His Playground

Hello, my name is Lainey Caster I am 21 years old and this is the story of every mans playground. It all began when I was 7 years old, spending the summer with my grandmother Pinnula in a small, boring town called "The Plains", that hardly anyone knew about just west of Texas, with a population of what felt like 'Nobody'. Anyways, the only reason I was there for the summer is because my brother Zander and my sister Chloe had to go visit their dad for the summer, because him and my mom weren't together anymore, he wasn't exactly the best boyfriend or dad in that matter at the time. Probably wondering why I didn't just go spend the summer with my dad or stay with my mom. Well, the answer to your question is...I don't have a damn dad because like all these other Lying, scheming, manipulative and lowlife men...my dad was the mother fucking CEO of that shit. He was spending a small part of his miserable life behind bars that I am way too embarrassed to even talk about simply for the sole fact that I carry his last name, and I can't grasp the fact that he and I are even related so, maybe one day I'll grow enough courage to speak up about why I am so disgusted about him being my dad and why he is behind bars, and I didn't stay with my mom that summer and many other summers, because she thought that I needed to get away. I personally think she felt bad for me all those years watching my brother and sister have the option and eagerness to actually have a dad, meanwhile the only options I had were my mom and a grandmother who isn't even blood related, she is my siblings real grandma on their dads side.

It did suck at times knowing the only person who truly wanted me and cared for me deeply was my mom and my great grandpa whom also isn't blood related, he is pinnula's dad. He is the only man who has never made me feel uncomfortable or unloved, he and I both knew I there was no same blood running through our veins, but oh how I wish there was. He is the only reason I know today, that not all men are the same. Then again, men aren't built that way anymore. I would beg my grandmother to go to his house, even though I knew it didn't hold any child's idea of fun... to me it was pure bliss, we would eat bologna sandwiches, walk next door to the old house next to his that was full of dust, spiderwebs, and probably mold, but I didn't complain, because it was like a second home to me being with him. My Po was and still is everything to me, even though he was a little old he still made sure that this little girl who had nobody, but her mom and a grandma who shoved the bible in her face 24/7, had the best summers he could possibly give her, but sadly that story ended in the year 2007, all thanks to a man named Thomas who took not only my second home from me and the love and memories I held for that place, but the trust I had for men in general and a little girls innocents...that day, that summer I can never get back...my safe place, my home, my playground... all became his the moment he locked me in that little, old house with him and had his way... somedays when I think about it, because I can't  get it out of my head how a grown, old man can do such things to a child, his smell will rush back to me, and oh god does it send chills, the smell of dirt, sweat and oil. The anxiety attacks I get, because I can still feel him on me, like dried up paint that you just can't get off...that man ruined who I am as a person, as a child. The way he played It off like nothing ever happened...It seemed that this was just a game for him and I was the Playground. 

I still remember everything like it happened yesterday, I remember laying there until I felt like I had enough strength to lift my limp body, like I was already dead... I remember dragging my legs up off the ground just to stand on my own two feet again, having to slowly pull my underwear and shorts up with numb arms, because I had just fought for what felt like hours...to take a step to the door and open it felt like I was learning how to walk all over again, when I finally did get ahold of my legs, I felt this pain that I wish to never feel again...this pain of defeat...the pain of fear...the pain of my body no longer feeling like my body...all I know is, I hurt... I hurt real bad and I now knew where the source of the pain was coming from, every step burned me so bad, at that moment...I would have rather been dead. 

I finally made it inside, what would have been 50 steps on a normal day was 1000 to me that day. The first person I made it to was my non- blood related aunt Nay and she had asked me what was wrong and before I said anything I had a feeling of justice, but none came. I whispered to her what happened and the words that poured from her mouth felt like knives in my ears...she leaned down and whispered "How dare you say that! I watched you the whole time Lainey, you wanted it". She sat back up, shook her head at me in disappointment and walked away. I wasn't going to say nothing else to anybody, but my momma when I went back home at the end of summer, so I stepped outside and began to cry not realizing my grandma was sitting out there and suddenly I heard "What's wrong my love", I look to the left of me and there she is sitting in some beat up, old stained, yellow, outdoor couch, smoking her long, white cigarettes'. I felt confident enough to speak up and tell her, and I was willing to put up a fight if need me, even if that meant she called my mom, at least I would get to go home. After I told her what I just went through, she choked on the smoke of her cigarette, stopped playing her little game 'Bejeweled', and jumped up. I was expecting so much like for her to run in the house, yell at my aunt, tell my Po and Granny, call the cops or mom...but all I got was a jaw dropping look for what felt like forever and then suddenly and soft hug... she grabbed me by the hand and walked me to her car and told me to wait. I waited and waited and cried and cried and thought of all the ways I was going to have to explain to my mom on how none of this was my fault. She finally came out with a sandwich my Po made me, that I never got to eat...and to be honest I still didn't eat. We finally got back to her place and she told me to wait inside while she calls mom and explains everything, I felt disgusting and empty...I felt like I was tired of waiting on things, I just wanted the day- Hell the summer to end... I wanted my mom!

I don't know what time it was when she finished her phone call(s) , but what I do know is I was so scared to go to sleep, because I didn't want to miss the chance of getting to talk to my mom and I thought she would have came inside and gave me a chance to talk to her, but the only thing she came in with was "your mom is very upset Lainey and does not want to hear or speak anymore of this, she said she loves you and goodnight"...WHY?!! why does everyone treat me like a burden? why does my mom suddenly hate me? why won't anyone listen to me? is what I thought to myself the entire night and rest of the summer, Hell it's what I thought all the way up until age 18 when I finally, brought it up to my mom on the way home from town...just to find out she knew absolutely nothing about it...My mom knew nothing...I never ever said anything ever again about it to anyone after that summer, because it was drilled into my head that I will hurt, upset or make my mom cry and disappoint people and I never wanted to see my mom cry, let alone be the reason she's hurting...so I kept my mouth shut, just to find out my poor mom never knew what happened to her baby on the summer of 2007 all thanks to a grandma who cared more about getting her rocks off than a child who was a victim of sexual assault, and rape. P.S. Go fuck yourself Bitch! 

                                                          -Jaidian Mancias 

Parents, watch out who you send your kids to for the summer or vacation, watch out who they are around period. Not everyone has your child in their best interest. Somebody is always going play games, whether that be family or not.