near death experience stories, generally happen during surgery and while a patient is under anesthesia.
How would they explain what happened to me? Researchers generally make the “it happened because of medicine” statement, in an attempt to prove that God is not real. They say it’s just the medication causing the patient to have the effect of feeling like they were in the presence of something spiritual of a godly nature.
I didn’t have a drop of medicine and I have the report to prove it. I would also take a lie detector test publicly to prove that I had the NDE exactly how I said it happened. It happened and God is real.
Interrupting my thought, one of the nurses said, “Isn’t she beautiful?”
I snapped back to the present and I looked down at my baby for the first time.
I cried, “Oh heck no, nooooooo, she’s not!”
The baby’s head was smashed in on all sides. She still had the wire lodged into the top of her skull. When they removed it she had blood holes in the top of her head inside one of the dents where they had screwed the antennas and wires into her scalp.
I cried, “What did you do to my baby?”
The baby was delivered by forceps and Dr. Scorotchi had a hard time getting her out, so apparently he grabbed her head all around trying to pull her out and it really dented her head in on all sides.
She looked like an alien. I wasn’t shocked because of her look, I was mad because I thought the doctor damaged her and I was enraged.
Ironically, Sandy was freaking out, he thought he had damaged her head when we had had sex the previous day. Sandy asked the doctor when my mom left the room.
Dr. Scorotchi said, “I wouldn’t be too hung up on that buddy, I’m quite sure you wouldn’t have been able to reach her head with your penis.”
Dr. Scorotchi said it arrogantly, like he was pissed and insulted that Sandy would think his penis was long enough to touch a baby’s head in the womb.
When they explained her head would pop out and I got through being angry, my mind clicked over to mommy mode and I loved her instantly. She had a perfect little face. All of her fingers and toes. Wow, she was finally here. I never knew if I was going to have a boy or girl ahead of time, and I really wanted a girl.
She was perfect, just a perfect little beautiful creature. She was skinny as all get out, but perfect. Her little leg was about as wide and big as my thumb.
I let my mother name her, and she named her Lillie after my great-grandmother.
They took baby Lillie from me because of the issues with her birth and took her to the nursery, or NICU. I don’t know. The also had to take her because the doctor had to stitch me.
I guess when I was away in my little fantasy world, baby Lillie had torn me and Dr. Scorotchi told me he also had to cut me. Anyway, regardless, for such a tiny baby, I sure had a lot of stitches. I had a four-way tear. It was pretty long from front to back. I’m glad God spared me all of that without any pain medicine? I can only imagine.
I refused any pain medicine, because I wanted to breastfeed baby Lillie and I didn’t want to take any chance of any medicine getting to her and causing her harm. So, I opted for an all-natural birth. After all I had done to her during my pregnancy, it was the least I could do.
I worried every single day of my pregnancy after I got right in my head and came to my senses, if she was going to come out messed up as a result of all of my abuse and neglect during the early part of my pregnancy.
I had to quit being so selfish. The weird thing was, I was never selfish before I met Sandy.
I would absolutely give the shirt off my back to anyone in need. All of my brothers’ would. That’s the way our mother and father raised us and they wouldn’t have it any other way. Being with Sandy had really changed me into a big crybaby, self-concerned person, somewhat of a monster.
I say that because I whined, mostly to myself about all I didn’t have and how unfortunate my life was and how I had messed up everything. It was more of an internal fight, not an outward fight. That’s the truth of it all.
(I’m sorry mom, I have to keep this story truthful) Even though we were dirt poor growing up, and dirt poor is an understatement, we had love, and we had each other. We were raised to think of others and to be forgiving, loving and kind. I have always been down to earth and had tons of friends. Once people got to know me they were shocked, they would say I am nothing like they thought I was.
It’s so ironic, because my whole life, the people that didn’t know me, thought I grew up as some kind of rich and privileged princess who never had a care in the world, no hurt, no pain, and I just had a perfect life. My story in this book isn’t even close to being about the “bad” part of my life.
People, including doctors, most always solely judge me on my looks and my voice and nothing else. Doctors have always told me, “why you are perfectly healthy looking”. One doctor at the Mayo Clinic, at a later date in my life, after listening to my symptoms told me, “It would be absolutely impossible for someone like you and in your condition to be that sick and have all those things wrong with you!”
I had a lot of blood work and x-rays performed through different doctors and clinics that makeup the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota. All those reports come back to a primary doctor who is assigned to you.
After doing a quick physical exam on me, he opened the folder containing my records and results. He glanced for about 3 seconds, then he closed the folder holding my records and results. He said, “Everything looks great! All the results came back normal.” He told me nothing was wrong with me, I could get dressed and go home and then he proceeded to walk out of the room. I recorded the entire interaction.
I stopped him and said, “Wait a minute! What about the test results that show cancer cells in my cervix?”
He opened back up my records and came back in the room, he said, “Well, look at that there, the test results do show you have cancer cells on your cervix.”
I said, “What about the test results that show I have Rheumatoid Arthritis?”
He looked further at the testing and said, “Well, it does show here that you have Rheumatoid Arthritis.”
I said, “What about the test results that show I have nodules on my lungs?
He said still flipping through the test results, “Well, it does show you have nodules in your lungs.”
I rolled my eyes in irritation.
He said, “Well, we will have to schedule you for surgery immediately to have your cervix removed, etc.
I just kept thinking, what would have happened if I would have not done my own investigating by demanding copies of all my test results and y records? Would cancer have spread and I would have died? God was on my side and allowed me to see those results. God is good all the time!
I would walk through a room and people would say I was a snob and holding my nose up in the air.
The really crazy thing is, I am extremely terrified of people. When I walk through a crowd, I am almost frozen with fear, I am holding my nose up to keep from passing out, so I can breathe, I am so scared. I am terribly shy and people phobic. When they see snobbery, I feel utter panic. You know how people judge a book by its cover.
I grew up with rats, roaches and spiders as big as a shoe, without lights, water, heat and food. I don’t know how many mornings I was awakened by spiders and roaches running across my face, up my nose and crawling in my hair. The rats were so loud they sounded like an army of soldiers marching across the ceiling. Then the rats would steal the little food we had and eat it up.
It’s not that my parents were filthy people, we just lived in old shacks, sometimes with holes and the vermin would come in and live as they chose. From the age of 12 to 16 we lived in 5 or 6 houses.
It’s so funny, because I am a thousand percent opposite of what people think I am. My whole life I have been poor and sick, yet, I have always bent over backwards to help those who are even less fortunate than I was or am. I am a very loving and caring person. I would absolutely give someone my last bite to eat or even the shoes off my feet, I have never felt I was above anybody else, not ever. I would never try to hurt anyone, I have always been considerate of other people’s feelings. I always dreamed of being rich to help other people, not buy things for myself.
A new car, clothes, purses, shoes, and material things will never-ever mean anything to me, they just won’t. I would rather give that money to my family or someone else in need. It’s not how I am made. The second I get any money, after I give God his share, I immediately go buy my parents or brothers something. I have made more than one man mad, because of that. When they try to buy me something nice and I am not doing flips, it upsets them. I just don’t like materialistic things. Now, get me a new puppy, then I will do flips.
I am at my most happiest, giving to others. Whenever I get extra money, I don’t even buy myself stuff, I give money to my family and buy other people stuff, I always have. I just don’t brag about it and shout it from the mountaintops.
Back to Sandy and baby Lillie. I had also never been all about myself and a “woe was me” type of girl. I was ready to get back to my old self. I had cried and whined enough through my pregnancy to last a lifetime. It was time for the new me. I was a mother.
I gave birth to Lillie a month after my 17th birthday, but I was also an immediate woman the second she came into this world.
The staff and nurses at Lutheran Hospital were not very good. As I was lying in the hospital bed one day, I was very weak and as I looked down I realized there was a huge pool of blood in my bed and my arm was twice its normal size.
Apparently, one of the nurses had placed the IV outside my vein or something and the fluid was pooling up in my arms and it was leaking blood all over the bed.
Both Sandy and my mom had gone home to shower, change, and sleep. I had pushed the call button and a nurse didn’t come for two hours, so I got up and walked down the hall and almost passed out. I fell into the wall and then they came to help me.
I stayed in the hospital for a few days and, during that time, Sandy stayed with me. My mom and dad and brothers had to leave town for something. So it was just me, baby Lillie, and Sandy.
My dad had previously said that he approved of Sandy staying until the baby was born and that was helpful to me.
My mom and dad were due back home the next night after I was to be released from the hospital. Sandy drove me home from the hospital in the Montego he was purchasing from my dad, he was still making payments on it.
I settled the baby in her crib while Sandy plated the steak dinner the hospital sent home with all new parents. It took him about 30 minutes. I dozed off for a few minutes in the chair beside Lillie’s crib. When the dinner was prepared, I had Sandy carry baby Lillie and put her into her settee so I could keep a watchful eye on her.
I didn’t feel like eating a morsel of food, but I didn’t want to ruin the special dinner for Sandy, he seemed happy about it. I cut the food into miniscule pieces and pretended to enjoy it. I just wanted to go into the bedroom and sleep for about two months, I was exhausted.
Sandy and I had just sit down to have our steak dinner when the door opened abruptly and my mom and dad walked in.
I said, “Hi guys.”
Baby Lillie who had been fast asleep in her Settee beside the table, was a bit startled.
My mom said, “Hi, I see baby Lillie is sleeping, are you guys enjoying your dinner?”
I smiled and said, “It smells good, but I don’t feel much like eating, I don’t feel well, my…”
My dad went ballistic! He said, “Sandy, I thought I told you that you had to be out of here as soon as the baby was born?” When my dad said something he meant it literally, but I didn’t think he meant it that literally, we had only been home less than two hours.
Sandy got so mad that he stormed off. I didn’t hear from him for days. He didn’t call to check on the baby or anything.
When I finally spoke to Sandy again, he told me he didn’t have anywhere else to stay since his parents were gone and he had lost the key to his house, so he went to stay with an old girl “friend” he knew from high school and he couldn’t call me from her house. So that’s why I hadn’t heard from him.
Sandy told me it was because this girl Marcy’s parents thought that she and Sandy were dating. I asked him did he have sex with Marcy and Sandy said no and that they were just friends, but they did have to sleep in the same bed together, so Marcy’s parents weren’t suspicious.
For some reason Sandy loved to tell me things for shock value, he loved making me jealous. It was driving me crazy, I didn’t know which way was up dealing with Sandy between all of his games and lies.
I found out from Sandy’s parents when they arrived back home that Sandy was lying and he was able to get into his house the entire time they were gone. My mom and dad went back out of town again. Sandy’s mom and dad had come back in town, so he went back home to stay with them. While my parents were gone out of town I was at the house alone with my new daughter.
Everything went great the first day. I bonded with her and it was nice.
Sandy stopped by to spend a little time with her, he held her and fed her while I slept for a few hours. I really wasn’t supposed to walk or even lift a pound because of all the stitches, but I didn’t have a choice, I had to take care of my baby Lillie.
Obviously, Sandy didn’t want to stay with me for too long for fear my dad would come home on a vengeance. So he essentially left me to care for Lillie all alone. Outside of that one day, I hadn’t seen Sandy much anyway, it seemed his excitement had left, once he saw that he was a she. To me, it appeared like he wasn’t interested at all in being a father to a little girl baby.
The pain from the stitches began increasing. I was still alone and I had a hard time walking and picking the baby up. I had so many stitches and I was really sore. I thought, How could that tiny little bundle of joy, cause so much destruction?
Warning I’m sorry, but a gross scene is coming, it’s short but disgusting. It’s probably too much information, but I’m trying to keep the story real. I’ve had to leave out a lot of things already in this book.
This part is important so you understand what made me do what I did.
One day I could feel something weird and slithering down there. I thought I had got worms or something because there was a lot of movement, which isn’t a natural thing to be going on down in the private area.
When my mom called to check on me, I told her I thought there were worms or something down there and that there was something unnatural moving down there (in my private area). I was terrified to look. She had to keep coercing me to make me look. It took over an hour.
She told me to stay on the phone with her and stand over the floor mirror. I could not believe the horror in front of my eyes. I could barely talk.
To make a gross story short, it wasn’t worms, the movement I was feeling was the stitches un-looping themselves back through the holes Dr. Scorotchi had stitched. All the tears and cuts had opened back up.
My mom told me to get to the emergency room immediately. I needed to take Lillie anyway because she had the meconium situation, so she had to be checked for jaundice.
I called my Aunt Mae and she took me back to the emergency room. The doctor tended to me and told me I wouldn’t be able to lift any weight at all for 7-10 days. And he told me he was going to leave the stitches out. What the heck! How is it okay to leave all those open wounds, the ones the stitches were holding closed? Really? I just had a baby!
No lifting for 7-10 days? I didn’t know what to do. My Aunt Mae couldn’t come and stay with me because her husband was not okay with that, and she didn’t have any room at all for me and the baby in her small apartment.
The only choice we had was for her to take baby Lillie to her apartment. At least her husband was nice enough to allow that. Really, Sandy and his parents could have helped out, but Sandy refused to even tell them. I didn’t even know if they knew I had given birth or if they cared. I called Sandy, but he didn’t return my calls.
Even though Aunt Mae was keeping Lillie Marie, I seemed to be getting sicker. Aunt Mae was such a blessing to me. I had always loved her, she was always kind and caring to me. She taught me a lot of stuff.
It was really hard for me to let someone other than me keep my baby. I longed to feed her and nurture her. I missed that bonding period. But, I didn’t really have a choice since I could barely make it to the bathroom.
My mom finally came back in town and I got baby Lillie back from Aunt Mae. I thanked her graciously for helping me. I will never forget her help at that time when I so desperately needed it. Never.
I missed Sandy and I wish he would have been there for both the baby and me.
I hadn’t seen him for what felt like a month, but only a couple of weeks had passed. During this time, grandpa Normie was released from the hospital and came to live with us. My grandma worked the night shift at the hospital and she wasn’t able to care for him yet.
My brothers got booted out of their room and grandpa Normie moved into their room. Sick or not, I took care of him until my mom got home from work every day.
I would change his diaper and pour milk into his feeding tube every morning as soon as I got up and then I would feed and change baby Lillie.
I continued to help care for grandpa Normie and baby Lillie both and time moved along. I began feeling more physically sick and I suffered severe postpartum depression.
On top of all that, my dad wanted to put me out again, immediately. He was giving my mom ultimatums. What I had put my mother through, I could never forgive myself. I had caused her immeasurable pain and it was ongoing. She had never done anything to deserve the pain I was causing her.
I couldn’t bear the thought of splitting up my mom and dad again. They didn’t know it, but I could hear them fighting about me. My dad couldn’t deal with me having a baby at such a young age.
Dad felt Sandy should be working to get us our own place and be responsible like he had done with my mom. Even though we were poor, my parents were still on their own and self-sufficient. They had four kids under the age of 5 years-old, when they were 22 years old and they survived. They both worked and had jobs, so, dad felt Sandy should be able to do it with only one baby and me.
To my dad, it was inexcusable, but he didn’t understand that Sandy was not made like him. Sandy had grown up a mama’s boy with his dad being in the war. Sandy was pregnant when his dad got drafted. His dad didn’t even meet him for the first time, until he was like four I believe, when he came back from the Vietnam War.
I was discovering that Sandy was not a family man, at all, yet my dad just couldn’t see it. I had to get out of the house as soon as possible. I could not live with myself if I caused my parents to divorce. I would endure whatever pain I had to endure to avoid that.
I was still wondering when Sandy was going to come and visit his daughter and take us away like a responsible man should. I wondered what happened to all of his promises of love and marriage. I couldn’t believe he was missing out on us raising our daughter together.
Sandy said he didn’t want to come to my house because my dad hated him. This was a big unsolvable problem for me. I demanded Sandy take action and own up to his responsibilities. I told Sandy I was leaving and moving out, with or without him. I told him I would not be responsible for my parents’ divorce, period, and that we had caused their marriage enough destruction.
Sandy asked me to meet him down the street one day when Lillie was about three or four weeks old. It was a beautiful summer day, but hot, about 94 degrees out. I placed Lillie in the chest carrier and walked down the street to meet Sandy. I was worried about taking her out of the house on the street like that because of the germs in the air.
Sandy said, “Let’s get a place together and be a family.”
I said, “Sandy, you’re not even working.”
He said, “I just got a job, I love you, but I’m never coming over to your house again, baby or not.”
I said, “Sandy, do you even have any idea what the destructive results of our actions are? Do you know my parents have been fighting during my entire pregnancy over me? If my brothers have to grow up without their father because of me, somebody is getting hurt. You better step up and do your job as a man. I have to get out of my parents’ house.”
Sandy told me he had got a job, but he wouldn’t tell me where, which I thought was strange.
I came home from my meeting with Sandy and told my mom the good news that Sandy and I were going to get an apartment together.
My mom lost it!
She said, “Absolutely not! Sandy is not responsible and he has never even had a real job before!”
I said, “I know Mom, but he just got a job and he is going to take care of us that’s what dad wants.”
Mom said, “Where?”
I said, “I don’t know yet, but I will very soon.”
I begged my mom to let me be responsible and move out and get my own place. I just wanted to stop ruining their marriage.
My mom said, “Sweetie Bee, you just turned 17 a couple of months ago and I am still in control of you, I am still your guardian. You are not allowed to leave this house, and you are definitely not taking my granddaughter with you, no way!”
I said, “Please, mom? Please!”
My mom said, “You’re not leaving this house until you turn at least 18.”
After I put pressure on Sandy, my mind was flip-flopping. My mom was at the point where she was ready to destroy her marriage to protect me and her granddaughter Lillie. So my mind had shifted back to staying home, to avoid upsetting my mom any further. Sandy was then putting pressure on me to leave right away, within only a week of us meeting down the street.
My mom was right, the more I thought about his past actions, Sandy was not a responsible person, how could I trust him with all the stuff he had done in the past? I decided I would try to get an apartment by myself as soon as I turned 18.
I hadn’t even had a chance to tell Sandy I was not moving into an apartment with him, when there was a knock on the door. It was the US Military, the Army.
Two officers were there. They asked to come in. They informed us that Sandy had signed up for the service and he was enlisted. They asked for baby Lillie’s birth certificate.
They said in order for baby Lillie to receive support from Sandy, his name needed to be on her birth certificate. My mom disliked Sandy so much, she wouldn’t allow for his name to be placed on the birth certificate at the hospital.
The officers told us they would take care of it. They took her birth certificate and then returned it to us. We gave it to them hesitantly.
Knowing Sandy now, they were probably some of his friends at it was some kind of scam, who knows.
To make a long story short there, Sandy supposedly went AWOL, before he even started service and became a wanted man. Somehow, I’m not sure, he got out of it and they left him alone.
There is no telling what Sandy did to get out of it or if he was even enlisted in the Army anyway. He probably set the whole thing up, just so he didn’t have to get an apartment and take care of me and Lillie.
Sandy claimed his mom Irma had given him some money to get us an apartment. Sandy and I planned our getaway and I finally lost my mind just enough one night and went through with it. I packed all of Lillie’s things and a little bit of my stuff. I couldn’t carry everything and I only had one shot. My mom was a super detective, inch high private eye and she was very wise.
I took the screen off my bedroom window quietly. My plan was to leave the baby sleeping, while I ran our things up the street and put them in Sandy’s car. Then I would come back after I took all of our items to his car and get Lillie.
Yeah, epic fail, I got back to the screen and started to climb in it and I saw the hallway light flick on, I backed out of the screen, fell to the ground on my butt and laid low against the house. My room was the screened in porch in the back of the house. I peeked back up in the window, and it was my dad! He turned my bedroom light on and began pacing with anger. I guess baby Lillie must have started crying when I left or he heard some noise I don’t know.
I couldn’t believe what was happening, what were the odds? Lillie slept well through the night, and she hardly ever woke up at that point. I must have woken her up taking my things out. Now what was I going to do? I had just turned 17 and I didn’t think things out too well.
I was thinking about taking baby Lillie out to the car first, but I didn’t trust to leave her with Sandy. So I felt leaving her in her crib until I came back was the safest choice.
I tried night after night to sneak baby Lillie out while everyone was sleeping, but I never could. My mom had the windows nailed shut and she always had someone on guard.
I had no idea what move I was going to make next since I didn’t have a backup plan in mind. I was so foolish that I hadn’t thought everything through at all! How could I make my mom give me my baby back without fighting with her?
I got brave and I just called my mom and demanded for her to give me my baby and let me move out.
I just wanted the fighting to stop on all sides. I wanted my mom and my dad to get along and I wanted me and baby Lillie to be a family with Sandy. My mom flat out refused to comply.
My mom told me that if I tried to take the baby she would send me to juvenile detention and that I was still underage so she was not letting me take the baby.
She said, “I can’t make you come home, but you’re not taking baby Lillie.”
I was frantic, confused, and I cried non-stop every day. How did I even have any tears left? I didn’t know. I didn’t want to hurt my mom or start a war with her. She was a good woman, a really good woman, and a wonderful mother. The best mother anyone on this planet could hope for.
I decided to wait a week and see if she would change her mind. I felt she would grow tired of caring for a newborn and then she would call me to come pick Lillie up, but she didn’t.
In the meantime, Sandy snuck me into his mom and dad’s house to live there until our apartment was ready, or so he claimed.
I would sleep under his bed every night. It was a good thing I was a size 0. I had lost all the baby weight and then some, due to all the stress and sickness. Before pregnancy, I was at 115-120, during pregnancy, approximately 156, all I knew was I gained 36 pounds during my pregnancy.
Then about two months after I gave birth, I weighed about 98 pounds. I didn’t have anywhere else to go and my extended family looked down on me and treated me like an outcast for getting pregnant at 16. My grandma would call me vile names like “hussy” and “trollop” and my grandpa couldn’t even speak to defend me, because he was physically unable to.
I spent two or three weeks in hiding in Sandy’s bedroom. This was the start of the true end of our relationship. When it started going downhill, it went crashing like a racecar going 180 towards a dead end alley, with a brick wall at the end.
Sandy’s father Sr. worked the morning shift and his mom worked the nightshift, so one of them was usually home at all times. His little sister Millie was nine, I had to hide from her too and she was nosy. She never liked me for some reason unknown to me. Oh, I forgot, I destroyed her sweet and innocent brother’s life. I would guess it had something to do with Irma.
Sandy wasn’t allowed to bring food into his room, so I spent many days without eating a morsel of food or drinking a drop of water. I was literally starving and my clothes were falling off of me. My hair was falling out and my teeth were getting bad. Sandy barely showed his concern. He treated me as if I were a huge burden. It wasn’t like I had a lot of options waiting for me.
I couldn’t go to the bathroom or anything. I felt guilty for being a burden to Sandy and I didn’t really blame him for leaving me alone.
He got tired of just sitting in the room everyday with me, so he started going out and watching TV with his dad.
I could hear roars of laughter coming from the TV room. This was not how my life was supposed to be! I should have been a normal teenager, watching TV with , laughing, and play fighting with .
I was so resentful towards Sandy, he had largely contributed to the ordeal and he seemed to be doing the least suffering, if any suffering at all. He seemed to be quite enjoying his life.
How did I allow myself to be in this situation? It was a nightmare. One night of pleasure can bring a lifetime of agony and pain. Just look at what happened from that one choice I made. If any teenagers are reading this book, listen to me carefully. One night of pleasure, it took all of 5 seconds for Sandy to have an orgasm.
Look at the consequences of that 5 seconds. It wasn’t even enjoyable to me, it was very unenjoyable and painful. Look at how many lives were affected from that 5 second choice I made. Hold your breath for 5 seconds. That is how long it took to completely destroy and change my life. Not only my life, my mother and father, my brothers, Sandy, and his mom and dad. Let’s not forget about the innocent child. All from one foolish, very foolish 5 seconds of nothing!
I felt like I was trapped in a night terror, not a nightmare. The sad and inwardly sick feeling of it all was that it would not be ending anytime soon.
Nothing I could ever do would take me back to that time before I met Sandy. I felt sorry for myself a lot, I was depressed and my self-esteem was not low, for I didn’t have any at all, zero. My self-worth was in the negative.
Sometimes Sandy would sneak me food while his parents were there. But the rule in their home was no eating in the bedrooms.
The only time I could use the bathroom was when both of his parents and his little sister left on one of their family outings. That was the hardest part, I had to pee in jugs and sometimes hold it for extended periods of time.
To make matters worse, they lived in a brand new 700sq. foot house, with three bedrooms, so the rooms were very close together. All of the bedroom doors were literally only two feet apart from each other. So there was hardly any way of sneaking out.
Sandy started leaving me in the room longer and longer and I was alone, trapped by myself. A few times in particular I remember him coming into the room, after sitting and watching TV with his dad for hours. He watched sports for five and six hours at a time on game days and I would have to stay under the bed unable to move when he wasn’t in the room.
Some days Sandy would look at me and say, “I’m sorry I was out there so long, my Dad wanted me to stay out there with him. I told him I didn’t want to, but he was watching a bunch of shows with naked girls running around and he wanted me to watch them with him.”
Sandy would then go into graphic detail about each of the girls’ physical and sexual descriptions. I could hear Sandy screaming, “turn it up dad”, yelling for him to turn up the volume on the TV.
I was losing my mind, the mental games and awful tricks he was playing with my mind were unbearable.
I hated that he was making me feel jealous. I didn’t even know what jealousy truly was, until then. I had so much time alone everything was magnified. I tried everything I had in me to try to force myself to not be jealous. It was the constant pounding day after day in my head with him screaming and yipping and shouting lewd remarks with his dad to the girls on TV. I had no control over it.
He was saying things like, “Wahoo, you have some big tits, look at them bounce baby, look at that butt, kiss her, lick her, etc.” They were worse than that but those are some decent examples of the things that were being said. Sandy absolutely got off on mentally abusing and torturing me.
I asked Sandy to just keep whatever he watched to himself. Because, I was going crazy. He originally said he would, but that was no fun to him, he didn’t stop his torture for very long, he started it right back up again.
Sandy had so much fun knowing I was jealous. He and his dad thought it was hilarious, they were doing their own little Albert experiment on me, I’m sure of it. Google the Little Albert Experiment. It’s when you take something that didn’t bother someone and play mind games with their brains, so it gets in their brains and ends up bothering them.
He eventually would lie and say he was with his dad when he was watching the “after dark” pornos by himself out there. I found that out because he told me he had been lying about his dad. He would literally have a conversation back and forth with himself for hours and pretend like he was his dad, while he was sitting out there in the living room talking to himself.
What kind of sick person would do something like that and go to those extremes just to torture someone who is already hurting? I mean I had just given birth. Now, I’m wondering if he dad was ever out there at all and he was just punishing me.
I already looked like I was in a concentration camp, physically and that wasn’t enough for him, he wanted to do me in mentally. This was not the person I once knew. He sure hid his evilness for a long time. He never even said so much as an unkind word to me during our first year together. Why did he hate me so much now? Just because I had a baby? It’s not like I tricked him or something, he tricked me.
Sandy seem to feel a lot of resentment towards me. Like we were in the military and I was the enemy from a foreign country, I just didn’t get that. He told me his dad tortured him as a child, maybe he was doing what he had learned, but did he make that up too?
I was the mother of his child, he seemed to get turned on with pleasure from me and my pain. I hadn’t even healed from the stitches or lack thereof yet. I had gotten an infection from my wounds, probably due to staying under the bed and rarely coming out.
The fact that I was basically in a prison and without my baby just worked on my mind and I almost went insane. I was not used to that kind of hate, I came from a very loving and caring family, there was no hate ever involved, and I didn’t understand that level of cruelty. Especially towards someone you claimed to have loved and had a baby with.
I had never had an ounce of jealousy, but I was starting to wonder, since my mind was going crazy. Before, when Sandy was in California and he started playing these jealousy games with my mind, I would just cutoff communication, but now I was trapped and didn’t have any choice. I had to be subjected to it. I couldn’t go back home. I was a runaway. For all I knew my mom had filed a police report.
I would hear Sandy going on and on about how psychotically jealous I was of him for no reason and how I didn’t want nobody else to have or look at him. He would talk to his friends and family on the phone and tell them that. He lied and told them I killed his parakeet. I love animals, I would never kill a cute little bird or any other animal.
The more I was in isolation, the more my allergies started to act up. I had really bad allergies all of my life and the hardest part about being in this mini prison was holding my sneezes in.
I was allergic to dust, dust mites, and being under his dusty bed day after day was making me so miserable. I had to find somewhere else to live. I would sneeze constantly and my nose was always running. I had to sneeze deeply into a blanket to conceal the noise.
One thing I was noticing more and more, was that Sandy enjoyed not only making me jealous, but he seemed to take joy in my pain. That was not how he was before we had sex or I got pregnant. It was a true fairytale with him before he left for California. Sandy had definitely changed into a colder and more punishing person to me after I had the baby. I just felt so guilty for causing him to drop out of school, I took all the blame, even though he got me pregnant.
I couldn’t stop thinking about what a superstar Sandy would have been, if I hadn’t made him come back to be with me when I had the baby. It was a lot of guilt for me to carry thinking I had destroyed his life. If only I would have not complained and let him just finish college. I could see in some ways, how Irma was right to hate me.
I know Sandy was really adamant about having a boy and didn’t seem to be interested at all in having a girl, so maybe that was it. I didn’t know. Sandy’s mom Irma was another story, for she didn’t care what the baby was and she didn’t want her or Sr. having anything at all to do with me or the baby.
I just wanted to get out of there, I wanted to hold my baby again, I wanted to kiss her sweet lips, let her nurse on my breasts. I wanted to coddle and love her. I cried, I wondered if she missed me, I was her mother, she must.
Sandy’s mom hated me for destroying her son’s life and forcing him to come back from college. She hated me and she made it known. Not a person in Sandy’s family had ever even laid eyes on baby Lillie at that point. I think Sandy just ate it all up. I would be surprised if she wasn’t still breast feeding him. He could do no wrong in her eyes, he was an innocent angel.
I hadn’t changed, other than giving birth to Lillie, but Sandy had and I never was an evil pregnant woman. I had always been kind and nice to Sandy, especially once we were back together and he came back home.
That was until this event, the events that took place that day would alter my soul and relationship with Sandy for all eternity and I would never be nice to him or respect Sandy ever again like I had before.
One evening I was under the bed and I heard Sandy’s mom outside the bedroom door, I hurried, scuffled and scooted further back under the bed than I had been before. I had almost got caught before and I hurried to jump in the closet to hide. She had looked under the bed that day, I panicked. I couldn’t believe she didn’t catch me.
Sandy’s mom Irma opened the door and brought in some laundry and put it on Sandy’s bed. She paused and she stood there for what seemed like ten minutes or so. What the heck was she doing?
I was so scared that it felt like my heart would jump out of my chest, but she quickly shut the door and left.
I could hear Irma open the closet door and pause. Then she finally left the room.
I decided to push myself further into the corner in case she decided to look under the bed again. As I was pushing myself back in the corner under the bed, my elbows landed on top of a small stack of something that felt like paper or envelopes.
I climbed out from under the bed when it was safe after the entire family left and brought this stack of papers with me. Everyone, including Sandy, had gone on a family outing together, I took out the tall stack of envelopes. I almost had a heart attack when I read the outside of the envelopes.
They were addressed to a girl in Arizona and they were all from Sandy’s address in California. Letter after letter had been postmarked and marked return to sender.
Apparently, whoever the girl was, or her parents, did not want to receive these letters and they were all sent back to Sandy. There were about 30 letters in all, yet they were all unopened.
I was confused at first as my mind tried to comprehend what was going on. I opened them up and read a few of them. I hid them again when I heard the family pulling up. Every time they went out on a family outing I would read a few more until I read every last one of them.
My first thought was that Sandy was a downright stalker and he was stalking the hell out of this mystery girl. My feelings about men and the trust I once had, would be changed forever from what I read in those letters. I vowed to never ever trust another man as long as I lived on God’s green earth.
Sandy’s letters, written with his very own hand, and I should know since I received my share of them, were address to this girl named Martha Zenado in Tempe, Arizona.
They all said similar things one after another, such as, “Martha, you don’t know how much I miss and love you. I dropped out of college and left California after you left me.” They were no doubt love letters.
I continued to read.
Sandy went on, “I couldn’t stand to stay there Martha, with all the memories you and I had there in California, I tried to follow you to be with you forever in Arizona, but I could not find you.” At that point, I had to keep my discovery quiet until I read every last one. I wasn’t going to be stupid and say something to Sandy, only to lose my opportunity to read the rest of them.
It was the most contained I’ve ever had to keep myself, because the rage I was feeling at that moment was big enough to make me want to slice Sandy from ear to ear.
In these letters, Sandy was telling Martha how he loved her more than anything in the world and so on and so forth. Martha was being a little scandalous and apparently she gave Sandy the wrong forwarding address, and she didn’t want to be bothered with him. It didn’t mention sex, it was almost like he was stalking someone that didn’t want him and didn’t want to be bothered with him. That part I must admit I enjoyed.
So all the letters came back return to sender. As you can imagine, I just lost what little sanity I had left. Sandy’s parents had constantly reminded me how they sent for him to come back because he wanted to be with me and raise his baby.
They had reminded me the few times I spoke with them about how their poor sweet innocent son had essentially been trapped by the likes of a hooker, like myself and now he had to drop out of college so he could come home to be with me and my child.
Irma also reminded me of the money she had to send Sandy to come home and be with me and how now, because of me, her son would never finish college and would never have another chance to be in a professional group like that.
Irma had told me shortly before I snuck in their house, that it was my fault and that I should be grateful to even be in Sandy’s presence after all he had sacrificed for me and the only reason he came back here was because of me. They resented me horribly for making their son come back and drop out of college to be with me, for destroying their son’s life.
The feeling I had inside me was insufferable. I had spent months apologizing and kissing his ass for him missing out on college and ruining his life. I praised him often when I spoke to him for coming to be with me and baby Lillie, because he loved us so much. I felt so much love for him and I was so grateful.
I felt I had to put up with anything and everything Sandy did to me because I was indebted to him for him having to drop out of college. All I had gone through with that lying bastard? Just to find out it was all a lie from the pits of hell!
Words cannot explain the fury and betrayal I felt inside. I come to find out via the letters that he had dropped out of college a few weeks after he got there and went on a wild girl chasing spree. He then fell in love with Martha, the same girl who had returned his jacket to him that day he put me on hold on the phone when he was still in California.
Sandy was the one who was sick in the head. This was only one of the many elaborate setups he masterminded to go out of his way to torture me.
I found out that Sandy had called me on the phone and faked like he really wanted to talk to me because he missed me. Sandy then timed it out so the Martha girl would ring his doorbell and return his jacket while he was on the phone with me, so I could hear her voice. (This was that day back in California when he was going on about his jacket smelling like a girl’s perfume)
I think Sandy put me on hold on the telephone and pretended he went and had sex with her. He was always playing games. He pretended that he sent her home and got back on the phone with me.
I don’t think Martha ever gave him the time of day now, he was just stalking her. She probably had to transfer colleges to escape his psychotic butt. When she left him, graduated, moved away or whatever she did, Sandy felt he had nothing else to live for in California.
Sandy called his mom and didn’t utter a word about this Martha chick, instead Sandy begged and pleaded with his mom so she would send him some money to come back home. Sandy, of course, told his mom he was coming home to be with me and our precious baby. Irma sent him over $500 and a one-way plane ticket back home. He was no doubt having sex with some other girls in California, just not Martha.
I began crying so loudly with fury and contempt, I was whining like a 4-year-old throwing a temper tantrum. Sandy’s mom obviously heard me, I didn’t care, I would rather have moved into a gutter than be there at that moment.
I could hear her footsteps approaching Sandy’s bedroom door. I hurried and jumped in the closet as I heard her footsteps getting nearer. I don’t know why I did that, because I really didn’t care. Irma flung open Sandy’s bedroom door and walked right up to the closet door and opened it!
Irma said, “I knew it! What the hell is going on in here?”
I explained the whole story from beginning to end about me running away, the baby, and the letters. I was actually relieved, now that Irma knew the truth, she would be able to see that I wasn’t some scandalous skank and maybe she would want to take part in Lillie’s life and my life.
When Sandy came in the house, Irma had Sandy come in the room and she confronted him about the letters. Of course, Sandy lied and said it was some kind of joke or prank or something. He told Irma he was just writing those letters as a joke and that he and his friends were playing around with some girl that was their friend.
Sandy told his mom that he knew the letters would never get to the girl Martha that is why they were all returned.
I fell to the floor on my knees in the closet and then sat with my knees to my chest. Sandy looked down at me sitting in the corner of the closet, tears streaking my reddened face.
Sandy said, “Mom, look at her, she is insanely jealous, possessive and controlling, it’s not even a real situation! I can’t even have friends!”
I knew Irma would finally be on my side, so I felt such a sense of relief. Maybe she would kick his grown butt out and let me and Lillie stay there a while until we got on our feet.
She said, “Yeah, I can see that! You too don’t need to be together!”
She looked at me and said, “You are way too controlling, Sandy can’t even have any friends now since he met you! You guys really don’t need to be together, Sandy is young and should be enjoying his freedom!”
Of course, Irma believed every one of his lies.
I had to be the stupidest teenaged fool to ever roam the earth. Was I crazy? I had to be going schizophrenic, I was seeing things one way and they weren’t really that way, was I really losing my mind, I had to be, having that baby has really messed my mind up, I thought.
I really believed I was crazy and not worthy of Sandy. After all, my dad had even kicked me out and didn’t want me around. It’s easy looking in from the outside, but when you are in the midst of something like that it’s harder than it seems.
Sandy’s mom said I couldn’t stay and she wanted me out right away. That was no surprise. Apparently nobody wanted me around. She didn’t like me anyway. I got up and walked outside to the street, not knowing where to go. I started walking down the street and Sandy came pulling up beside me in his dad’s car.
Sandy’s dad was always fond of me and treated me kindly, like a father would when his wife wasn’t glaring at him. Sandy’s Dad gave him some money so he could get me a hotel room. I stayed there by myself for a week and then Sandy came.
He told me in order for his dad to keep paying he had to stay there with me. I didn’t care, I was getting sicker and dangerously thin, I felt close to death. I was bedridden every day for some time. I could barely bathe myself. I got some medication from the hospital for the infection in my body. They wanted to keep me, but I told them I had nobody to take care of my baby, so they reluctantly released me to Sandy’s care.
I was almost catatonic, I felt barely alive. Sandy had to spoon feed me broth or soup, and water, I had no desire to eat, drink, or live. My tongue and throat had swollen and I could barely breathe or swallow.
Sandy almost looked like he was feeling guilty for a moment about what he had done. He promised me he would change and begged my forgiveness.
I called my mom one day when I was feeling a lot better and had put some weight on. Mom said if I was doing well, she would bring Lillie out for a visit. I promised her I was, but I barely was. My mom would have lost it if she would have saw how I looked, half-dead. The last thing I needed was for her to demand I come home and to then have my dad leave again.
The thought of having Lillie in my arms once again, it breathed a new life into me. I bathed and ate and kept myself up for two weeks then I called and set up a meeting for a few days later to make sure I looked halfway alive.
Sandy got a job working in the vault at a major bank to my surprise. We ended up moving out of the hooker motel his dad had set us up in. I was still very grateful for it no matter what it was, it was a place to stay.
We ended up moving to and staying in this nice (for poor teenagers) motel for about a month, we were living real nice, and Sandy was kissing my butt, treating me like a queen again.
Finally, the day came for me to see Lillie again. I dressed in the best outfit I had, my cheeks were still slightly sunken in. I was still very ill, but I was pacing the room with anticipation. I cleaned the room probably twenty times I was so nervous. I just wanted it to be clean and germ free for her.
When I set eyes on Lillie again, she took my breath away. God, she was beautiful and precious. She was four months old then. How could I have missed out on three months of my own child’s life?
She was no longer the tiny fragile and delicate doll I had last held, she was round and chubby, with beautiful astonishing brown doe eyes, and beautiful black long shiny curly hair. She had powder smooth tan skin, plump little lips, and she was just fantastically beautiful. My baby? Wow! She had the cutest little frilly baby pink dress on with a pink head bow and little pink frilly socks and white satin baby shoes. How could I have made something so beautiful, with such a heinous evil and vile creature?
My mom went to hand her to me. I was scared, I had not held her in so long. I felt awkward. My mom handed me her bag, explained her eating and changing schedule and then she went to get in her car and leave.
We had been standing outside of the motel the entire time, in front of our room, the motel was all white and only one level with about fifteen to twenty rooms, in three different buildings arranged in the shape of a horseshoe.
The parking lot was all gravel. Sandy was at work, he seemed like he couldn’t care less about seeing Lillie. I tried to set it up so he could be there, but he was uninterested. I didn’t understand how someone could not want to see their own child.
I told Mom she didn’t know how much I appreciated her bringing Lillie to see me. I couldn’t believe she was entrusting me to keep her all by myself. She told me she would be back later. I promised my mom I would not steal her and run away with her and my mom trusted me.
I cried as I held Lillie, rocking her and caressing her face and hair. Then I told myself to stop, before I stressed her out or she picked up on my emotions. So my sadness turned to gladness. I played with her and smiled, I sang to her and read to her. I wanted her to remember me as nice and good and loving, so she would be happy to see me again.
My mom came back to pick her up as scheduled. I played it cool and thanked my mom, like Lillie leaving was not a big deal. My mom said, “When you get yourself together and you get established, I will give her back to you, okay?” I gave my mom a hug and she and Lillie took off down the busy street as the sun went down.
I stood in the gravel lot, in the dust my mom had kicked up as she left and watched my mom’s 1970 slightly rusty powder blue Bonneville, get further and further away.
I ran back into the motel room and threw myself ion the bed. I cried and mourned her departure from me for a full week and then I decided to get my act together to show my mom I was worthy of being her mother. I still called my mom several times a week and asked her to give me baby Lillie back.
Sandy was making really good money at the bank. My mom began bringing baby Lillie to see me more and more at the hotel when she saw we were doing well, so we could start bonding again. I loved my daughter very much and I wanted so much to be her mother again, not just some girl that gave birth to her. She was a little angelic sweetheart, a true blessing from God.
My mom finally gained trust in me and she said I could have baby Lillie back temporarily, just to try things out. She was 4-5 months old at that point I believe. I loved Lillie’s perfect little hands and her cute dark little curls. She was so beautiful and I loved being her mother. The motel was starting to get too expensive for us, so Sandy talked with his mother and begged her to let us stay with her temporarily, until he found us a permanent place.
We moved in that same day. Sandy finally paid my dad in full for the pea green 1975 Mercury Montego he sold to him. At least we had consistent transportation to get to work and get Lillie to the doctor and stuff. Things started to go real well for us, and even though we were living with Sandy’s parents, they all started to bond with Lillie.
His grandmother even came to visit for the summer and cared for Lillie Marie too. They all held, cuddled, and cooed over baby Lillie every day. I really felt like I was becoming a part of their family.
Lillie had begun to start pushing herself across the floor. Sandy’s grandmother Merle, his mother’s mother, fell in love with Lillie and started liking me a little bit too. Grandma Merle was really nice to us and she treated Lillie like the precious little angel she was.
It was Lillie, my little angel that bonded us all together and made us close. Irma and Merle would tell me to go get some rest while they both kept an eye on Lillie, I welcomed that. I was tired and needed some sleep. I was still sickly and exhausted all the time.
Things were going fine for a month or two at Sandy’s parents’ house. His sister Millie, Grandmother Merle, Lille, Sandy, and I ate dinner together frequently. We watched movies together. I went to visit my family too, and everyone was getting along well. It was nice and going well.
Sandy and I had a lot of deep conversations and he apologized for everything he did wrong to me without admitting any fault for the Martha situation, for he still claimed it was just all a joke. Even the part where he had told me one day that he slept with her. I knew he had slept with some girls, but just fantasized about sleeping with her. I could tell in the letters he wrote to her, he was just obsessed with her, but she wanted no part of him.
Sandy really played havoc on my mind, and in all honesty, I had lost perception of what a lie was, what the truth was, and what reality was anymore.
Everything was going so well, too well I guess, one day out of the blue, Sandy started getting calls from random girls. I knew most of his “girl” friends and he talked to them all the time, I would even talk to them sometimes.
However, these girls were not his friends, I could tell by the nature of the conversation he was having with them. They weren’t anybody I knew to be his friends. He would talk to them and flirt with them right in front of me, while we were all sitting around watching TV with his parents. He would ask them what they were wearing, things of a sexual nature.
I would be sitting on the couch with the baby and Sandy would start talking to these other girls as if I didn’t exist. It got to the point where he started being blatantly ignorant. He would say stuff like, “Yeah, no, I’m not busy, I’m just sitting here with my grandma, my mom, my dad…and my sister.”
I could see the evil in his eyes. He would laugh after he intentionally left me and baby Lillie out of the bunch. I could see he was back to his old evil ways again. It was like he just couldn’t stand for anything to be good for too long. He was not happy, unless he got me upset, sad or mad about something.
One day we were home alone and it was just me, baby Lillie, and Sandy.
I said, “What in the hell is wrong with you disrespecting me like that?”
Sandy said, “This is my house! You don’t own me!”
I said, “I don’t want to own you, but why do you always have to plan mind games with me and torture me? You can’t stand for anything to be nice or good. You don’t even have to play these games, it’s unnecessary. Don’t you want us to be happy for Lillie? Is it because I don’t work? Your mom or my mom can watch Lillie and I can get a job, that’s an easy fix.”
Sandy said, “I don’t care! Do whatever you want to do!”
I said, “I’m trying to figure out what is upsetting you. What am I doing wrong that is upsetting you?”
He said, “I want to be able to talk to anyone I want on the phone without you looking at me funny.”
I said, “Sandy, I have never complained when you talk to your friends on the phone, including girlfriends, they even tell you to put me on the phone and we all laugh together. But, I’m not going to sit back while you talk sexually to a girl you just met the other day and are now calling your “friend”. That’s not right, I would never do that to you.”
Sandy said, “You can talk to whatever boy you want to I couldn’t care less, even if you just met him yesterday. I want to be able to do the same thing. My mom always talks about you being controlling and controlling me!”
I said, “Okay Sandy, we aren’t going to make it, I’m getting my stuff and I’m going to leave. I take a lot of stuff from you, but you are not going to sit there and disrespect me to my face, I’m not made that way. I have taken all I can take from you Sandy.”
Sandy walked into the kitchen and I went into the room and packed up mine and the baby’s things and sat them by the front door.
Then I turned around and headed to the bedroom to get Lillie, as I turned the corner to go to the bedroom, there was Sandy. I didn’t even see him go into the bedroom, but he was holding Lillie’s settee with her soundly sleeping in it; in his hand.
Sandy said, “You’re not taking my baby anywhere, and if you ever try to I will steal her and you will never see her again!”
I said, “Give her to me! I am tired of you treating me this way and I’m not taking it anymore. I have tried everything in my power to be a family for Lillie. I was just hoping and praying you would change your ways if I was good to you. You can see your baby whenever you want, but you have never even shown her any interest at all. I would never ever keep her from you, but I don’t want to be any part of you anymore!”
Sandy violently pushed pass me, pushing me into the wall, and he snatched the baby’s bags which I already had sitting by the door.
He ran out the door with Lillie, put the baby in the car, and sped off with me hanging onto the door all the way up the street. I ran inside and called the police, but they said they couldn’t do anything because he was the baby’s father. I waited by the window for him to return. Sandy’s parents pulled up and I told them what had happened.
Irma, Sandy’s mom said, “Just calm down Sweetie Bee. Lillie is Sandy’s baby too, you can’t be so possessive with her. He is her father and if he wants to take his child for a ride without you with him he should be able to do that!”
They told me Sandy wouldn’t do anything to hurt his child.
I ran off down the street, I circled all the nearby streets hoping to see Sandy drive by. I waited out on the curb for hours until it got too late and then I went inside. I was panicking. Sandy kept Lillie out until 2:00am and then finally came home. I was so pissed I didn’t know what to do.
Sandy just brought her carrier inside the front door with her bags, dropped her off, and left. Her diaper was soaked it was bulging with urine, it hadn’t been changed since he took her, and she was crying and hungry. After that night, he started staying out late every night and some nights he wouldn’t come home until 6:00a.m.
I told myself, that’s fine, two can play that game!
I started getting my mom to watch Lillie while I went out to the club. One of my friend’s sisters, whom I resembled, let me borrow her I.D. and I could get into the clubs even though I was only 17-years-old.
I started losing my mind for real, post-partum depression was taking its toll and life was taking a bigger toll. I started drinking for the first time in my life and I started smoking Newports too. OE and Mad Dog were my drinks. I began to stay out late every night. I was tired of being a good girl. All being a good girl had done for me in life was got the hell stomped and abused out of me.
Sandy and I started getting in a lot of fights. He started going to town on me trying to cut me down to nothing. He was calling me very degrading names like whore, slut, flat chested witch, and every ugly filthy vile name he could come up with for me.
He would tell me all the time that nobody would want a saggy stretched marked titty, saggy stomach, whore like me that had a baby.
Sandy would say, “You think any man would want you? You had a baby when you were 17, you are filthy and useless, and no man would want you! What man would want you?!” You are a fat and ugly, sagging and disgusting slut. Look at all the other healthy and beautiful teenage girls with perfect bodies, WITHOUT stretchmarks, fat and sagging skin, why would anyone choose you over them? You repulse me, you are despicable!”
Sandy upped and continued his bad behavior. I began to not care about anyone or anything anymore. I found out that Sandy had been stealing from the vault at the bank he worked at. One time I caught him doing drugs in the bathroom. He was spiraling out of control. I told him I was not going to be with anyone that did drugs or stole from their job. Like he really cared what I thought, he started cussing me out and he dumped the drugs in the toilet.
Sandy was way weirder than the average person and I mean weird as in psychotic weird. He would say things that were almost schizophrenic in nature. He was always trying to get people’s attention. I thought I was border schizoid, but he took home the grand prize.
You could never tell when Sandy was lying, he would go to extremes to make up a lie for a lie, sometimes intentionally making himself guilty for something he wasn’t even guilty of, just to get attention. He was just flat out weird.
I had this feeling that maybe the drugs were not real and that he was just trying to get some attention. I couldn’t tell, he just become such a bizarre person. I stood in the bathroom doorway staring at him. After he flushed the toilet and the “drugs” went down, he started brushing his teeth and washing his face frantically with soap that was lathering into quite a foam.
He went into ranting and raving about different things. Sandy’s parents and little sister were gone from the house.
I said, “Sandy, I’m not trying to nag you or be your mother. I’m here for you, if you need some help.”
As he continued to frantically lather his face, he said, “You don’t know what it’s like having a drug addiction!”
I said, “What drug are you addicted to, we can find someone to help you, I can look someone up in the phonebook. We don’t have to tell your parents.” He refused to tell me what drug it was, he said he felt that wasn’t important.
He turned and looked at me with the evilest look in his eye, like he was possessed.
He said, “Maybe if I was getting more sex from you, I wouldn’t have to turn to drugs!”
I started to say something and he slammed me up against the bathroom door. His face and hands were still soapy. He rubbed the back of his soapy hands in my eyes, intentionally to burn them and then he threw me out into the hallway against the wall.
My head hit the wall hard and left a dent in the wall. I fell to the floor grabbing the back of my head, it was throbbing, and then he jumped on top of me while I was lying on my back.
He then screamed, “Listen to me, bch!”
That’s all I heard, because my eyes started burning so bad from the soap that was dripping off of his face. He made sure he positioned his face just right so that the soap would drip directly into my eyes.
He pinned me down so I couldn’t move and forcefully held my head still. Sandy did one thing really well and that was he knew how to torture with precision.
Sandy looked at me with the devil in his eyes and mockingly said, “Oh, I’m sorry, does that burn you?”
I nodded my head yes, still crying. I knew I couldn’t overact or show too much of any emotion or he would dial up the torture, he fed off any signs of pain I would exhibit.
Sandy said, “Good, you deserve it!”
He just sat on top of me, holding my hands to the ground on the hallway floor. I couldn’t breathe, he had all of his weight on my chest. I was panicking inside, but I knew it would get worse for me if I moved at that point. He slowly let all the soap and sweat drip from his face into my eyes until his face dried up, it felt like it took forever, but it was a good ten minutes.
It took everything I had not to show any signs of pain or sadness. Sandy laughed psychotically in my face as I squirmed around. When the soap dried up, he let spit slowly drip from his mouth into my eyes, nose, and mouth.
As I lay there pinned down enduring his torture, I tried to come up with reasons why a man would torture someone in the ways Sandy was torturing me, especially his child’s mother. I was raised to be kind and loving, me and my brothers all were.
We were not mean, evil, or hateful people. I just couldn’t see how having a baby that he put inside me himself, would make him hate me so much. I just could not grasp and understand it. It was like he had me under an evil spell I could not get out of and fly in a spider’s web.
It wasn’t as if I tricked him and trapped him, if anything I was the one who was tricked and trapped. I just didn’t know where Sandy was getting this vehement hate for me from.
There are some people who can’t really see themselves and they try to peg themselves as being so innocent when they really are not. I’m not one of those people. I was nice to Sandy, maybe I shouldn’t have been.
When he finally let me up, I tried to run into the one bathroom in the house, but Sandy blocked the door and went inside the bathroom himself and locked it. He didn’t want me to be able to wash the soap out of my eyes, so I ran to the kitchen sink and washed my eyes out, so I could see.
I took off running outside, I couldn’t breathe and I was scared. At least he made a point to torture me when Lillie was visiting my mom most of the time, so she wasn’t present. I had nowhere else to go. My dad wouldn’t let me come back home and I didn’t have anywhere else to stay.
Even if I had money, I was too young to get a hotel room so I felt like I was stuck, and I was ensnared like a mouse in a trap. I started pacing back and forth in the front yard trying to suck in some air.
Sandy ran out the door and I thought he was going to hurt me again, so I started running. He caught me and snatched me up, he grabbed me and hugged me and told me he was sorry.
He stroked my hair and kissed me. Sandy carried me back into the house and made gentle love to me, it was all becoming a sick game to him. My mind was so messed up from the whole ordeal. I started to become extremely jealous and possessive of Sandy, because he would stay out all night and leave me and Lillie in his bedroom alone.
Sandy would tell me several times a day that I was losing my mind and I was crazy and that I was making up the things he was doing to me. He would tell me I should be committed. He would do stuff like stay out all night and then when I woke up in the morning, he would say I had imagined it and that he really never left.
He would look at me and say, “Why I’ve been here all night, sleeping right beside you. You really are losing it.” Sandy did stuff like that all day long to me.
I cannot put into words the elaborate lengths that Sandy would go through to deceive someone, it wasn’t just me, he did it to everyone. That’s why part of me knew I wasn’t the one crazy, he did it to everyone he knew, he lied cheated, tricked and deceived them.
He would take my stuff and move it and swear I was crazy and that I imagined I put it there. Things like that.
For a while, I truly believed that he was telling the truth and that it was me imagining things. There was a secret weapon I had though and that was God. God always let me know that it wasn’t me. God helped me keep sense of reality at even my lowest points.
I didn’t have a car or a dime to my name at that time, so I was just stranded. Sandy normally got home from work at about 4:30p.m. For some reason, he would always go in the basement since he had a small stereo system and a mattress on the floor where he would lay and listen to music.
He would stay down there for hours and never even talk to me or help me with Lillie. One time I got really jealous because when I came downstairs to talk to him, he was staring at Janet Jackson’s album cover and he was just ignoring me. I mean I felt offended, because he had been ignoring me for about three hours and we were home alone.
At that point I had become equally mad. I had gone crazy, almost just as crazy as he was. I was so angry, I didn’t even know what was wrong with me. I had jumped off the crazy boat and landed on psychotic land. I cussed Sandy out and slammed the door and went back upstairs. I had really lost my mind and I was turning into a maniac.
We started playing sick games with each other. I finally found out what the special trips to the basement were about. I knew there was some reason he was going down there all the time and it wasn’t just to be innocent and listen to music.
One day I was laying downstairs on that same mattress, listening to music, looking up towards the ceiling. I thought, this is pretty relaxing. I guess I am overreacting, this is nice and easy. I can listen to music and get a real peace of mind.
I closed my eyes as I lay listening to the Isley brothers, Between the Sheets. When the song ended and the next one was coming on I opened my eyes up and they drifted towards the ceiling, my eyes followed the central air ducts and heat vents.
I saw a little piece of paper or something sticking out, so I got a chair and got on my tippy toes to see what was on top of the vents or ducts.
I felt along the top of the vents and I felt a lot of books. There were about a fifty different stacks of magazines along all of the ducts and vents. Each stack had 4-5 magazines in the stack. I pulled a stack down and my eyes got bigger than a fishes out of water.
There was hardly any space on top of any of the vents in the basement that were not lined with pornographic magazines. There had to be at least a hundred of them. They were the most disgusting porno magazines I had ever seen in my life. Even today, these kind of magazines would be beyond bizarre. I almost fell off the chair. All I will say is, women and garbage cans and big objects. White men with black women.
Of course, I never wanted Sandy to go down to the basement again. Every time he did, we would fight. There wasn’t a week that went by that we did not have some sort of fist fight. To this day I have never laid eyes on anything as perverted and filthy and unreal as those magazines, because that pornography, even for the ‘80s, was way ahead of its time.
Sandy had shared a disgusting and perverted secret with me after I found the pornos, about his past and I definitely didn’t trust him anymore. Sandy would all of the sudden demand I let him take Lillie alone. I really didn’t trust his perverted sick butt to take my daughter anywhere. Not even for a second. Especially after I learned his secret and he had been in the basement with all the sick pornos.
Sandy would become irate. It was just another sick game of his. Sandy had never ever shown any interest in Lillie at all, I mean at all. So, there was no reason, other than for him to mess with me, for him to want to watch her or take her anywhere.
Once he found out that I didn’t trust him or want him to take her, it was his mission to torture me about it. Before that I used to beg him to watch her and take her and spend time with her and he always refused.
He started saying, “I want to take Lillie alone. I want to change her diaper.”
I would say, “No.”
He would come and sit beside me on the couch while I was holding onto her for life, not letting her go, and he would punch me.
He would say, “Give her to me, give her to me, give her to me,” while he was hitting me with each phrase, punching me in my arms, legs, and chest.
Sandy never wanted to really take her though. He just wanted to fight me. He wasn’t a dummy either for he would never hit me in my face where other people could see it. I still stayed with him.
I had my father growing up and I was willing to take anything he dished out to me to keep us together. Besides, I had nowhere else to go anyway. Sandy would call me names all the time and belittle me. He would tell me that nobody else wanted me.
He would still constantly tell me no other guy would ever touch me, because the baby had made my breasts saggy, I had stretch marks, and a fat stomach. I now totally believed him.
I weighed 110 pounds, so I was hardly fat. I wore a size 14 in kids’ clothes, but I believed every word he said to me back then. Sandy told me constantly that nobody would ever want a flat chested whore like me.
He told me he wished he would have dated one of my cousins instead of me. That really hurt me. Even though 75% of our relationship was bad, we still had some times when we got along.
Sandy still worked at the bank, so I was never on welfare. However, Sandy began getting greedy, in would come his destructive nature again when things were going well. It was time for him to start destroying stuff, nothing could be good for too long with him. He started leaving the car with me and I would pick him up from work. One day he was walking down the sidewalk towards the car. I looked at him and the way he was walking something looked strange, he was walking weird. He got in the car.
I said, “Are you okay? Did you hurt your leg?”
He said, “I’m fine, enough with the questions, can we get something to eat?”
I said, “Fine.”
I couldn’t figure out what was so weird about him and the way he was walking. I finally figured it out one day. I went to pick him up and he got into the driver’s seat, I leaned over towards him for something and accidently brushed his leg.
I said, “What the heck is that?” Sandy ignored me, I felt up and down his leg and I still couldn’t figure out what I was touching. It was a bunch of weird shaped objects.
I said, “What is that Sandy?”
Sandy started smiling and said, “Wait until we get home and I will show you.” I could hardly stand to wait the anticipation was killing me.
When we got into the bedroom, Sandy took off all of his clothes and I had never seen anything so unusual. You have to imagine this, okay? He had quarter rolls, like what you get to wash clothes with, strategically taped vertically, row after row, almost over every inch of his body.
He must have laid a big, long, real sticky type of tape on a table or a floor and then laid the quarter rolls on it, so that they would stick to it real good, and then Sandy would carefully tape these quarter rolls onto his body.
The pieces of tape were all different sizes and he had lines of quarter rolls taped around his waist, around his back, his ankles, his thighs, and his upper arms. So when I saw him walking out of the building and he was walking funny, it was because he had those quarter rolls taped all over him. He would be sweating like a horse.
Only a sociopath would think of something so inexplicable. Remember, I told you before he was a big man. He had to be, because those quarter rolls weighed a lot. He was also walking weird and slowly, because of the sheer weight of what he was carrying on his body.
Things finally started coming together for me. This explained why Sandy would only wear baggy black pants every single day to work, and a big loose white shirt long sleeved dress shirt. I did not approve of this little scam he was doing at all. I told him, “You’re going to go to prison Sandy. I don’t want any part of it and I don’t want any money from it. You are not taking me down with you.”
I asked him, “Then what’s going to happen to us?”
He continued to steal quarters. I already knew Sandy couldn’t care less about my feelings anyway, so it was no surprise that he wouldn’t heed my warnings.
Eventually, I turned my cheek and adapted, but I would not let him buy me anything with the money. However, he did buy baby Lillie things. Sandy would cash them in a couple rolls at a time at different stores. He would even drive out of the city to cash them in.
He said nobody would be suspicious of his activities if he did it that way. I would just stare at him sometimes when we were driving around in the car and I would think to myself about what kind of a person could come up with all of these schemes.
Sandy was always full of a scheme, he never ever wanted to do anything the right way. He always wanted to take a short cut. Sandy would fill the gas tank up on the car and then give the gas station attendant some big sob story. He would promise to pay him back saying he didn’t have any money, because back then they went for that kind of thing. The gas station attendant would always let him go. And Sandy would have a pocket full of money and never return.
I was astonished. I had never seen such a smooth criminal. I guess that was the way he got me too. I just always held out with hope thinking he was going to change back to the person he was the first year we dated. I knew that person existed, I was with him, and I always believed Sandy could return back to being that person again.
One time we went to the bank and he started getting careless. He put a whole bag of quarter rolls in the drive through the kind of tube that travels underground to get to the teller window. The quarters were so heavy that the tube got stuck underground.
The bank teller said she would have to get our name and address to give us our money. She said they would have to dig the ground up with a jack hammer to get through that whole concrete section of the bank’s parking lot, just to get the tube out that was stuck.
It would take about a week and then she would give Sandy a call. The teller asked Sandy to come inside and fill out the paper work.
Sandy said, “Okay I will pull around to the door.” Then he sped off.
Sandy was famous for taking off. He would steal gas almost weekly. If the gas attendant wouldn’t sympathize with him, he would fill the tank up and skip out on the bill. He never got caught that, I know of, for the gas.
However, the bank did find out Sandy had been robbing them and all they did was send him some papers and say if he didn’t pay them back $500 that they would send him to jail. They still let him work there.
He got off easy, but he always did. I estimated he had taken about $10,000 at that point. Sandy quit stealing and then he got fired from his job for something else crooked he was doing. He started getting even crazier.
One day I picked Sandy up from work, before he got fired and it was our anniversary. I told him I had fixed his favorite dinner and had a surprise waiting for him at home.
Sandy said, “I have a big surprise for you too, but you have to drop me off at the mall, so I can get it.”
I was astounded. I wondered why he was being so nice. He was smiling and gave me a kiss. I started to park in the mall’s parking lot.
Sandy said, “No! You can’t stay here, I’ll get the surprise and then I will be home in about an hour at the most, alright?”
I said, “Sure.” I was excited to see what he was going to get me.
Then he gave me a kiss good-bye! I was so excited that I rushed straight home and warmed up the food. I had made a beautiful heart cake to celebrate our anniversary.
I had a talent for making and baking cakes. I slipped into something nice, and waited for him to return. I waited, and waited, and waited. After five hours had gone by though, I was so upset.
I told myself not to get mad and not to jump to conclusions, and that he would have a real good reason as to why he is so late! I told myself, He could have had to go to several other stores to find your surprise, you don’t know. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. I finally heard the keys in the door and I got all excited again, even though Sandy was really late, I couldn’t wait to see what he had gotten for me!
When he first walked in the door, I said, “Are you okay?
He smugly replied, “Yeah… why wouldn’t I be? I knew something was wrong from that answer.
I said, “Oh, okay, I just thought you were coming right back home, after the mall because it is our anniversary.”
Sandy said, “Well you thought wrong, I’m tired of you trying to control me!”
I said, “So you weren’t at the mall to get me something for our anniversary?”
He said, “What?”
I said, “My surprise, what did you get me for our anniversary?”
Sandy said, “You are one crazy bitch! Your imagination is out of control”
He said, “I didn’t get you shit! I didn’t get you anything! I told you I wouldn’t be back for a while and I had to take care of some business, which is none of your business.”
Sandy truly had me convinced I was the one who was schizophrenic for a while, I felt like I was trapped in some kind of Twilight Zone movie or something.
I was so pissed I went into the kitchen took the chocolate heart cake I had made for him and threw it in the garbage, and then I added all of the Chinese food dishes I had made. He started screaming, “What in the hell do you think you’re doing!!”
He didn’t really care. I just kept frantically scraping, until every bit of the dinner was destroyed. I hated him so much at that moment. I wanted to kill myself, but I wanted to kill him even more.
But, I stayed with his ass, we carried on like the crazy whacked out dysfunctional family we were. We started spending more time with Sandy’s parents. We would watch movies with them and go for drives together.
The next major altercation started with the phone ringing when his parents were there.
I said, “I got it”. We were all watching a movie and having a nice family day.
There was a girl on the other end and she asked for Sandy, I gave the phone to him. His parents didn’t approve of me questioning any girl that called their home so I had to give the phone to Sandy.
Well I gave him the phone, I knew he had girls that were really his friends and I didn’t care. Sandy was staying on this call a particularly long time though and we were supposed to be having a nice family time, watching movies.
About an hour into the call, I got up to use the bathroom and investigate, but as I was walking to the bathroom, I stopped in the hallway because I overheard conversation that didn’t just sound like a man talking to a friend. The house was small and I could hear well.
Sandy was talking in a very sexual manner to whoever was on the phone and he was asking the girl what she had on and that type of thing, so I used the bathroom and then I went into the kitchen. Sandy had pulled and stretched the phone cord and was sitting on the basement stairs, talking to this girl.
I opened the basement door and said, “Sandy, will you please hang up the phone? I need to speak with you.”
He says, “No, I’m talking to my girlfriend.”
So I ripped the phone out of his hand and took it upstairs with me. I was just fed up. Well, I shouldn’t have done that, because that started a long string of real domestic violence. Later on the same night we were in the bedroom. Sandy started getting madder and madder, because I had snatched the phone from him earlier.
I was just sitting on the bed, reading, and Sandy sprung up off the edge of the bed and leaped on me like he was Superman flying through the air. He pinned me down to the bed.
Lillie was out in the living room with his family.
Sandy said, “You are a filthy, rotten, low down, scum of the earth, nasty, and ugly looking whore bitch! I hate your guts! I hate you!”
He was speaking low and vulgar with hatred under his voice.
I said, “Get off me Sandy, you’re hurting me!”
Sandy was on top of me, laying all 230 pounds of his weight deadly on me to make it hard for me to breathe. He had my knees pinned up to my chest. His chest was pressed against the shins of my legs.
With shallow breaths I said, “Sandy, I can’t breathe.” His favorite thing was to suffocate me, because he knew I had problems with my lungs.
I started praying to God, I asked God to please always make sure my baby was taken care of and to make sure my mom got her so Sandy didn’t hurt her and I asked God to forgive me for my sins. I was suffocating, I couldn’t breathe, and I was dying. I sipped air.
Sandy eased up on me so I could breathe and he acted like he was getting up off me all the way, so I started straitening my legs out. They were cramped from being bent with so much pressure on them.
Just as I started to get up, Sandy jumped back on me with full force and bent my legs back up to my chest, but since I was in the process of straightening them out, the two things conflicted and I heard with my ears a loud pop and of course I felt the awful pain. I let out an uncontrollable scream, the pain was unbearable.
Sandy panicked, grabbed the sheet off the bed and started stuffing it down my throat, all the way down my throat. I was choking and I was making noise trying to breathe, it very quickly got to the point where he almost killed me. I could only make a faint breath come out and I passed out.
When I came to, it took me a minute to realize and remember what had just happened to me. I looked at Sandy, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, talking to himself with huge sweat beads rolling off of his forehead.
Then the pain from my leg instantly kicked in, it was searing pain, and I grabbed my leg, crying to myself. I was careful not to make any noise for fear Sandy would try to kill me.
He threatened my life if I told anyone about what had just happened. I was definitely scared of him. I don’t know what was injured and he would never let me go to the doctor. As sick as it sounds, I wanted to protect Sandy from getting charged with abuse. I could not walk on my leg for about a month.
It was hard to take care of the baby, but Sandy’s grandma and his mother helped. Apparently, they never heard my cries for help, although I wouldn’t be surprised if they did and had just ignored them.
When Irma asked about my leg, I just told her I twisted it getting out of bed wrong, and it wasn’t like she was going to do anything to Sandy to help me. They never questioned it any further. We carried on with our life in a bitter relationship.
It was a beautiful Saturday morning and Sandy asked me if he, the baby, and I could go do something fun.
Sandy said, “Just the three of us! A family! How does that sound?”
He said, “I know we have been having a tough time and I want to go have some fun together with Lillie, let’s go to the zoo.”
I said, “Sure, I would love that!”
He never did anything outside of the house with me and Lillie. Even though I was still limping and it was painful to walk, I agreed.
I got so excited that I jumped up and showered, then washed the baby. I dressed Lillie in the cutest pink sundress with teddy bears all over it, I put on a matching pink sweater, pink tights with bears on them, white sandal shoes and I tied a pink ribbon loosely around the little mound of hair she had atop her still tiny head. We were all ready and so we headed for the car. It was always parked on the street in front of Sandy’s parents’ house.
I opened the back door and began to fasten Lillie into her car seat tightly. Sandy said, “Hold on a minute, I’ll be back.” I was still getting Lillie situated in the back seat. Sandy started acting strangely and he was pacing back and forth. I was thinking, “Okay, what’s this going to be about?”
Sandy’s attitude had rapidly changed. He appeared to be irritated about something. I finished adjusting Lillie and shut the door. I looked at him. I was hoping if I pretended like everything was okay, he would be nice.
I said, “Are you okay honey?”
He said, “Yeah,” in a real short and abrupt tone.
I said, “Okay, you ready to go?”
He said, “Hold on a minute, I forgot something.”
He ran back into the house. I was still standing in the street outside Lillie’s door waiting for Sandy to return. He was in the house 15 minutes. I was trying to debate whether to unstrap Lillie and take her back inside. I was grateful she was sleeping.
I thought it was a bit strange when Sandy’s friend Mark pulled up in his two-seater truck. I said, “Hey Mark how are you doing?”
Mark was also short with me as if he wanted me to shut up and quit talking to him. I had always been polite to him, but there was no telling what Sandy had told him, he was such a liar.
Mark rudely said, “Where is Sandy?” I shouldn’t have answered his ass, but I did.
I said, “Oh, we’re about to go to the zoo.”
I said, “Hold on, I’ll get him for you!”
I started walking towards the house and Sandy quickly comes running out of the house, he jumps into Mark’s truck, and then I hear tires squealing and they speed off. They were so loud they woke Lillie up. Sandy stuck his hand out the window and laughed and waves goodbye to me.
I was so full of self-pity, I asked myself all of the “why me” questions. I had never even heard of someone playing sick and weird games like Sandy played. All of Sandy’s friends were convinced I was the crazy one, because he was really convincing. Actually, they were all right. I was crazy, crazy for ever allowing Sandy to have one minute of my life. For that mistake, I was guilty and crazy as an ox.
One day Sandy decided to take his madness to another level, and I decided to go ahead and join him. We were having a family movie day again. Time had moved along and Lillie was crawling. Lillie was visiting my mom. I let my mom have frequent visits, because she missed Lillie and I wanted to keep her away from Sandy at that time he was being so abusive.
The phone rang again, Sandy ran to grab it, and he was acting really sneaky and suspicious. I followed him into the kitchen. I was tired of his crap. I didn’t care about his parents or anyone else at that point.
That day, I was looking for a fight and I just wanted to jump on Sandy’s head and beat the hell out of him or blow his head off. I was fed up and I could have easily killed him at that point and then smoked a cigarette afterward without even crying.
I said, “Who is on the phone, Sandy?”
Sandy said, “It’s just my friend, Mindy, go sit back down.”
I said, “No, let me talk to her.”
Sandy said, “No, go sit back down.”
We wrestled for the phone. I snatched it from Sandy.
I said, “Hello, who is this?”
She said, “Who is this?”
I said, “Sweetie Bee, Sandy’s fiancé and the mother of his daughter.”
She said, “Well, I’m Mindy and I am pregnant with triplets, and they are Sandy’s.”
I said, “Hold on Mindy.”
Sandy was standing there, looking at me stupidly. I acted like I was simply caving in like the coward I had been. I pretended to be handing the phone back to Sandy.
Instead, I jumped up in the air and beat him upside his head with it. He had messed with the cobra too long and now he was going to get the fangs. I didn’t let up at all, I whooped Sandy’s ass all over the kitchen with the handle of the telephone and we was scrapping. I blacked out and Lorena LaRue’s nature came over me. I was all for all.
I cracked him in the eye and tried to knock his eye out of the socket. I then clocked him in his mouth and bloodied his mouth. I boxed his ears, oh it was on! I was hooked into Sandy like a bear on a tree. We were rumbling in that kitchen. He was trying with all of his strength to pull me off of his body, but I wasn’t letting go. We ended up against the kitchen sink. I had my back to the sink and Sandy was facing me. I had him in a Koala bear hug, with my legs and arms wrapped around him.
That was it, I had had enough of him. See, I was trying to be nice and he took advantage of that. Now, his day had come. I grabbed a butcher knife his mom had in the strainer and I started pushing it into his back.
I put more pressure on the knife into Sandy’s back, it felt like butter.
All I could see is a vision of my mom telling me and my brothers about murder and how if we ever killed anyone we would go to hell for murder. That doesn’t even count going to prison for life. I thought about Lillie.
Sandy said, “If you put the knife down, I will let you go, I promise.”
I said, “You think I trust you? Really? You really think I would trust you? You are nothing but a lying lowdown filthy scum dog of the earth! You will not roam no more, not after today!”
He said, “I promise, I will slowly back away, on the count of three, 1…2…3…”
I said, “That’s really funny, I’m supposed to trust you, so as soon as I drop the knife you can get me? I know you think I’m stupid, but not anymore mister, not anymore!”
He pleaded with me for some time. God kept putting my mom’s face in my head and me going to hell.
Sandy pleaded, “Come on Sweetie, 1…2…3…”
I released my grip on him and dropped the knife in the kitchen sink and Sandy walked away from me into the living room. I picked the knife back up just in case. His parents came home just then. They saw the knife in my hand, what a coincidence.
Irma said, “I want you out of here Sweetie, now! I want you to get your stuff and leave my house. You are so jealous and possessive, poor Sandy can’t even breathe, you don’t let him do anything, why he can’t even talk to a friend on the phone, you are a mad woman!”
I was raised to be very respectful to older people, my mom would have killed me if she ever knew I was rude to an older person, but I couldn’t control myself.
I said, “Irma, I have always been nice to you and your family, you guys have always treated me as an outcast because I come from a poor family.
Irma said, “No, it’s because you are a crazy bitch, you destroyed my son’s life, he dropped out of college because you trapped him by getting pregnant, and you ruined his life! The only reason Sandy dropped out of college was to come back here to be with you and Lillie. Sandy is too good for you. My son is a good, honest and hard-working man!”
That was it, I lost it, I said, “Really? That’s all a lie, Sandy left college, because some chick he was screwing broke his heart and he didn’t want to continue on living, let alone continue with college.”
Irma said, “That’s a lie, you need to quit lying on my son, you are a silly simple bitch!”
I said, “Irma, you really think your son is so perfect, right? Did you know he was robbing the bank he was working for and he got fired?”
Sandy had failed to mention all that to his precious mommy.
Sandy said, “She’s lying mom, don’t believe her, I told you she was crazy! Don’t believe anything she says.”
I quietly walked away, leaving them all perplexed as to what I was doing. I came back with papers in my hand, the papers that Sandy received when they caught him stealing. Sandy snatched them out of my hand and his mom screamed and told Sandy to give them to her. She read them and her jaw dropped.
I thought, “Finally, Sandy will get some of the justice he so rightfully deserves.”
Irma looked at me and said, “So what! You’re still crazy and I want you to get out of here right now!”
I said, “Can I please have two days to find another place to live, I have your granddaughter with me.”
Irma said, “You have two days.”
I said, “Thank you!” I walked to Sandy’s bedroom. I heard commotion outside so I looked out the window as Sandy’s parents and sister were getting in the car to leave, again. They pulled out of the drive way and drove down the street.
I sat on the bed, my mind was racing. Why did I keep getting kicked out of places, first my dad kicked me out and now Irma?
Sandy came violently charging into the room and almost broke the door off the hinges. It scared the hell out of me.
I grabbed my chest, I said, “What the hell Sandy?”
He flew across the bed and jumped on me, he knocked my head back against the wall and it almost knocked me out. He started punching me in my legs and in my back.
Sandy always made sure not to hit my face, I had fair skin that bruised easily, and he wanted to keep his abusive secret hidden. We had a violent scuffle. I was punching Sandy in his head and face.
I was punching him and he was punching me. I took my fingernails and dug in for all it was worth. I could feel the flesh tearing off of his neck and face. I grabbed his hair and started pulling his hair out. He pulled my hair back.
I was making sure if Sandy was taking some of me in that fight, I was taking some of him too. He got at least 15 scars on him from that fight.
I started fighting Sandy back hard and we would be head to toe. I was sick of him. I got my licks in and he got his in too. I think the devil would come into me when I was fighting him, I was like a rabid animal. I couldn’t stop though, it was going to be a fight to the death once it started.
All of the sudden, Sandy got up and ran outside and I wasn’t sure what he was doing. I ran to the phone in the kitchen and made a call. I was breathing hard and I was hyped up from the fight. I was pacing the floor with a temper flaring in me. I decided to call the Uncles, I usually reserved them for serious issues. Uncle Jon answered and I told him what Sandy had just done to me.
Uncle Jon said, “Sweetie, we are on our way right now!”
Irma and Sr. pulled up, they came right back, I’m not sure what made them come back, but Sandy was outside pacing back and forth in the yard when they pulled up.
I heard Irma ask him what was going on. Sandy ignored her and kept pacing frantically back and forth.
Irma rushed into the house and ran back to the room.
She said, “Sweetie! What the hell is going on?”
I screamed smugly, “It’s over for your son! I called the Uncles and they are coming to kill him!”
She said, “What? Why the hell would you do something like that?!”
I said, ‘You really do live within your own mind, and I thought I was the crazy one. You really can’t see why someone would call the Uncles on your son? Are you telling me that you truly don’t understand why?”
I said, “The main reason I called them, is because of you! And now, you will be the reason the Uncles take him down, you get it? Are you trackin’ what I’m saying to you?”
Then Irma started freaking out, she started pacing out in the living room. I heard her scream for Sr. I couldn’t hear everything she said to Sr., but he came into Sandy’s bedroom where I was sitting on the bed hyped up and elated.
Sr. Said, “What’s going on Sweetie?”
I said, “I am sick and tired of your son’s abuse, I have done nothing but love him and he has tortured the living hell out of me. I’m tired Sr. I am tired, and I can’t take it anymore Sr. I am losing my mind! Sandy is driving me crazy! It’s going to be curtains for him today, go out and tell him goodbye, right now Sr. go tell him goodbye, it’s the end of his road!”
Sr. didn’t seem interested in anything I was saying that didn’t have to do with the Uncles coming out to kill Sandy.
Sr. calmly said, “Uh-hum and what’s this I hear about the Uncles’ coming out or something?”
In a matter of fact tone, I replied, “Yep, they are coming and Sandy will be going bye-bye Sr., they told me Sandy has hit me for the last time Sr.!”
I started laughing maniacally, I was losing it. I could envision them taking Sandy out and him trying to run for his life and I thought it was just down right hilarious. He was a big bully and now he was going to get his and then some.
I almost couldn’t wait for them to come out. I wanted to take him out myself. Besides, why should they handle my problems, I know they would with no hesitation, but why, when I can handle him myself, I’m not scared of him anymore. I told myself.
I focused back on what Sr. was trying to say to me, I had zoned out for a minute.
In a soft and gentle loving tone, Sr. said to me, “Come on now Sweetie, we can work this out like mature adults, why don’t you come on to the phone with me now and call the Uncles and tell them not to come. I will go talk some sense into Sandy, you know we care about you Sweetie, okay?”
His words were rolling off me like water on a duck’s back. I really didn’t care about anything he was saying to me. I was just thinking about the most enjoyable way I could get it done while gaining the most satisfaction.
I zoned back into Sr. I started thinking about the pain it would cause him. He was the only one I liked, he was always kind to me and Lillie, as much as his wife allowed. I decided I couldn’t hurt Sandy, only for Sr.’s sake though.
I said, “Okay, Sr.”
I had some love for Sr. and that is the only reason I called the Uncles back. It all happened really fast. I walked out into the living room and got on that phone. I tried to call my Uncle Jon right back and there was no answer, I called again and he finally answered.
I said, “Uncle Jon, I don’t need you guys to come out.”
Uncle Jon said, “Why’s that?”
I said, “Um, it was a false alarm and we worked it out.”
Uncle Jon said, “What, you just called me and said this galoop was beating on you and now you want to call it off, that’s not happening! Alan, Craig, Edward, James and I are still coming, Alan just rolled up and we are on our way!”
I had to think of something quickly, they were really coming.
I said, “Wait, wait, wait, Uncle Jon! I lied, I’m so sorry, Sandy never laid a finger on me, and I was just mad at him and wanted you guys to kick his butt!” (I said this to Uncle Jon, mad at myself because I could be possibly ruining any future chances of calling for help from the Uncles, they wouldn’t believe me for crying wolf)
Uncle Jon handed the phone to Uncle Alan. Uncle Alan got on the phone to talk to me and said, “What do ya mean you lied to your Uncle Jon?”
I said, “I gotta go, I’m leaving. I won’t be here, so don’t come!”
I slammed the phone down as Sr. was standing by me, looking at me.
Sr. said, “What did they say?” I could see the panicked look in Sr.’s eyes.
I said, “I tried, to call them off, but the only thing I can think to do is leave and that’s all I can do. They might still come, your son shouldn’t have hit me Sr. he deserves whatever he gets!”
I grabbed a black garbage bag from the closet and stuffed just what I could fit in it and I started walking down the street. There was at least three inches of snow everywhere and my feet and ears were freezing. I didn’t have any winter gear on I had left so suddenly.
Sandy pulled up to me as I was walking and started driving alongside me in the Montego. I was so glad Lillie was with my parents, I had to give Mom regular visiting rights, because she had really bonded with Lillie.
Sandy said, “Get in Sweetie, and let’s go.”
I said, “Are you crazy? I’m not going anywhere with you!”
He said, “Come on Sweetie, we have fought before, it’s no big deal, we have a daughter and I’m not going to leave you on the street by yourself.”
I was tired, it was winter and I was freezing so I said, “Fine.”
I got in the car and we went looking for somewhere to stay. Neither of us had very much money, Sandy had lost his job and I didn’t have one because I had to take care of Lillie. We rode around in silence, but the radio was playing “The Closer I Get to You” by Roberta Flack and Donny Hathaway.
That was funny to me, because I couldn’t have wanted to be further away from him at that point.
Sandy drove around town to different businesses, offering to exchange work for a place to stay. That is just the deal he made with the owners of a shabby motel called the Alamo, a work to stay deal.
The deal was if the owners of the Alamo Motel would let Sandy, the baby, and I stay there in a room, Sandy would clean the entire motel in exchange.
Sandy came back to the car and told me the deal he made.
I said, “Fine, when do we start?”
We picked up baby Lillie from my mom’s house and we moved into the Motel Alamo. It was hard work, but it was still winter and we were in a warm, dry place. We had a television and all the luxuries of a home.
I would put Lillie on my hip and we would zip from room to room vacuuming, cleaning toilets, tubs, making beds, etc. The Motel Alamo had three floors and two wings with long hallways, all with inside corridors, thank God.
Sandy would do the top floor, I would do the second floor where our room was, and we would share the bottom floor. Lillie had started crawling and I would reluctantly sit her down sometimes, so I could do the bathtubs. I didn’t have a choice. I was so worried about her getting germs.
I learned one thing and that was construction workers sure could leave a messy room. Sandy and I were doing okay, we didn’t have time to fight much, and we were too exhausted after cleaning all day, every day.
Lillie started teething and fussing a lot and the owners started complaining about her crying. The owners Burt and Nancy didn’t like it and told me I could no longer bring her out of our motel room.
I went to the motel office and I spoke with Burt. I said, “I have to help clean Burt, it’s too much for Sandy by himself.”
Burt said, “No exceptions, baby must remain in the room at all times”.
That meant Sandy had to clean the whole motel by himself. I tried to help him when Lillie was sleeping with the rooms closest to ours so I could check back in on Lillie. That was until one day I came back to check on Lillie and there were two men in the room with her when I opened the door.
They didn’t hurt her or anything, but they said the owners gave them a key to our room. I think they were trying to get rid of us. I’m not sure why, outside of Lillie teething, we were quiet.
One day Burt and Nancy called Sandy to the office, they told him in order for us to continue to stay there, that we also had to do the entire motel’s laundry. I was sneaking and helping Sandy with the laundry, because it was physically impossible for Sandy to get all the work done alone in one day.
It was almost impossible for us both to get all the work done together, let alone someone doing it alone, for there were too many rooms and not enough time. One day Nancy the owner spotted me helping with the laundry. I had Lillie sitting in a basket. Sandy told me he needed the help and I would have to help him regardless of what they said.
Nancy said, “That’s it! You broke the rules, now you get out!” That would be kick out number three for me.
Nancy gave us one week to find a new place and we didn’t have a dime to our name. Lillie was really sick from teething and had a fever, we took her to the emergency room at the hospital and the doctor gave her a few prescriptions.
Sandy pulled up to the pharmacy and I got out, going to get Lillie’s prescriptions filled. Lillie was sleeping in her car seat in the back seat. When I came out after filling Lillie’s prescription, Sandy was parked in front of the store.
I reached for the handle to the car door to get in and Sandy sped off. I was thinking, “Okay, what is this idiot doing now?” Sandy loved to play games and he almost always took things too far, he didn’t know when to quit. I stood in front of the store still holding Lillie’s prescription in my hand.
Sandy circled the parking lot and came back around, I reached for the car door handle again and he sped off again, leaving me standing there. Sandy literally did this, pull up speed off thing about five or six more times, every time I reached for the door handle. On the seventh or eighth time he finally let me in the car. We had just been at the hospital for like seven hours and it was like 2am.
I really wasn’t in the mood for Sandy’s crap. When I got in the car, I looked at Sandy and punched him in the shoulder. I would have walked if Lillie wouldn’t have been in the car.
I said, “What the hell is wrong with you Sandy! Why would you play a game like that when your daughter is sick in the back seat and she needs her medicine?”
Sandy said, “Lillie is sleeping and she is fine, so shut the eff up! Did you sleep with Robby when I was in California?”
I said, “What are you talking about Sandy!”
Sandy said, “Did you sleep with Robby when I was gone?”
I said, “Sandy even if I did, we weren’t together.”
Sandy said, “Tell me where Robby lives right now. I’m going over there to kick his ass!”
I said, “You can’t be serious, your daughter is in this car!”
Sandy started driving in the direction of Robby’s house. I started panicking, I thought he really knew where Robby lived as he was heading towards his house, but he didn’t know. He didn’t even realize that he was literally within two blocks of Robby’s house at that point.
The road to Robby’s house was a really long road that led kind of into the country, and Sandy was driving at a very high rate of speed about 70 mph at that point. He was going so fast he was swerving, I thought he was going to lose control.
I screamed, “Slow down Sandy, your daughter is in this car!”
Sandy said, “Damn it Sweetie, tell me right now where he lives or I will kill us all!”
Lillie started crying, I jumped in the back seat and gave her some medicine and her bottle.
Sandy picked up speed, I looked up at the speedometer and he was going 80mph at that point. I said, “Sandy, I didn’t sleep with Robby and I don’t have any idea where he lives, okay?”
Sandy wouldn’t listen to reason, he increased his speed to over 100mph. I was trying to think of anything to save me and my daughter’s life.
I said, “Listen Sandy, you have to calm down, I know you’re mad, but I promise you I didn’t touch Robby when you were gone and I didn’t sleep with him. I don’t know where he lives.”
Sandy had slowed down only long enough to screech a corner and turn and we were then on a long stretch of country gravel road. Sandy had turned up the radio and the song “Welcome to the Jungle” was playing. Suddenly Sandy slammed on the brakes. The car almost did a rollover flip, it tilted up on two wheels and we landed in a ditch, none of us were hurt, just jostled a bit and the car was not damaged. The Montego was a tough car.
I couldn’t believe Lillie was still sleeping in the back. That medicine the doctor prescribed to her had knocked her out, thank God.
I had just checked Lillie to make sure she was okay after we landed in the ditch, when I felt my entire body being lifted up off the seat and yanked forward. Sandy had snatch me from the back seat to the front seat with one violent pull.
Sandy wheelie jumped the car up out of the ditch and back onto the gravel road. I knew as crazy as Sandy was that he wouldn’t hurt Lillie, but I could see murder in his eyes for me. Sandy looked over at me, I was then sitting in the passenger seat of the car. Sandy had sweat profusely running down his face and it was dripping everywhere even though it was winter and it was cold outside. I started to become very scared for my life.
I opened the car door and jumped outside onto the gravel road. I started running down the gravel road in the opposite direction than the car was facing. Sandy spun the car around quickly in the gravel and the dust and rocks went flying everywhere.
I was still running down the road when I felt and heard the power of the Montego speeding up behind me. Sandy hit me with the car and I was flung backwards onto the hood. It hurt the hell out of the back of my knees. He picked up speed. I was fighting the force of speed, but I flipped over to my stomach and I grabbed the windshield wipers and it felt like I was in a horror movie. I was scared if I let go he would smash me down into the gravel and run me over.
I had no idea what I was going to do. I prayed for God to help me. Sandy increased the speed of the car and all I could see was dust everywhere. I was losing my grip on the windshield wipers we were going so fast, but just as I was about to lose my grip, Sandy slammed on the brakes and I went flying off the car hood in the air.
I bounced and rolled onto the gravel road and I felt nothing but pain everywhere in my hips, shoulders, and there were gravel rocks embedded in the palms of my hands. I looked up and saw the headlights coming towards me again. It happened too quickly for me to move. I shielded my face with my hands.
I very quickly said, “Please God, take care of my daughter and please forgive me for my sins, please take me to Heaven….” The bumper stopped just short of my face.
Sandy jumped out of the car and snatched me by my long hair and drug me into the car. He threw me long ways into the front seat so that I was on my stomach, my head was against the driver’s door and my feet were against the passenger’s door. This all happened quickly and Sandy jumped in the driver’s seat and took a seat on top of my chest and head.
I was suffocating as he was driving down the gravel road with me underneath him and he was sitting on top of me. It almost killed me by crushing me to death with the weight of his body.
Most human beings will never have a chance, thank God, to know the sheer fear that sets in your mind when you know you are about to die at the hands of a murderer. It is a fear typically unknown to the average person. Feeling the life being sucked out of you.
For some reason, every time Sandy and I fought, in my mind, I always thought it would be our last fight and it would never happen again.
As I started taking my final breaths, my voice had a kind high pitched squeal to it and Sandy realized he was killing me. I couldn’t speak or breathe. He seemed to like to get me to that high pitch squeal in my voice frequently when we fought. I think he listened for it. He knew it.
Sandy started panicking, he said, “I can’t let you go, you will get away.”
I blacked out. When I came to I was slumped over in the passenger’s seat. I slowly opened my eyes and I saw Sandy with the scariest look on his face. He was still sweating profusely as he was driving down the road, moving his mouth back in forth in a weird way grinding his teeth or something. Sandy was so zoned into his own world, he either thought I was dead or didn’t even realize I was awake.
I pretended like I was asleep until he pulled into a gas station to get some gas. When he got out of the car, he left it running and I jumped into the driver’s seat and took off, leaving him at the gas station. Sandy chased behind me trying to catch me. I jumped the curb and sped off.
I ended up having my brother take me to drop Sandy’s car off at his mom’s house later that night, I left it out in the front of his parents’ house with the keys in it. I just wanted to be done with Sandy. Before the whole gravel road nightmare, Sandy had arranged for me to stay with his dad Sr.’s sister and Sandy was moving back in with his parents.
So Sandy went back to his parent’s for help. Sandy’s dad’s sister Maria said I could stay with her for a week or two. I didn’t have anywhere else to go. Sandy went back to his parent’s house and Lillie went back to my mom’s again for two nights until I got settled in at Maria’s and then she came to live with me there.
Aunt Maria loved Lillie and she was one of the few people Lillie liked, she didn’t cry when Aunt Maria held her like she did when other people held her. Lillie was a really fussy baby. She was terrified of people.
I started getting really ill again and I didn’t know what was wrong with me. Maria, she was quite the drinker, and for two weeks instead of looking for another place I ended up getting drunk and playing cards every night. I was having a good ol’ time. I got drunk and it numbed all of my pain. Sandy’s little cousins would watch Lillie when I was getting drunk. I wasn’t being a very good mother at that time at all.
Sandy didn’t care anything about me and Lillie until he got a report that I was over there living it up and having fun. He got jealous, I was with his aunt, he shouldn’t have cared at all and there weren’t any men in the whole house.
Sandy started getting mad because I was drinking, playing cards, and having fun without him. I was sick and when I drank it made the pain go away.
I was looking for and missing that love I used to have with my own family, that warm cozy place where I would fit in.
Sandy came by one day and said, “This is my aunt’s house and you’re taking advantage of her.”
He said, “My Aunt Maria doesn’t even like you. As a matter of fact, she told me she can’t wait until you get out!”
I told him I didn’t believe him. His Aunt Maria treated me really well, she treated me like one of her own kids. Maybe she didn’t like me or maybe Sandy was just trying to get in my head like he always did, I couldn’t tell.
He would come over to his Aunt’s house and pick fights with me. I had grown to be extremely insecure and fragile since I started dating Sandy. My mind was very weak and it was easy to piss me off and send me into a frenzy.
We had got into an argument the night before on the telephone when he came over one day about me drinking.
Sandy came in the door and said, “What’s going on?”
I said, “Nothing. I was laying down, because I was still sick.”
He came picking at me saying stupid stuff to me.
I said, “Sandy, can you just leave me alone? I don’t want to be bothered with you right now.”
I got up off the bed and stood in the doorway. Suggesting he leave. Sandy pushed his way into the room I was staying in and pushed past me in the doorway.
He said, “This is my aunt’s house and I can come over anytime I want and I can come in your room if I want!”
I said, “Fine, Sandy do what you want!”
I went to lay back down in the bed. The room I was staying in was like a sitting room or sun room and there wasn’t a real door on it, it was sort of open to the living room. I could see everyone watching television from my sofa bed.
So Sandy sat down on the couch in the living room and turned the television on. There was just Sandy, me, and his two younger girl cousins in the house at the time. His cousins had taken Lillie somewhere to play. Sandy was trying to agitate me and up to that point it hadn’t worked.
So Sandy did the one thing he knew I was insecure about from his days of torturing me mentally at his dad’s house. He turned it to a station that had naked cheerleader girls running around and kissing each other on it. I was determined to not let Sandy get to me, he knew I could see the naked girls on television from where I was at, but I just closed my eyes and ignored him.
I was so sick and I just wanted to be left alone. Sandy got pissed I wasn’t arguing with him about the naked girls so he started making comments.
Sandy screamed, “Oh yeah kiss her baby! Yeah, you are so sexy, look at those big tits! Whew wee.”
I still ignored him, and then he came to my doorway and started screaming louder. When I still ignored him, he turned to me and started to make rude inappropriate comments about me. He started insulting my body and comparing me to the girls on television.
I said, “Sandy, I’m tired of you and your hateful behavior and you convincing everyone around us that I’m the crazy psychotic one! I’m taking these letters and all this stuff,” as I pointed to a suitcase I had full of Sandy’s letters and memorabilia, “and I’m showing your mom and everyone else you know, and then they will all know the real truth about you, the truth I have been hiding for so long.”
Sandy said, “What!? What the hell did you say to me?”
I said, “You heard me Sandy!”
Sandy ran up to me really fast like he was going to hit me and ripped the suitcase handle out of my hand.
He ran into the kitchen and got the two tall pots his aunt had, he filled them up with water to the top, he jammed all the letters and everything else he could fit in them, and he turned it up to a high boil while I tried to stop him.
He hit me in my face and pushed me into the corner on the floor as I cried. I thought about myself, “What an idiot! Why would you say that to him, now you have absolutely no physical evidence of what a maniac Sandy truly is!”
As I sat in the corner, crying I watched Sandy try to pick up the huge heavy pot, it was so hot, he burned his hand. He started cussing and then grabbed some kitchen towels and wrapped them around each of his hands, so he wouldn’t get burned again.
Sandy then took the two hot heavy silver colored pots to the balcony and threw all the contents in them over the railing two stories below.
With the usual deranged look in his eyes, Sandy grabbed the suitcase and the rest of the contents in it that wouldn’t fit in the pots and raced down the stairs outside where the spilled contents lie.
Sandy threw everything in a pile and then he got some lawnmower gas and poured it all over the pink striped suitcase and every single piece of our history together, including all of my pregnancy pictures and even pictures of Lillie when she was first born and he set it all on fire.
I was frozen in disbelief, I couldn’t believe I had been so stupid, why did I say that to him? Now, it was all gone. Everything of our entire life was up in flames. It was as if at that moment, I had been wiped off the face of the earth.
I ran back into the room where I had been staying and threw myself onto the sofa. I cried. Sandy went back to watching television in the living room as if nothing had ever happened.
As I sat in the room still crying, Sandy came to the doorway and looked in at me. I wondered if he came to apologize to me.
Sandy said, “What’s wrong Sweetie? Are you really sickly in there or are you just jealous you don’t have double D’s like these sexy hot chicks on TV?”
Sandy continued on, “Huh? You’re just jealous because you’re a saggy stretched marked flat chested no titty having whore. You wish you had tits like these, now they make my dick hard. You disgust me you are so ugly!”
I got up from where I was lying and ran quickly to the television in the living room and turned it off. Sandy walked up and pushed me out of the way and turned it back on and started with the comments again. He went to sit back down, and I walked back up to the television again and turned it off.
By then, his two cousins entered the room and asked what was going on.
I said, “Sandy is watching other girls on TV and making comments about them.
His cousin Ty said, “So what, they are just girls on TV he is never going to see them in real life!”
I said, “You don’t even understand, he is being a jerk.”
Sandy was good at manipulation, he laid it out so that he was just innocently watching TV when I viciously attacked him for no reason just because some girl happened to come on the television unclothed and it was out of his control.
Ty, the youngest one, said, “Well he is our cousin and he can watch whatever he wants in our house and I’m going to tell my mom when she comes back that you were attacking him over a TV show.”
I went into my little area and started packing up my clothes to leave, I had been in this situation before and I knew what was coming. Lillie was sitting beside me on the sofa bed.
I was crying silently to myself. Sandy walked into my area and said very anally, “What’s the matter with the little baby? Is she crying?”
I felt rage boiling through my veins. I wanted to take a knife and slice Sandy a new crooked smile. I hated him with every hair that grew on my tired body. I was 17-years-old and I felt like I was 60.
I just ignored him and kept packing. But, I stood up and moved away from Lillie, just in case he made any sudden movements. Sandy came closer to me and started circling in front of me. I was still crying and it seemed to fuel his madness. He started bumping into me and knocking me off my feet.
I said, “Leave me alone Sandy! Your daughter is watching you!”
Lillie started crying as he grabbed me from behind and pulled me on to him. We were in a sitting position on the sofa that was in the room I was sleeping in, it was like I was sitting on his lap.
Only he started squeezing me tight. I mean really tight, like boa constrictor tight. A lot of stuff was going through my mind whether he was just playing or was he trying to hurt me? I couldn’t tell at first because he had this weird maniacal laugh going on.
Well it soon became apparent that he was trying to hurt me! I was still being forcefully held on Sandy’s lap. He bent over forward which then made me bend over too, it was crushing my chest and really hurting my back, I was already sick so I couldn’t breathe.
I shouted frantically but it was mixed with crying and it came out sounding weird, since he was constricting my lungs. I just knew that my death would be in the hands of Sandy one day if I kept trotting down the same path. Lillie was sitting on the sofa screaming at the top of her lungs, I couldn’t get to her and Sandy didn’t seem to mind at all so he continued what he was doing.
I belted as loud as I could a frantic, “Let me go!” His cousins came running to the room I was staying in.
Ty, the boisterous one said, “Are you guys playing?” She was a young teenager, but when she saw the panicked look on my face, she changed.
Ty screamed, “Let her go Sandy, you know you’re not supposed to be putting your hands on a woman, you are hurting her!” Ty grabbed Lillie and picked her up to soothe her.
I had been harboring money here and there from Sandy’s bank heists, and I was saving for a true emergency. I had saved $375 to buy a car. My dad helped me get it and it was a 1970 manual butter yellow Ford Mustang with a sunroof. This constituted one.
After that fight, Sandy’s Aunt kicked me out so Lillie and I moved into my car and we were officially homeless.
It couldn’t have been a worse time to be homeless since it was late in the winter of 1988, but it was the best time for me to have bought a car. It was 40 degrees outside, but it felt like it was below zero in that car. The winter chill crept through the sunroof.
I should have been graduating high school and heading to the Navy, but instead I was a single mother living in my car with my infant during the winter.
I didn’t even know where to park at. I couldn’t keep riding around, I didn’t have any gas and I had very little gas money. I ended up parking down the street from my parent’s house in a church parking lot. A place I felt safe, by what was once my home.
I was still a teenager at 17-years-old, how I wished I wouldn’t have messed up. I longed for my old life back in a simpler world. I just wanted to rewind time and go back to being with my family, playing games, and laughing with my brothers or watching westerns on television with my dad.
I longed to be with my brothers beyond words. They were the funniest little critters. They always made me laugh. I missed them so much. I would sit and watch them play outside from a distance. I longed to hug and kiss them. I longed to fuss at them for being annoying. God, please can I could rewind the hands of time and be innocent again, I prayed.
How could I, in less than two years, go from all the security and comfort in the world to living in my car, homeless in the winter with my baby? Even if we got kicked out of houses and were poor, it didn’t matter, we were always together. No lights, water, heat, or food, it didn’t matter, it brought us closer together. We always had each other, and our love transcended all of the troubles in the world. We always had God and we always knew it was going to be alright.
I drove by my parent’s house and stopped briefly in front of the house. I could see my baby brother Shawn in the window while he was racing his toy car on the window sill. He looked out at me and waved. I waved at him and drove off in tears. I drove back down to the church lot at the end of 11th street where my parents’ house was. I drove way to the back behind the white church with a steeple and parked.
I never had anything be so close to me and yet so far away. My dad had finally moved back home and he and my mom were getting along well, so I didn’t want to do anything to cause them to break up again.
I could never live with myself if my parents divorced because of something I did. It would mean my brothers would be losing one of their parents. I couldn’t be a part of that, not for my own mistakes.
I scooped Lillie up and piled all of our loose clothes up on top of us to keep us warm. I had checked our local homeless shelters out, but they were all full of a high percent men. I felt that was too dangerous for me and Lillie.
In the daylight hours, I would race off so my parents would not see me in the church’s parking lot. I would pretend as if nothing were wrong at all. I didn’t want Mom to take Lillie from me again. I would go visit family members sometimes in the day to keep warm and I pretended everything was great. Then at night Lillie and I would park again and I would cover our bodies with clothes to keep warm.
I had to crack the windows of the car so we didn’t die of carbon monoxide poisoning, but that also let in the freezing, cold air. When I changed Lillie’s diaper, I could see a musky look in the air as a result of the steam from her hot urine meeting with the frigid air.
Then, since I didn’t have enough gas money, I could only let the car run for like an hour, and then I would turn it off for an hour, freeze something terrible, and then turn it back on again and repeat that process.
I thanked God for the new Quik-Trips and their displays. They had just remodeled their stores top to bottom and they would put out ketchup, mustard, relish and mayo packets for those buying hot dogs or ham and cheese sandwiches. My daily meal consisted of just that. Condiment packets.
I ate a lot of mayo packets those days and drank from nickel paper cups of water. Every week I cashed in enough pop and beer cans I collected from the streets and garbage bins to buy a sandwich and diapers for Lillie. Some stores gave away free crackers for soup and I would get those for Lillie.
I would cut the sandwich in small pieces to last the week. It was cold so the food would last in the car like it was a refrigerator. Lillie was still on formula and I had a full case of that left. I put her bottle up on the dash by the heater vents to warm it up.
Even when I would starve, my baby ate. She was still a baby and didn’t eat much, but I would ration her food and count the days so she would always eat.
I would feel so guilty for stealing those packets of mayo and for using their soap. I knew it was all intended for paying customers who were purchasing food or products. To even things out in my mind, I tried to always make sure I purchased my gas there whenever I could scrape a few dollars together from the cans, so at least I was some kind of paying customer.
I walked with winter boots on and with Lillie bundled African or Asian style inside my coat to collect cans. She was connected to me so she would not fall and I could be hands-free. I couldn’t afford to drive in my car. I frequently checked Lillie’s hands and toes to make sure they were not getting too cold. I carried a sharp stick to ward off any potential predators and the black plastic bag for the cans in my other hand.
It was to my advantage that Lillie was a super clingy baby and her favorite place in the world was to be attached to me at any possible moment. Lillie’s choice of habitat, if it would have been humanly possible, would have been to get back in my belly and live there.
This helped me immensely as collecting cans and holding a large bag would have been too difficult with an active and fidgety baby who was always trying to get down on the ground. With Lillie taking it easy on me, I was able to find enough cans just for us to get by with food and gas in the car to keep us at least a little warm.
I would wash my body head to toe in front of the sink filled with soapy water at Quik-Trip as Lillie watched me intently from atop my pile of clothes sitting on the somewhat clean bathroom floor. Above starvation and everything else, I hated to be dirty and I definitely did not want my child to be dirty. One thing I can brag about is throughout the entire time Lillie wore diapers she never once had a diaper rash while she was in my care and she was always clean.
I was terrified when I was in the bathroom at Quik-Trip with the door tightly locked that one of the other customers would complain I was in there too long or one of the employees would notice I was taking so long and kick me out.
I alternated Quik-Trips every day to spread it out hoping to lesson my chances of getting caught using their bathroom like that.
Since the Quik-Trips were newly remodeled everything was new and clean, including the garbage cans. The garbage cans were brown and about twenty inches tall and maybe twelve inches wide and nine inches deep, just guessing at it.
Whatever the measurements were, I squirted hand soap in it, and then I filled it up with warm water from the sink, using a tall cup, as far as I could.
I then took my ice water cup and added more warm water until it was deep enough for Lillie to sit comfortably in. I gave her a bath and quickly dried her off with some random pieces of clothes I used for towels and dressed her. I hurried and dumped the water in the toilet, threw the garbage bag back in the can and rushed out of the bathroom.
The cans were new and clean. Every day the store attendant placed a new trash bag in the can and removed the old one. So, at that point, trash never touched the actual can itself and it made a perfect, or just sanitary enough bath for Lillie. She loved it.
It felt like 3 hours had passed through the process, but I got the entire routine down in about 20-30 minutes or so.
My heart would race with the fear of anticipating getting caught every single time, but I had to do it. There is one way people would know without a doubt that I was homeless and that was if Lillie and I were dirty.
I would use Quik-trip’s hand soap and wash our hair, using our clothes, the bathroom hand drying blower, and paper towels to dry off. I would wash my panties and me and Lillie’s socks and t-shirts in the sink and put them up on my car dash near the heater to dry them.
Nobody knew my secret. Everyone thought I was staying with someone else.
I couldn’t tell my mom, because I knew she would take Lillie away from me. I couldn’t tell anyone, because they may try and take Lillie away from me. I just didn’t want to be without my daughter. Even though we were cold and I felt like the worse mother in the world, I was still selfish, but at least I had my baby with me. Baby Lillie was with me every night with her hot breath sputtering on my bosom. She was for me and I was for her, I heated her and she heated me.
It was daylight and finally a slightly warmer morning than usual when I awoke. I sat in the backseat of my 1970 Mustang, sitting on top of a pile of clothes. I took Lillie out of my arms and from against my bare breasts where she had spent the night.
I sat her on top of a small stack of clothes on the back seat beside me. It was 6am and not many people were out. We were in the back of the church parking lot against a small forest of trees.
I took my clothes off to put some new clothes on. I looked down at my body and the bruises that had mapped my body for almost a month were finally fading and gone, yet I was still sick and felt like I was only getting sicker.
I was off in deep thought when I felt Lillie’s little finger reach over to touch one of the bruises on my left leg that had gotten a hematoma it was so deep. Sandy had done it punching my legs with such force in anger. It originally hurt like heck, but the pain was finally gone. The bruises had turned every color of the rainbow over their course of healing.
I looked down at my baby and I wanted to break down crying. Lillie was the most intelligent child for her age.
I said, “Mama’s a big girl, she’s okay.”
Lillie kept staring and trying to point at my slightly still bruised legs, arms, and chest observantly, so I quickly covered myself. Living in the car with a baby was getting ridiculous and I was concerned for Lillie’s well-being. Since I had Lillie, I had to figure something out. I lived in my car for a little over a month in the winter and then I couldn’t take it anymore.
I huddled up with Lillie in my bosom on that last night being homeless. Lillie looked up at me with her huge round brown eyes, crème brulee colored skin and pretty jet black, curly hair. She was such a beautiful child, not mother beautiful, but world beautiful. It was too cold for Lillie and I was pressed to figure something else out. My cousin Trazoli had recently moved back home and she was living with my grandma.
My mom’s hours changed at work and my dad would no longer let her watch Lillie, and I didn’t have a sitter for her, so I couldn’t keep working a job. I was forced to get help from the government for the first time in my life.
Trazoli talked my grandma Mena, my mom’s mom, into letting me and Lillie move in with her. My grandma had a lot of rooms in her house, so I paid my grandma for a room and paid her the rent out of my assistance check. I also gave her my food stamps to buy food for the household.
My grandpa had been living with my mom after he was released from the hospital, but after my mom’s hours changed, he came to live with my grandma. I never felt like my grandma Mena cared for me since I was my mother’s daughter, and she didn’t get along well with my mom at that time.
I was actually shocked as heck that my grandma Mena let me stay with her. I am positive it was all Trazoli’s doing and none of my grandma’s that I was even there in the first place. It was kind of weird being what is considered to be a pretty person. You had lots of people that just loved you and were nice to you, just because you were pretty, plus I considered myself to be nice and that didn’t seem to hurt my chances either.
However, for me, there was a drastically opposite side of that spectrum and that was the people who loved me, loved me with all their hearts and unconditionally, but the people who hated me did so with all virility.
Even though I had never so much as even said an unkind word or performed an unkind action against them in my life, they tended to have an all-out goal to be vicious to me and to torture me and it didn’t matter how nice I tried to be to them.
I have always been a people pleaser, just wanting everyone to like me, I don’t know why that is. I think maybe because I have faced so much hatred. I just wanted to be liked and loved. I tried everything I could to make someone like me when I felt like they didn’t have what I thought was a valid reason to hate me; however, I learned eventually that is just not something I had control over.
If someone wanted to hate me regardless of what I felt, I had to step back and allow them to have their feelings without trying to change them. I always yearned to feel validated and it’s something I have always struggled with.
Regardless of anything else I had to go through living there at my grandma Mena’s house, it didn’t matter, because I got to be with my daughter and my grandpa, and I was happy. I was in a nice, dry, and warm place.
My grandma had her dining room cleared out all except for one china cabinet and had my grandpa’s hospital style bed and a recliner put in the place where the table used to be.
My grandparents lived in a two story house with about 720 Sq. ft. on each floor. The basement was finished as well, so it was really three levels. My grandpa took the whole dining room and then the living room and kitchen were all that was left on the first floor. Before he was sick, he had a room in the corner of the basement like a janitor would.
My grandma worked the night shift at Methodist Hospital and I could see she was getting really worn out trying to care for my grandpa and work full time 11 p.m. to 7 a.m.
Even though I felt like my grandma didn’t care for me, I loved her and would have died trying to win her approval at that time. One morning I was sleeping on the couch in the living room when my grandma walked in the door from work.
I could see she could barely move her body. Grandma Mena was a very beautiful woman with fair skin, beautiful hair, large breasts, curvy hips, and some nice curvy buns. She would be considered a 10. She normally kept her pretty, curly, wavy black hair short but styled so she had an easier time getting ready for work. Grandma Mena loved earrings like none other and she had a vast collection of all shapes and sizes.
In a groggy voice I said, “Hi grandma. How are you this morning?”
My grandma said, “I don’t know if I can keep doing this Sweetie, this is too much for me to handle. My insurance won’t help pay for your grandpa’s diapers and the milk he needs for his feeding tube is very expensive.”
I said, “I’ll try to give you more money Grandma.”
She said, “That’s not it Sweetie, it’s just a constant struggle. I am 58 years old and it is hard for me to lift your grandpa out of that bed and put him in his chair two times a day.”
My grandma would come home from work about 7:15 in the morning after working 12 hours on the night shift and as soon as she got in the door she would fill the bath basin with warm water and go bathe my grandpa. Then she would change all of his sheets and pillowcases. She would then lotion him all over, put a diaper on him, dress him, and then she would finish up putting a touch of cologne on him before she moved him into his recliner.
My grandma would tell him, “Now Normie, don’t you be flirting with those nurses when they come over here either.” My grandma could be very loving when she wanted to be and, especially kind to those she liked. No matter how she felt about me, she treated my grandpa like a king and I couldn’t dislike her because of that.
My grandfather Normie was a very well-known and loved man. So people were always stopping by to visit him. After all that it was time for her to do therapy with him. She would perform all the range of motion exercises the doctor had given her to try to keep my grandpa’s arms and legs from stiffening up. She worked grandpa Normie altogether for over two hours
I watched her intently morning after morning waiting for my shot. My grandma wasn’t the kind of person whom you tried to take over anything from. She had to be the one to offer or ask for help. My grandma, even at almost sixty would lay you flat out on the ground. She had a left hook like Tyson, for real. She was a thick and stout woman with arms of steel.
After all of that was done, she would put one of her hands under his neck and put her other hand just under his bottom and she would lift him up out of the bed and swing him into his recliner.
There grandpa Normie sat and watched television until his nap, my grandma continued to try to give him regular food, but he would choke on it because his throat was partially paralyzed. Then she would pick him back up out of his recliner and put him back in the bed, change his diaper again, make sure the tube that went into his stomach was clean and didn’t come loose, all while she was carrying him.
Then after his nap she would take him out again and do the whole routine all over until it was time to put him to bed. I was quite amazed as I watched my grandma perform this whole routine with my grandpa every single day. My grandma was a true G, and she was no joke. Every once in a while one of my uncles would come in town or come by just in time to help her, but most of the time she did it alone.
I got tired of waiting for my grandma to ask me to help, so one day I just got the nerve and I asked her.
I said, “Please grandma, let me help you with grandpa.”
My grandma never cared for the close relationship me and grandpa Normie had any way, that’s why I was afraid to ask in the first place.
My grandma said, “No, he is my husband and it’s my responsibility to do this.”
I said, “But grandma, just for one week, please let me help you so you can regain your strength, even if it is just on a trial basis. If I don’t do it right then you can fire me, I promise.”
I assured her that I could do it, because I used to help out when grandpa stayed with my mom when he was first released from the hospital. After much pleading and begging she let me take over the routine. My first morning on duty I walked into the dining room and my grandma was there, but she was passed out on the sofa, where she always slept, from exhaustion.
I said, “Good morning Grandpa, I am Nurse Sweetie and I will be helping you for the week.”
His mouth was paralyzed, but one corner would turn slightly and you could tell he was laughing if you knew him. Grandpa gave me that crooked smile he had.
I said, “Okay Grandpa, you’re going to have to help me help you, you remember when I helped you at mom’s house?”
I took his bath basin and sat it on the kitchen counter and proceeded to fill it up with water pitchers of warm water. I turned the water faucet off gathered all the washing materials I needed, sat them by his bed, then came back and put two hands on the basin and picked it up. When I picked it up, there was only one problem and it wasn’t moving.
I thought, “That’s funny, it moves when grandma picks it up every day.” I looked on the counter and underneath and I wondered, “Is it stuck on something?”
I said, “Hum, this is stuck on something.”
I tugged at it and tugged at it. It wouldn’t budge. I bent my knees strong and tried to pick it up, nothing, it wouldn’t move. It had to be stuck on a nail or something, I thought.
I finally figured out that a bath basin full of water is very heavy and my grandma was just she-woman.
But I had to lift it because my grandpa needed a bath and my grandma was counting on me to help. Lillie crawled about on the floor, so I put her in her playpen so she wouldn’t get hurt.
I slid the water filled basin to the edge of the counter, I took in a deep breath and grabbed it with both hands using all of my strength and, “1, 2, 3, ugghhhhh,” but nothing happened.
I quietly whispered, “Damn it!” I was so frustrated. How could a grandma lift it and I can’t? I walked in and looked at my grandpa.
I said, “Grandpa, please pray for God to give me strength, I’m not doing too good of a job here.”
My grandpa looked at me and then he busted out laughing in the way I knew he was really laughing.
I said, “Grandpa, you are supposed to be praying for me, not laughing at me!”
I walked back into the kitchen and told myself, “Your grandpa can die of an infection if you don’t do this!” He had already had big bed sores when he was staying in the hospital and I didn’t want him getting those painful things again.
I shouted under my breath, “God give me STRENGTH!!!”
I wrestled that bath basin and I walked as fast as I could to the dining room where grandpa was with the water sloshing all over the sides of the basin and splashing on the floor. I slammed the basin down hard on the buffet.
My grandma asked in a weak voice from the sofa, barely raising her head, “Are you okay Sweetie?”
I said, “Everything is fine Grandma, you can go back to sleep.” Grandma mumbled lightly and she was back to sleep. I was kind of scared, because I suddenly remembered that I had heard my grandma say to somebody that my grandpa had gotten aroused when she was washing him one time.
I thought, “Oh God, what if that happens again? Why I agreed to do it, I didn’t know, I will never be able to wash my grandpa if something like that happens.” I looked at my Grandpa.
I said, “Look grandpa, I know this is awkward for you with your granddaughter seeing you naked, but I have to help grandma out since she is tired.”
I said, “Here is the deal, I am your granddaughter and I love you, this is a little uncomfortable for me too, okay?”
I took his diaper off and cleaned his private parts, then I laid a towel over them to give him some privacy while I cleaned the rest of his body. Thank God he never got aroused when I or anyone else cleaned him except for my grandma. I said, “Okay, now I have to change your sheets grandpa.” After I changed his sheets, I put his diaper on him and then put his clothes on him, making sure to be cautious around his feeding tube.
I put a touch of cologne on him as Grandma did, and I did his exercises with him. Then it was time to put him in the chair. I looked at my grandpa and said, “Are you ready Grandpa?”
He started moaning and making faces, I said, “What? Did I hurt you?”
He shook his head no and he motioned with the only hand he could use towards the lotion bottle on the table.
I said, “What?”
He motioned and moaned some more, but then I realized he was telling me that I had forgotten to lotion him. So I had to take all of his clothes off again and lotion him all over, then put them all back on. Then it was time to put him in the chair.
I said, “Alright Grandpa, we’re going to do this just like Grandma does, are you ready?”
I counted, “A one, two, and a three.”
I tried to pick him up, but he didn’t budge.
I said, “Okay, I’m serious this time Grandpa, let’s go!”
I counted again with, “A one, two, and a three!”
I got him half way off of the bed and the rest of his body was hanging partly on the ground, my grandpa was a tall, gangly man at about 6ft. 4in. and about 200 pounds of dead weight. My grandma had made this whole routine look sooooo much easier than it really was.
My grandma muttered, “You okay Sweetie?” With her eyes still closed, she continued to keep mumbling as if she could tell what was going on without looking. I blew out a deep breath and said, “Sure Grandma, everything is fine.”
If my grandma would have looked up and saw what was really going on she would have had a fit. She would have seen my grandpa holding on to my neck with one hand for dear life and sliding down to the floor. I was so happy she was too tired to raise her head.
I whispered, “Shh! Grandpa don’t wake Grandma up, she will kill me!” Even after I had Lillie I still weighed 110 pounds and was still 5ft. 3in. I would grow to 5ft. 4in. my final height after I stopped growing. After being homeless I was closer to 100 pounds. My grandpa was a lot of tall, dead weight.
Grandpa kept skidding down lower and lower, but he was grasping and holding onto my neck for dear life. Apparently, Grandpa thought the whole ordeal was funny and he started laughing harder than I had ever seen him laugh.
I said, “That’s alright Grandpa, you can have a laugh on me, but whatever you do, just don’t wake Grandma up. Now come on, please can you help me before Grandma wakes up and I get in trouble?”
After about 15 minutes of struggling, I managed to drag my grandpa over to his recliner. The only problem was that when I got him to the chair and pivoted us both to get him in it, I ended up underneath him and he was sitting on my lap. After I dug my way from beneath him, he was in the recliner, but he wasn’t even close to being in the upright position what with his head almost where the butt normally sits.
I got behind the chair and tried to pull him up from under his arm pits. I positioned him the best I could in the chair to watch television. He was pretty slouched down in the chair when Grandma woke up, but she told me I did a good job. That was to this day the heaviest lifting I have ever done.
I sat Lillie up on the bed with grandpa Normie every chance I got, he cried tears of joy seeing and touching her. His arms were stiff from the stroke, but he bent one of them somewhat around her to give her a hug. Lillie was too young to even know what was going on. She just sat there and played. That was unusual for her, since she would scream bloody murder if anyone even looked her way. She didn’t let anyone usually hold or touch her.
My best friend Lynney called me from Rock Island and said she would like to see me. Lynney paid for my trip down there. She still lived with her mom and her two younger brothers in an apartment. She wanted me to move there and get an apartment with her. I had fun and we went everywhere and hung out. We were pregnant at the same time and she had her daughter one month after I had Lillie.
Since our babies were the same age. We dressed them alike, went to the mall, did girly stuff, and took pictures to preserve the happy memories. It was a big relief from the strenuous life I had been living. I had made several trips there as a young teen; surprisingly, my mom and dad let me visit Lynney a couple times a year alone after she moved away.
We were 14-years-old when her family uprooted her. It broke my heart, we were best friends. I had been so lonely without Lynney. Lynney had a whole new set of friends and I got along with everybody. We all hung out together and went out to the teen clubs when I was there to visit, but I couldn’t dance a lick. I was the most uncoordinated girl. Then it was time to come back home to reality.
We didn’t have teen clubs in or near our home town. Their teen clubs there in Rock Island, were like adult clubs. I said good bye to everyone and headed back home. Lillie and I had driven down there in my 1970 Mustang. It was reliable and it got me back home just fine.
I returned back to my grandma’s house and settled back into my normal life of helping take care of my grandpa.
My grandma’s van had broken and she asked me if my Uncle Tony could use my car to take her to work and pick her up every day.
I said, “Of course Grandma, that’s fine with me I can drive you if you want.”
My grandma said, “No, Tony can drive me in your car.”
I said, “Okay, that’s fine.”
My grandma seemed to be becoming fond of me now that I was helping with my grandpa and letting Uncle Tony use my car to get her to work and back; however, that would all be changing soon.
I’m not sure what happened. My Mustang was a stick, so I’m not sure what Uncle Tony did, but he pulled up in front of the house one day and the Mustang was smoking really bad.
That ended all that goodness between me and Grandma. My grandma quickly found someone else to transport her to work when my car was broken. I had to pay $200 to get it fixed and that was a lot of money back then.
One day, shortly after the car broke, my grandma asked to speak with me and my cousin Trazoli, I said, “Okay.”
I sat down for the meeting. My grandma said, “Sweetie, I am going to need more rent from you, you are not keeping up with your share of the bills.”
I said, “But grandma, I don’t have any more money, I almost give you all of my check and I give you all of my food stamps.”
She said, “Well, I need more money or else you have to find another place to stay.”
I said, “Okay, grandma I will see what I can come up with.”
Trazoli and I left the meeting with my grandma and went up to my room.
Trazoli looked at me and said, “What was that all about?”
I said, “You should know, she likes you, you know Grandma has always hated me!”
She said, “I know, I’m sorry Sweetie.”
I said, “It’s not your fault.
Trazoli said, “I feel bad, I pay a third of what you pay to stay here and you have a baby.”
Trazoli said, “I have an idea, let’s move out and get our own apartment, between the both of us we have enough money.”
I said, “Really Trazoli? You would do that for me?”
She said, “Of course, you are my favorite cousin.”
Trazoli had lost her mother when we were 12-years-old and her dad was on the road as a professional truck driver 90 percent of the time, so she had lived from family member to family member since then.
Trazoli and I were both 17-years-old when we moved into our first place that was all our own. It was a 3 bedroom apartment and we chose the 3 bedrooms because it was cheaper than two. The place was nice and we got a good deal at $300 a month, all utilities paid.
Trazoli was very beautiful as well, she stood about 5ft. 5in. and was about 140 pounds, and she had a beautiful smile, light crème colored skin, pretty lighter brown dove eyes with very large breasts. The two of us together were dynamite. I had broken up with Sandy by way of not speaking with him anymore, since I was completely fed up from the top of my head to the tip of my toes with his mental, verbal, and physically abusive ways.
My cousin Trazoli was good for me. Losing her mother in many ways had made her wise beyond her years and she started helping me get my confidence back.
Trazoli worked as a waitress and we ran cars for one of my uncles. I had a hard time getting a regular job because I didn’t have anyone to watch Lillie. Lillie had social issues as she wouldn’t let anyone other than me, my mom, and sometimes my brother come near her.
Nobody wanted to watch Lillie because she was a cry baby. I had a truly valid fear of her being abused because she cried so much. I was jumping for joy when my Uncle Billy offered to let me and Trazoli run cars for him. He owned a car lot and we would drive cars for him 3 to 4 hours away and bring a car or two back for him.
I was allowed to take Lillie with me and I made enough money to fully support us by myself. Things were going good for me. I let Irma and Sr. and Sandy all know they were free to take Lillie any time they wanted to spend time with her. But, I knew they wouldn’t. Yet, I could say I didn’t keep her from them, because I offered. I never heard anything from them since they didn’t want anything to do with me or Lillie.
I was just living my life and enjoying it, hanging out with my cousins and uncles, taking care of my daughter, it felt great. My grandma was still having kids when she was older, so I had an uncle my exact age and one younger than me.
My mom had 11 brothers and sisters and my dad had at least 16 siblings. I was a girly girl, but I loved being tough hanging out with the boys too. Since I had three brothers and a ton of uncles, I didn’t have much choice growing up. I loved to race cars, work on them with my dad, and I played pool, cards, and sports.
My Uncle Jon, was also 17-years-old, and my favorite Uncle Alan was 20-years-old. They decided they wanted to flee the nest of their girlfriends’ apartments. Since Trazoli and I had two extra bedrooms they both moved in with us, and crazily they brought their girlfriends with them. My uncles were all good looking and there was no shortage of women where they were concerned.
We were a big, happy family. They helped with the bills and we were all doing well. I went out on a couple of dates in a large group setting, but nothing worth talking about. I briefly dated this one guy named Shaun, but he was a year younger than me and I really wasn’t interested in him. I felt more of an attraction to older guys.
He was a good looking boy, but not my style. Besides, Shaun was almost the same height as I was and I definitely wasn’t attracted to shorter guys.
Shaun ran track for UNI and he fell in love with me, according to him and his mom. I told Shaun I really wasn’t interested in him that way and I just wanted to be friends. However, Shaun would call me day and night. He would even put his mom on the phone to talk to me.
I asked her if she was aware I had a baby and I was never married but she didn’t seem to care, she just said her son was in love with me and that was all that mattered. Shaun asked me to travel three hours with him and meet his mom. I couldn’t say no because his mom had been so nice to me on the phone and she really wanted to meet me. I couldn’t seem to shake him.
When I was with him visiting his mom I brought Lillie with me because Shaun’s mom wanted to meet her new soon-to-be-granddaughter. We were all three standing in Shaun’s parents’ living room when Shaun asked his mom to hold Lillie for a second. Lillie seemed to take to them both.
I was thinking, “How dare Shaun ask someone else to hold my baby,” and I kept an eye on her. Shaun dropped down to one knee and grabbed my hand. He took out what looked like at least a carat diamond and went to place it on my left ring finger.
He said, “I have really grown to care for you Sweetie, and I promise to love Lillie and raise her as my own if you will be my wife and marry me. We can get married when I graduate college, I will be making good money to take care of you both.”
I was blown away. I had no clue the boy was going to do that. I know he really had taken to Lillie and couldn’t wait to be a father to her. I was shocked and frozen. I looked over at Shaun’s mom holding Lillie, smiling and waiting for my answer.
I pulled my hand back and my finger out of the ring that was not yet all the way up my finger and I said, “Shaun, you are so sweet and the fact that you want to take on Lillie as your own, I know you are going to be a good father someday.”
He looked at me eagerly.
I said, ‘I’m sorry Shaun, I am messed up right now. I am still in love with Lillie’s father even after all he’s done to me. I just can’t quit loving him, I’m sorry.”
Shaun cried. I didn’t know what to do, so I knelt down and I hugged him.
I said, “I’m so sorry, please understand, you are young and when you get older, you will realize I did the best thing for you, okay?”
I put my hand over my mouth to stop the throw-up from coming out, I ran to the bathroom and threw up everywhere. I felt dizzy and weak. Shaun’s mom came running up. She led me to the sofa in the living room, laid me down and covered me up. I was weak, I passed out.
When I came to I screamed, “Where’s my baby?” Shaun’s mom, said, “She’s fine, she is taking a nap.”
I didn’t even know why I was sick, but it was nothing new, I drifted back off and slept for a few more hours. When I awoke, I thanked Shaun’s mom for all of her help and I apologized to his mom. It was a long weird ride back home with Shaun. I thought I finally got rid of him, but I didn’t and he still called me repeatedly, “Just as friends”, he would say.
One day I picked up the phone and I thought it was Shaun again, plus I had just got through telling him that I was busy and didn’t want to talk.
So I said, “Shaun, I told you I can’t talk right now, I’m busy.”
The voice on the other end said, “Whose Shaun?”
I said, “Sandy?”
He said, “Yep, whose Shaun?”
I said, “Why are you worried about it, we’re not together anymore.”
He said, “Who is Shaun?”
I said, “What do you want Sandy?”
He said, “I heard you got your own place. I want to know who Shaun is, does he live with you, and do you have this strange guy around my daughter?”
I said, “Bye Sandy!” and I hung up the phone.
The phone rang again, Lillie was sleeping and I didn’t want her to wake, so I quickly answered it.
I said, “What Sandy!”
The voice on the other end said, “Sandy?”
I was like what the hell, am I in the Twilight Zone or what?
Shaun said, “It’s Shaun, not Sandy.”
I said, “Okay, Shaun. I thought you were Sandy.”
Shaun said, “I thought you hadn’t spoken with Sandy in a long time.”
I said, “Yeah, I know, but he’s calling all of the sudden, he didn’t ask for Lillie or anything, he’s just calling to harass me.”
Next thing I know, I hear another voice on the line. I was thinking, “This is getting really creepy and crazy.”
The voice said, “This is the operator. I’m sorry to interrupt your call, but there is a family emergency on the line for you.”
I said, “Oh God, okay. I will take the call.”
I said, “I have to go Shaun, but I will call you back.”
I said, “Hello, who is it?”
The voice said, “So who is Shaun?”
I said, “Sandy, you are a jerk, quit calling me unless it has to do with Lillie, okay?”
Sandy said, “Yes, it does. I would like to see my daughter and bring her some Pampers and toys, so I need to know where you live, so I can come by.”
I said, “Let me call you back in a couple of hours Sandy, Bye.”
Sandy said, “Okay, but call me, I have a right to see my daughter.”
We hung up, I went up to me and my cousin Trazoli’s room on the second floor, there were two bedrooms up and one bedroom down. We shared a room and each of my uncles had the other two. I knocked on her cubby door, she was a little groggy from taking a nap. I offered to come back, but she waved me in.
Our room was huge, it had a big cubby hole and that’s where Trazoli slept. We all slept on the floor, everyone in the apartment. Coming from really large families, we were used to sleeping on the floor and felt comfortable there.
I said, “Trazoli, Sandy wants to come over and see Lillie and bring her some diapers, what do you think?”
She said, “Well, he is her father.”
I said, “Yeah, you’re right, thanks, go back to sleep.”
I went back downstairs and called Sandy back.
I said, “Okay Sandy, you can come by and see Lillie, you are going to bring her some diapers?”
He said, “Yes, how about tonight?”
I said, “Can you come by tomorrow night?” I had to wait until I knew my uncles would be gone from the house because they didn’t like Sandy at all.
Sandy said, “Yes, what time?” I had a car run to do so I set it up for after that.
I said, “When I get off work about six?”
He said, “Okay, but where do you work?”
I said, “Never mind that Sandy.” I gave Sandy our address.
Sandy said, “Okay, I will see you then.”
So it was Friday night and I heard a knock on the door, it was Sandy and he had his friend Jerry with him. Jerry was the one who was driving Sandy in the car when I first met him in Unicorn Park.
Jerry had become increasingly more of a jerk off as time went by. Jerry was someone I disliked just as much as Sandy. I personally felt much of Sandy’s demonic behavior was induced and coerced by Jerry throughout our relationship. They hung out like two peas in a pod all the time.
Jerry could never get a girlfriend he was so hideously fugly, mean and a downright jerk.
In the past, whenever he would come over to visit Sandy when I lived with Sandy and his parents, Jerry would get a high when Sandy treated me like crap.
One time Sandy brought Jerry over when I was living with him and his parents were out of town, Sandy started physically pushing me around for no reason in front of Jerry and started calling me names.
It was weird, at first I thought it was some kind of joke, but I could tell Sandy was doing it just because Jerry was egging him on. Jerry seemed to have some kind of strange control over Sandy. My mom thought they were gay together. I told Sandy back then not to bring Jerry around me, not ever.
Sandy would say stuff like, “Yeah, get over here bitch! Kneel down! Fix my food!” Stuff like that. I didn’t find it humorous at all. They would laugh. So I was wondering what Jerry was doing at my apartment with Sandy when he knew I couldn’t stand Jerry.
I pulled Sandy inside the apartment door and shut the door leaving Jerry on the porch.
I said, “Sandy, what is Jerry doing here? Why would you bring him to my house?”
Sandy said, “I didn’t have a ride, my car broke down. I talked Jerry into giving me a ride by telling him about your cousin Trazoli and he wanted to meet her.”
I said, “Are you crazy, Trazoli would never talk to someone as hideous as Jerry and where are Lillie’s diapers?”
Sandy said, “I didn’t want to get the wrong diapers, so I figured you could come with me to make sure I get the right stuff for her.”
I said, “Just give me some money Sandy and I will get them myself, do you want to see Lillie now?”
Sandy said, “Hold on just a second.”
Sandy went out on the porch where Jerry was and stayed out there for what seemed like 15 minutes. By that time Trazoli had come down from the second floor holding Lillie to see what the commotion was about.
I said, “Trazoli, Sandy is here with his friend and he told me he didn’t want to get the wrong diapers for Lillie, so he wanted me to come to the store with him, what do you think?”
Trazoli said, “Well, you’re not going alone, I will go with you. I don’t trust him at all!”
I said, “I know, but he wants to do something for his daughter finally, it may be the last time he wants to do something for all I know. She does need some stuff, we haven’t ran cars for a minute and our money is so low. The Uncles are short now too.”
Since Trazoli had lost her mother, she had to fend for herself from the age of 12. She was forced to grow up quickly. It made her way more street savvy than me. She was older than me by four months. So she jokingly called herself my elder. She was extremely mature for her age, almost motherly in nature.
I told her, “Okay, thanks for going with me.”
Sandy knocked on the door and came back inside. He sat down on the couch and asked if Jerry could come in and sit down. Sandy went and got him and they came back in and sat on the sofa.
Sandy looked at Trazoli and said, “Hey, my friend Jerry here thinks you are beautiful and would like to buy you a drink. Why don’t you and Sweetie come and have a drink with us and we will stop by the store and get all the stuff Lillie needs.”
I said, “No Sandy, I have Lillie I can’t go have a drink.”
Sandy said, “Come on Sweetie, I would like to make up for all the stuff I put you through, let’s get on good terms again and raise our daughter together. I have really changed, just give me a chance to prove it to you, please?”
Sandy continued, “Do you think your mom could watch Lillie while we get a drink? It won’t be too long.”
I felt something weird was going on, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. I thought that maybe Sandy was just being sneaky about trying to fix Jerry up with Trazoli.
With a skeptic tone I said, “I don’t know Sandy, do you even have any money to buy Lillie diapers.”
Sandy pulled out a roll of money.
He said, “I just got a new job and I am making a lot of money now. I feel bad for the way I treated you in the past and I just want to go get Lillie the stuff I know you need for her, okay. I have a lot to make up for.”
I pulled Trazoli to the side and said, “What do you think?”
She whispered, “He wants to make stuff up to you Sweetie, it’s up to you. I know you really need help right now with Lillie, I still don’t trust him!”
I said, “Yeah, I know, I don’t trust him either, but I desperately need stuff for Lillie.”
I hesitantly packed Lillie up and took her to my mom’s house, I told my mom I wouldn’t be more than two hours. I told her that Sandy was taking me shopping to get Lillie diapers, food, and some other stuff. Of course she was shocked, but happy he was finally doing something for his baby.
My mom said, “That is great! Maybe he has decided to finally grow up!”
I said, “Yeah, maybe he has. If he has changed, I definitely want Lillie to know her father and her other grandparents.”
My fear and hesitation turned into happiness, I was so happy he finally wanted to spend time with Lillie and take care of her. I was wondering what made Sandy finally come around and actually want to do something nice for his daughter. I guess it was his new job. Having a job can definitely make a boy into a responsible man.
We all got into Jerry’s car, Jerry was driving and Sandy was in the front passenger seat. Trazoli was in the back behind Sandy’s seat and I was sitting behind Jerry’s seat.
I leaned up front and said, “What store are we going to shop at to get Lillie’s stuff?”
Sandy said, “We will get there, let’s celebrate first. Let’s celebrate my new job and turning over a new leaf, to us making up and moving forward to raise our daughter together, let’s have a drink.”
I looked at Trazoli and she shrugged her shoulders as if to say okay, if you want to.
I said, “Really quickly, because my mom has to go to work at 2am and she is going to get pissed if I don’t hurry back and get Lillie.”
We pulled up at Quik-Trip and Sandy and Jerry went inside to buy something to drink. He asked what I wanted and I told Sandy to get some beer.
Trazoli looked at me as we waited in the car. She whispered, “I’m not touching that douchebag Sweetie.”
I said, “I know, I hate him. I’m only doing this so Lillie can have her father in her life and plus it looks like he’s finally changed Trazoli. He has a job Trazoli, maybe he just may turn out to be a good father after all.”
Trazoli said, “Both you and Lillie deserve it Sweetie.”
Sandy and Jerry returned to the car, they had beer and wine coolers. They had a two liter wine cooler bottle, some cups and some beer quarts.
They poured us each a cup handed them back to Trazoli and I with the cups still foaming over. I remember Trazoli, who was very independent saying, “I can pour my own!” She liked wine coolers.
As I pushed it back toward him, I said, “No Sandy, I don’t like wine coolers.”
Sandy said, “Come on, these are a new and have a better taste. Besides we already spent the money. Just try it and you will see.”
Trazoli said, “I love wine coolers as she sucked hers down.”
I said, “Whatever, can we go to the store now?”
Sandy said, “Yes, we can.”
I sipped on my winecooler, it did taste pretty good, I drank some more of it. We both finished our cups as they drove around. Trazoli had another cup. They handed me one, but I didn’t drink it. I didn’t want to be drunk when I picked Lillie up.
Jerry kept driving around town and we all kept talking and drinking, Sandy kept trying to hand us more wine coolers in the backseat. I didn’t want any more, so he poured me some beer.
I said, “I really have to get back home now, if we’re not going to the store, my mom is going to get mad!”
Sandy said, “Jerry just needs to stop by his apartment really quickly.”
I groggily said, “Okay.” I remember feeling extremely sleepy and tired.
When I had spoken to Sandy earlier on the telephone, he was making suggestions about hooking back up with me. I made it very clear that I was completely uninterested in ever touching him again physically or sexually. I told Sandy before he came over, “I’m not on birth control and I don’t have any here, so it’s definitely not an option to have sex with you, I won’t be falling into that trap again.”
Besides, after all the abuse from Sandy, I was done with him relationship wise, even though I had not gotten over him completely. I just hoped and dreamed that we could be agreeable enough for the sake of our daughter. I was struggling financially and really needed some help. So, I was only meeting with him for the benefit of our daughter.
That conversation was worthless. I should have never went with Sandy or Jerry anywhere. I should have known I could not trust Sandy from his past actions. I should have known I couldn’t trust my own decision making skills. The results of those two things were disastrous.
The next thing I remembered was waking up to Sandy raping me. Somehow Jerry and Sandy had gotten me up several flights of stairs and into Uncle Jon’s bedroom upstairs on the 2nd floor of the 3 bedroom apartment Trazoli and I shared together.
Thinking back now, they didn’t know my uncles were living there too. We never talked, so there was no reason for them to know. My Uncles were out doing what they do.
The bedroom was empty and had really flat thin gray carpet and pale green walls with a floor register. It was winter outside and it was really cold.
I could not believe Sandy was raping me unprotected, he knew for a fact I was not on any kind of birth control. Apparently, they drugged me. It had to be put in the winecooler I drank. I had little use of my head and I couldn’t lift it up at that point, only side to side. I couldn’t speak words, I couldn’t say stop and I could only groan. My arms and legs felt like they weighed 100 pounds each. I could pull them up about an inch off the ground and then they fell back down.
As Sandy was raping me on the cold bare floor, I looked out towards a glow I could see in the near distance, I could make out the figure. It looked like Sandy’s friend Jerry was standing in the doorway in the direction of my feet. He was watching Sandy rape me. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I was crying. It was really hard to breathe. I was laying naked in the middle of a dark, empty room on barely there carpet, cold and dirty.
I felt dizzy and then I blacked out. After being unconscious for an unknown period of time, I started slowly regaining consciousness and when I woke up, it was to Jerry violently raping me orally, it was like he was a mad animal.
All I could think was, what kind of disgusting and vile human being would orally rape a 17 year-old girl, right after another man had raped her and without a condom? After he finished orally raping me, Jerry lay on top of me face to face and he started violently kissing me.
Jerry and his grubby-nasty-dirty-filthy-beaver-sized-bucked-teeth were hurting and cutting my lips, as he raped me vaginally. Jerry was the ugliest and nastiest pale motherfcker in the world.
I’m sorry, but it pisses me off to have to think about it again. No, it would not have made a difference if he looked better, it was just he was so filthy and his hygiene was disgusting. I would never touch a human being like him by choice and he was very aware of that.
No matter what, I was grateful that God had intervened, yet once again. At least I was partially paralyzed, I could feel the rape, but it was dulled due to the effects of the drug they had slipped into my drink. I truly believed in that moment that the psychological damage that was done to me, was irreparable. The worst part of it all was that Jerry and Sandy both knew I abhorred Jerry and yet they made a deal to make it happen.
Jerry was a dirty disgusting white hog. It was an inexplicable feeling, I knew they were raping me, but I could do nothing. Sandy stood in the door and watched. The glow of the hall light through the wide open door was highlighting his outline. I tried to scream at Sandy to stop Jerry, but no words would come out, only groans. I wanted Sandy to help me so badly.
Jerry finished what he was doing to me and pulled his pants up as he walked to the door. I couldn’t make my mind figure out how to form words to speak or how to send the message to it to let my arms move. As I lay still on the floor, totally naked, I looked towards the doorway. I could see Sandy and Jerry stand face to face with each other. Sandy looked at Jerry and extended his hand and they shook hands.
Sandy said, “We’re even now? I don’t owe you the $2,000?”
Jerry said, “Yeah man, I told you, we are even now.”
They shook hands and both Jerry and Sandy left the room. Then Jerry quickly returned to the room alone. I don’t know if he told Sandy he left his wallet or something. I don’t know where Sandy went at that time. But, I looked up and saw Jerry come running back over to where I was laying. Jerry kicked me in the side so hard it flipped me back over onto my stomach and then he spit on me. It landed on the side of my face and in my hair.
Jerry said, “You are a grimy whore and you deserved every single thing we just gave you. Do you hear me you dirty, rotten, slutty bitch, huh? Do you think I couldn’t see that you had been wanting to fk me for a long time now? I saw the way you used to look at me like you wanted to suck my ck. Well, now I have given you what you’ve always wanted!”
I lay there on my stomach with my eyes closed pretending to be passed out. Part of me was afraid they would come back and kill me, so I couldn’t tell on them. I had to be quiet and not move, they were both evil, I had no doubt they would have killed me if they thought I was awake, aware and able.
The other part of me was thinking totally differently. I was thinking, “As soon as I get out of the state I’m in, I’m going to fu him up!” If only I could move, we would be on a roadrunner roll. I’m so serious. I wanted to tell him, “I’m going to hunt you down and rip every last hair off your body, knock out those Beaver teeth and then give you a happy face!”
However, since I couldn’t even speak, I just lay there until Jerry left again and then I went unconscious again.
I’m not sure how much time passed before I woke up. I would later find out it was about 4:30am. When I could finally move enough to get out of the room, I started crawling. My body still felt really heavy and dense. I drug myself to the doorway across the rugged floor scraping and burning my belly on the rough carpet that was patched in.
It felt like it took me 30 minutes to get there. The door was about 7 feet away from where I was laying. Once I got out to the short narrow hallway that was decorated with pale green paint and green shag carpet. I was only two feet away from the double landing staircase that was covered with brown shag carpet. I slithered like a snake on my belly down the 2nd landing. It was difficult due to the thickness of the shag carpet.
Still burning my belly on the carpet, I slid my naked body down the stairs. When I got towards the bottom of the 1st flight. I started to pass out again. Somehow I ended up on my back. I was hanging on the stairwell upside down and head first. I’m not sure what happened, I guess I had been trying to get down the stairs, I don’t remember, I just went unconscious again.
When I gained consciousness, I started throwing up, but I couldn’t move. I remember the feeling of my stomach and chest deeply heaving and contracting while I was gagging and suffocating, too weak to breathe and do anything about it. I was suffocating and choking on my own vomit and I was dying. I started to lose unconsciousness again.
I heard the door open and my uncles cussing and feet running. I started crying. Both Alan and Jon grabbed me and flipped me over to my stomach, so I would stop choking.
Wailing, tears still flowing I cried, “You guys… saw… me… naked.”
They each removed their coats and threw them on top of my body.
Uncle Alan said, “Don’t worry Sweetie, it was dark and we barely saw anything.”
“Yeah,” Uncle Jon agreed, “We didn’t see anything, don’t worry about it, we are your uncles and just be glad God brought us in here in time to save you before you choked to death, naked or not.”
I was still crying out loud and whimpering out loud like a fully grown baby.
Uncle Jon said, “Wait a minute, why are you even naked on the stairs anyway?”
Uncle Alan said, “What’s going on with your face?”
Still wailing, I uttered, “Sandy and his friend raped me.” I was surprised I could speak well again.
Uncle Alan and Uncle Jon simultaneously screamed, “What the fu! Where is this motherfuer at?”
They lost it as they both started throwing chairs into the wall in their rage.
Uncle Jon said, “Where is that dirty mother fuing bastard at! Tell me right fuin’ now!”
Trazoli came downstairs and said, “What’s going on?”
I wasn’t sure how she had slept so soundly with everything that was going on. Maybe she was drugged too. I wondered how Trazoli was unaware of anything that was going on. Trazoli told our uncles where Sandy and Jerry had taken us earlier when Jerry had run up to his apartment for something while we were riding around.
My uncles Alan and Jon got on the phone and called the Uncles. They ran into their rooms, grabbed their sawed offs and all of their other guns up out of the floor registers and they took off. Trazoli and I were the only two left in the house. The sun was starting to shine through the bathroom window, daylight was coming.
It was about 6am at that time. Trazoli helped me up to the bathtub and ran some hot water for me to get in. I bathed with Yardley’s Oatmeal bath soap and I will always remember that smell. I used to love the smell of the soap. But, now I hate it, it reminds me of that night.
I pulled my knees up so snug to my chest I could see the red marks on my legs from the tight grip of my hands. My body battered and bruised, my face bleeding in spots. My lip with cuts. I had watched movies before when, after a girl was raped, she scrubbed herself raw in the shower in an attempt to remove the scum that had penetrated her body and mind.
I truly felt like I was trapped in a bad movie, lost in time. My cousin Trazoli sat on the toilet, not quite sure what to say to me. She was pretending to read the bath soap box. I wasn’t looking at her, but I had the feeling she was looking uncomfortable.
I sat there quietly in the soapy, milky water. Tears dropping heavily like bombs.
Oddly, the girls in the movies seemed to want to scrub themselves raw to get the filth off I, on the other hand, couldn’t move. I just sat there still. I was almost in a trance-like state.
I knew one thing if I knew nothing else, I vowed to never ever again in my lifetime be a victim. From that point on I swore to myself I would be the predator and never the prey.
I would from that point on find as many weak and loving men as I could and dog the living hell out of them. I hated men with all my heart. I had done nothing in my life, but try to love everyone I crossed paths with, but it seemed all everyone wanted to do was hurt me, when all I wanted to do was love them.
Never again! Never again! The last man in my life had had his way with me, the last man in my life had taken advantage of me, and the last man in my life had abused me!
From the age of four on up I had continued to be abused. Why had I allowed it? No more! Sandy would be the last man! I meant it! The last man! I swore it! I sat there and devised a vigilant plan. I would draw them in with my beauty and I would hurt them, I would hurt them all! I would annihilate them all. I would!
I drifted off into deep thought and away from my plan for a minute. What had happened in my life to make me feel I was worthless enough or feel like I was low enough to deserve to be with someone like Sandy? I was bound to get to the bottom of it.
However, to do that, I had to go way back, all the way back to that innocent age of four. What happened to me when I was four-years-old was what had shaped my life and my mentality up to that point.
I needed to work backwards through it, so I didn’t continue to make the same mistakes.
I started to remember, remember things I had chosen not to remember, things I forced myself to forget. Things I was ashamed to remember and things that, if people knew, they would never look at me again the same.
Every tear that hit the milky water that morning aged me years, every one taking a fragment of my hardening soul with it on each ripple that drifted in the sea that was my life. A 17-year-old girl who was now aged beyond her years.
All the disgrace I had felt before as a young girl had met its match.
There was no amount of humiliation that I had faced in my life up to that point, nothing on the earth that could compare to what was next.
It was that shameful and sinful seed that was planted inside my womb on that malevolent, malicious and wicked night that would be an inciter for the events that would happen next.
I had sold my dignity…for what?
……………………….. for a pack of diapers.
To Be Continued in Chronicle II
[Please take a look at Sweetie Bee’s other books available at
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This book is a new theory on the murder of six year-old JonBenét Ramsey.
An investigative look at the book Heaven Is for Real.
This book is one in a series of books that chronicles the life of Sweetie Bee.
*** More on the illness for those who are curious. I mention being sick throughout my story, because when a person is really ill, it has a huge impact on their lives. I have an autoimmune disease that has gone undiagnosed and misdiagnosed for most of my life.
After probably seeing a hundred doctors, I was finally diagnosed as having a hybrid autoimmune disease that consists of Rheumatoid Arthritis, Lupus and Sjogren’s. These diseases cause a multitude of issues within my own body. My body considers its own blood/cells/tissues a mortal enemy. It goes into inflammatory mode and my body attacks itself in response to the attack on itself.
It sounds crazy. When I first heard the word immune system, I ignorantly thought it was just a simple part of our bodies that needs vitamins. You take vitamins and botta boom botta bing, everything is fine and dandy.
I knew I had female problems from the age of 12. I knew I had chemical allergies from about that age too, as well as, migraine headaches. I just figured they were three separate issues, because the doctor treated them individually. Which was really he did nothing at all, but tell me to take aspirin and over the counter allergy medicine. The perfume and chemical allergy, solution: wear a mask. The problem? I’m allergic to the chemicals they use to make the masks.
Now that I am a little wiser, I understand truly what an autoimmune disease is, you don’t want to wish it on your worst enemy. It feels like an all-out war going on inside my vessel. My own body attacks my joints, my lungs, my liver, my intestines, my heart, my eyes, my mouth, and my reproductive system. I’ve had surgeries to remove my cervix, part of my fallopian tubes, my teeth, my gallbladder, etc.
The Sjogren’s part is destroying my vision and has made most of my teeth fall out. It’s not a nice thing to have. The other parts, Lupus, RA are destroying my joints, my shoulders, hips, ankles, wrists, fingers, etc. causing permanent destruction and damage.
For years, I didn’t know why so many things were happening to me. Doctors would look at me from the outside and see; what they comment on; a beautiful woman, instead of looking at what’s going on with the inside.
For almost three decades, the medical world unfortunately has not been able to get past the outer core and now (2015) finally they are and I am getting the treatment I need. After how many years? Unfortunately, their procrastination has caused irreversible damage and destruction to my joints and organs.
From the age of 12, I had the full onset of the disease. It starting with my lungs and then my reproductive system and caused extremely painful periods. I would then miss my period for months at a time, sometimes up to six months and then it would start again.
I developed a disease called endometriosis, it came along with my autoimmune disease. I had to miss so much school as a child. With the disease, I would go into remission for about 2-4 weeks and then it would rear its ugly head. I frequently go in and out of remission. As a person ages, the attacks become more frequent, with less of a break in between them. It calls for me to be bedridden for a week or two, then remission again and it repeats. Before I had surgery, it also made sex tremendously painful for me.
I would get kicked out of class frequently by teachers, because I was so allergic to chemical cleaners and perfumes, I would sneeze throughout the class period and it was disruptive. I could not control it and the teachers thought I was being a wisecracker joking with them. It was humiliating to be sitting in the hall or the principal’s office in trouble all the time.
One principal tried to sign me up for drug addiction classes, because my nose itched and ran all the time from exposure to the chemicals/perfumes. The principle refused to believe I wasn’t on cocaine, I was only 14 years-old. I have never taken illegal drugs like cocaine, heroin, etc. However, I took a puff of a joint a couple times in my life, but very little times.
Normally, it is difficult to have children with Endometriosis, that’s why doctors originally didn’t believe I had it. The journey and process has been lengthy. But, God has a plan for all of our lives, I don’t believe that anything happens to us by mistake. It all works together for our good. God is great!
In this story of perseverance in the face of evilness and misfortune, Sweetie Bee recounts years of abuse and living in her car while homeless with her beautiful infant daughter in the dead cold of winter—and how she and her daughter Lillie managed to survive through abandonment and horrific cruelty. Sweetie Bee’s passionately powerful memoir reveals how she endured verbal, physical, and sexual abuse in the shadow of Sandy, her daughter Lillie’s father and how she rose above her past while fighting to keep her daughter alive. Beautifully written and heartbreakingly honest, The Chronicles of Sweetie Bee is an unforgettable reminder that regardless of a person’s past, the American dream is still attainable for those who have the aspiration and willpower to succeed. Sweetie Bee is a fervent advocate for the prevention of domestic violence and abuse.