Keep Going

Eighth Grade

The picture above is Trowa.

When eighth grade came around, I began coming out of my funk for a time. I shared music tastes with a boy in my class. We would spend our study period listening to Hollywood Undead together.

Ah. Trowa Vasquez. Quite an interesting boy if I do say so myself. He was the textbook definition of that weird school shooter type kid on the outside. He wore baggy clothes and dark clothes and had long hair. The thing that really freaked people out was that Trowa was emotionally withdrawn. But he wasn't afraid to talk to anyone. Not by a long haul. In fact, Trowa was on the school's wrestling team and talked to some of the popular kids.  He talked to anyone and everyone. But never about personal things. It was probably the mystery surrounding Trowa that originally drew me to him, if I'm being completely honest.

Eventually, my mother got supervised visitation over me and Maggie. Everything went seamlessly. That is, until that visitation was switched to unsupervised weekends.

It took maybe a month or more before my mother resumed her abusive behaviors. I remember one particular night when it snowed so heavily that the roads were covered and Mom didn't want to take me and my sister back to Dad. I begged her, and she slapped me. I called my father crying, and you know what? He braved the weather. And when we came home, there was a puppy waiting for us.

Nate was a cute dog. He was an off-white color and a wiggly little guy. He was so energetic and chewed on literally everything he could find. I'm serious when I say everything. He once got ahold of a phone.

Maggie and I continued seeing our mother even after she slapped me that day (It's not like we had a choice in the matter). I remember another time when she was taking us to Sam's Club. I told her about Dad moving me and Maggie. We were simply moving across town, but Mom flipped out. She said he had no right. I defended my father, being the total 'Daddy's girl' I am, and got punched for it. And I'm talking punched. She really put some muscle into that one. It bruised, and that sucker stayed for two whole weeks.

Mind you, I was about thirteen at the time, so I didn't have great decision-making skills (Not that I have great decision-making skills even to this day; I've had some royal screw-ups). My response? Jump out of the car and scream for help. Well, that was the half-formulated plan my little brain could come up with. It didn't exactly work in my favor. I forgot to unbuckle myself, so when I opened the car door, I was stuck in my seat, halfway in the car, and halfway out. I screamed for help until some lady came up to me. I told her my mom hit me, and that's when I witnessed the full force of my mother's manipulative powers.

My mother told the woman that I was exaggerating, and I couldn't believe what came next. The woman laughed and said that some kids need a little spanking once in a while. Then she prayed for me right in front of me.

Shortly after that day, my aunt called Child Protective Services on her own sister. I told the nice lady everything my mother did to me, and my mother never once had to answer to a higher power. She suffered no consequences for her actions.

My own mother disowned me later that year. She told me that, in order for her to keep my father out of her life, I needed to be out of her life as well.

My whole life seemed to be falling apart. How was I supposed to continue living? I mean, my mother disowned me, Dad's girlfriend was abusive, and Dad didn't listen to me when I told him anything.

That was the first year that I began seriously contemplating suicide. But I never went through with it because I remembered my sweet little sister and my wonderful best friend. If I left this world, who would help Maggie with homework? And who would Abby have to confide in about school or home troubles?

I was in so much pain during that time. I was looking for something, anything to make me feel better. So maybe that's why I accepted Abby's offer to take me to youth group with her on Wednesdays. Looking back at it, I'm sure that I accepted because I wanted to spend more time with a couple of my best friends after school. I didn't care about my relationship with the Lord at the time.

~Izzy