I Know You Can't Speak

1996:

I walked in the house and saw my mom sitting on the couch. She had her feet on the coffee table with a cigarette in her mouth, on the phone. With tears in my eyes I walked up the steps and seconds later my mom called my name. "Jasmine get your stanking ass down here right now!" My mom spat at me. I had just walked home from school alone because my mom didn't come pick me up. I told them I was getting on the school bus but I walked the long way home just to find her sitting on the couch like she had forgotten all about me. I walked down the steps to where she was standing at the bottom waiting for me.

"Yes mom?" I asked her.

"Ain't no yes mom shit! Didn't I tell you to clean these God damn toys up?" She asked me menacingly. I had left a few toys downstairs the night before so I didn't answer her as I walked over to my toys and began to put them away the best way I knew how. She was complaining about my toys as if the rest of the house was clean. The stench in the house was enough to make a homeless person turn down living with us. We had flies in the wintertime and for some reason, I got "mosquito" bites while I was sleep. The living room was filled with beer cans and bottles. The kitchen was piled with bags of trash that had maggots coming out of them and the sink always was stacked with dirty dishes and roaches. The bathroom was worse as the tub had a ring that lined it as did the toilet. The sink and counter was filled with my moms make up, wigs and accessories that she thought made her look pretty. She was pretty on the outside but on the inside she was a terrible person. I was only 6 but my mom treated me as if I was old enough to do anything on my own.

"Mom why didn't you come pick me up from school?" I asked her.

"I didn't have time to pick ya ass up I had shit to do. Now take all that shit in your room and when you done, come back down here and clean this trash up for me" she told me. I didn't want to but I obeyed anyway and when I was done she didn't even thank me. "Now go back in ya room and stay there til I say otherwise! Matta fact ya brother and sister should be home soon. I'm having company and I don't need you in our way!" she snapped at me. I knew what "company" meant. Every different day of the week there was a different mans face rotating in and out of our house. I had a 15 year old sister and a 12 year old brother and half the time they were never home so that left me to be on my lonesome most times. I went in my room and closed the door before I let a tear trickle down my face. Why did my mom treat me so mean? I just wanted to be a regular kid. I wanted to watch cartoons and play outside with my friends and go to school with my friends and be happy. I couldn't watch cartoons because we didn't have cable. My mom spent all the money she made on her men and barely did anything for me, my brother or my sister. I couldn't play outside because my mom never let me outside for fear of someone knowing how we lived. I hated school. Everyone dressed nice and my mom made me go to school in high water pants and too small shirts. Sometimes my feet hurt in my sneakers too. I got laughed at because my hair was never done. I was jealous of how happy everyone else in my class was. I would see their parents pick them up daily and show them all types of affectionate love. I hated how my mom treated me. I hated how unloved I felt. I often wished that I could trade places with someone else whose mom loved them. I pulled out this little journal that I had gotten for my 6th birthday. It was had all these pretty colors on it with flowers and unicorns and sparkly glitter that came down. I didn't know how to write in complete sentences or spell most of the things I was trying to say but in that book was where I expressed every way I felt. I made sure I locked it up for fear of someone reading it. That journal held my deepest darkest secret and nobody could know about it.

My mom had her company and my sister and brother didn't come home until it was time for bed. They must have hated being home just as much as me. I couldn't wait until I got older so I could leave too. My door opened and my sister Deja walked in the room that we shared together. My sister made me happy. Every time she came home she paid me attention. She did things my mom never did for me and made me feel better without even knowing it.

"Hey Deja!" I said excitedly as she walked over to her bed.

"Hey Jas. You been in here all day?" She asked me as she sat down and took her shoes off. My sister was really pretty. Her looks resembled my moms. Thank God her attitude didn't though. Smooth brown skin and nice shoulder length hair. She dressed nice because her dad and stepmom took care of her. I wished I had her dad because my dad was nowhere to be found. Deja always said she wanted to live with them but didn't want to leave me.

"Yeah. Mommy said I can't come out of the room" I told her dry snitching.

"Well did you eat? And who picked you up from school?" She asked me with her face frowned up. I shook my head no and told her that I walked home alone as she pulled my arm and tugged me down the steps behind her.

"Mom how you just gonna make her stay in the room and don't feed her! And why would you make her walk home alone like it's not all types of kidnappers out here!" She snapped at my mom. My mom ignored her as she continued entertaining the 3rd man that week.

"Say hi to Mister Troy" my mom said to us referring to the man whose lap she was sitting on. Mister Troy looked like a creep as he started Deja up and down licking his lips. Deja rolled her eyes as we went into the kitchen and she made me some leftover chicken, corn and cornbread.

"This is disgusting" she said looking at the sink full of dishes as she began to wash them while I ate before we made our way back upstairs. She cleaned the tub before making me get in it and then did my hair nicely for school the next day. She was more of a mother figure to me than my mom was. She tucked me in bed before getting herself ready for bed.

"Goodnight Jas" she told me as she turned the light off and climbed in bed.

"Goodnight Deja. Thanks for being nice to me" I told her.

"You don't have to thank me. I'm your big sister I'm going to always make sure you're okay." She said as she climbed back out of bed and came to kiss me on my forehead. "I'll take you to school tomorrow and pick you up okay?" She said to me as she climbed back in bed. Within minutes she was sleep and I laid awoke praying that I did have a goodnight. But I didn't.

The clock read 3:35am when I felt someone's hands underneath my covers. I popped my eyes open in fear and in my bed was my brother. This had been his routine for months since I had turned 6. I looked at him as he held his hand up for me to be quiet and then he pointed at Deja sleeping. He put his hand up my pajama dress and inside my panties and I lay there crying silent tears as he touched me inappropriately. He made me put my hand on his the thing growing between his legs and I flinched every time I felt it jump. When he was done he whispered in my ear "I can't wait until the next time Deja isn't home, I want you to feel it" before he rolled out of my bed, and walked out of our room closing the door quietly. I cried in my pillow so I wouldn't wake Deja. I knew what he did to me was wrong but I was so scared to tell. I was even more scared after what he had just said to me because I didn't even know what "feel it" meant. I told myself, if I ever had kids I would never treat them the way my mom treated me and I would never let anyone hurt them the way my brother was hurting me.