When I was in Mississippi for visitation I was asleep & I had just woken up. I suddenly had to use the restroom.
Well I couldn't. I was always shoved & locked in a room with a baby gate. That was where i stayed, imprisond all weekend.
My little sister, Victoria, was used to it though. She didn't mind. She always pooped & peed on herself & never ate. She thought of it as normal life.
My so called "Mother", Kristy didn't care about us. She just stood outside of the apartment with some guys & smoked pot & drank alcohol. This was all time, twenty four seven.
I remember peering down the hallway, searching for hope of life. Looking for someone, or something. There was nothing, just a cold, dark feeling lingering over me.
The memory escapes me now but I finally escaped the the jail cell & opened the front door.
It was stupendous. I could finally feel light & fresh air in what felt like a century.
Then I went searching for my mom, but found nothing. I only found a woman that claims me to be her offspring & forces me to go to this hell hole.
Still searching for a mother figure, I suddenly become covered in darkness. A beast has shoved me back in the apartment & stole the rest of my rememberance of this memory.
You're probably thinking that the nightmare is over. That's where you're wrong.
Kristy never fed us. She never had food. She just left us to starve.
I would cry at night because of the unbearable hunger. All she would tell me is, "I don't have any food!" or "shut up and stop crying!" or "you're not that hungry!" It was pure torture.
Each visit became worse & worse each time.
Any time I would cry to come home, she would yell at me and say, "shut up, and stop being such a baby. You'll go home when your visitation with me is over!" But I was a baby. Where was that wonderful, caring, loving, and responsible parent she claims to be now?
Like I said, Kristy never cared about us. She just did what she wanted to do. She just partied all the time without a care. Not even thinking about the fact that she has two children.
Do you remember about me saying that I have asthma & seven holes in my heart? Well I had heart medicine, & I had a breathing mechine that I needed to be treated with many times a day. She never treated me with it. Sometimes she would end up giving me the wrong medicine. All the time I would be fighting for air.
As a baby I didn't understand why my Momma (Reneé in texas) in Texas was making me come here. She would tell me that it wasn't her that was making me go, but she was the one to take me over there.
Now I know that it is the court, but I didnt know that. I was confused and just wanted to stay in Texas, at home with my Momma.
The reason why I call Reneé, "Momma" is because she's the one who has raised me. The one who was always there. The one who took me to the docter. Who rocked me when I was sick. Who tended to my wounds. She is who I should call mother, not Kristy.
When I finally came home, I felt relieved. I could feel clean for once. At Kristy's house, it is disgusting. There is dirt all over the place. There is food crumbs and the food itself all over the floor and on the counter tops rotting away. It is just pure filth. You can't even walk across the hallway without your feet turning into crusty, black rocks. Not to mention the roaches running around and crawling amongst your feet.
At my house, it's very clean. The counter tops glimmer from the sunlight peering from the kitchen windows. The carpets are soft to the touch, and the hard floors allow you to slip and slide. The house itself is a giant soap bar, unlike Kristy's house.
When I finally became settled back into the house, I would feel normal again, but I would allways wonder when my next visit to hell would be.
I would repeatedly ask my Momma, "When do I have to go back? Do I have to go tomorrow? Why do you make me go?" My Momma would just say, "You don't have to go back for a while..." I still wondered why I had to go, and why she made me go. If she wasn't making me then why was she taking me.
Every time the same answer, "It's not me that's making you go." That was the only answer I ever got. As a three year old, I didnt get what court and visitation was. From a child's point of view, there was some major confusion in the situation.
I still had the same question ticking in the back of my head continuously. Why?
