was paying him since he saw this as a fair trade. Sad part was Max would have to go back at the end of the summer.
July was calm and beautiful. I had met a ton of people and made a bunch of friends. We spent every spare second we had at the beach. This whole freedom thing was new to me. I came and went as I pleased as long as I respected curfew. I had no use for drugs or alcohol after the failed suicide attempt. Therefore, mom and Daniel had nothing really to worry.
The “tomboy” in me came out loud and clear that summer. I wore nothing but bikini tops and oversized jean shorts. Mom and I were just about the same size so I shopped in her closet if I ever needed to wear anything with a little more tact. She dressed very young so style wasn't an issue. Either.
As perfect, as everything seemed I was still a hot mess on the inside. My everyday anger seemed to have subsided quite a bit. It wasn't the anger itself I was worried about. It was the constant rage I couldn't control. Anger made me hateful. But the rage, that only the strong survive, Dad taught us made me violent. I had to fight for everything growing up and I couldn't figure out how to reprogram my brain into believing that it was over and I didn't have to live that way anymore. This was by far the hardest adjustment for me.
My mother's house was the exact opposite of everything I had ever known. I had become so defensive every time she said anything to me; I snapped at her and attacked her verbally. “Talking” about your feelings was unheard of at my dad's. To him, it was a sign of weakness to even have feelings at all. Being passive was a weakness to me and I let my mother hear those words a million times. I never let her in emotionally because I didn't want her to think I was weak. My head still told me it was unacceptable. I envied her for being everything I wished I were. My father stripped me of that.
Mom wasn't real affectionate which was fine with me. I wouldn't have known how to return it anyway. Family meals were a little tense. I had nothing to say, and they had nothing to ask. The silence may have been a little awkward but it was nice not to have the yelling and screaming I experienced at dads. Occasionally mom would bring up counseling which resulted in me dropping my fork and leaving the table. Clearly, I needed to talk to someone but I couldn't get past my father's words of, “Counseling is for the weak and quitters that can't handle their own shit.” I was still afraid of him 20 states away.
My bedroom was perfect. I enjoyed the shadows passing cars left dancing on my walls. My room was shaped like an attic so the shadows made the most beautiful shapes. I still cried on occasion when I watched them. Only this time I cried because I was happy and no longer envious of where the cars were going because I could actually be in one of those cars at any time. I knew that this is where I belonged. This was my life and I loved it. I reminded myself constantly that not everyone gets a second chance at life. I felt blessed. God had answered my prayers. My prayers were now for my baby sister. I begged the Lord to show mercy on her and to keep her innocence sacred. I couldn't live with myself if I ever found out that my moving away affected her safety.
….Lord God keep her safe….
Inferno
The fire inside me flows through my whole body
Torn between living and dying
I'm so sick of fucking crying
Dear God what have you done
How could this be
That my innocent childhood could be taken from me
I'm supposed to be swimming and playing
Not wiping blood from my knees
It's burning inside
So dark I can't see
I'm reaching and screaming
Dear God please save me
If this is reality what will I come to be
This is my fortune
I have no future to see
God carried me through this
And helped me accept
That I had died
BEFORE life was given to me
CHAPTER 4
Losing Me
I had spent the entire summer with the same three girls, Misty, Jamie, and Rachael. The four of us attended the same high school in the fall. My mother was a teacher there as well. I did what I could to paint the pretty picture of the daughter I was expected to be.
Max had no choice but to go back to Colorado just before school started. I felt horrible about it. I knew he would catch hell twice as bad now since I was gone. There was nothing I could do to prepare myself to be an only child. He should have stayed. Not only for his safety, but my sanity as well. I was afraid of being without him, afraid of being alone.
The first day of school was insane; a complete culture shock. The only ethnic backgrounds in Colorado were Whites and Hispanics. Occasionally, we would get a black kid here or there, but this, here and now was the exact opposite of everything I knew. I was the minority. Everyone else around me was either black or white. Now I know how the black kids in Colorado must have felt. The only other Hispanics in the school was a girl named, Leanna and her little brother. Three of us in the entire school. I was extremely intimidated and wasn’t sure how they felt about me either.
There was beautiful smooth black skin everywhere I turned. The most cut athletic bodies I had ever seen. This was nothing like Colorado. And I wanted a piece of every one of them. If they weren't playing sports, they were singing. I was in heaven.
I guess I never realized how badly I yearned for the touch of a man. I had had sex before, but this feeling was different. These boys had lived at a beach their entire lives and it showed. They were proud of how they looked. Their confidence was what finally reeled me in. They had a roughness about them that the spoiled rich white kids in Colorado didn't have. These boys were flawless on the outside and rough out the inside.
On more than one occasion, I thought for sure my heart would explode from the look of lust behind their deep brown eyes. I had been numb and heartless for so long that the thought of intimacy made my stomach queasy. Passion in their eyes and the desperate need to be touched and loved poured from their fingertips. I was very dominant so I had the power to bring it out of them. This was one thing I had; control of being sexually desirable.
Marcus, Quinton, and Ron. The only three I continuously went back to, especially Marcus. It was because he was nothing like others I was used to or rose up. He didn't play sports. He was skinny and lanky and dressed like a hobo, but that didn't keep me from exploding inside out when he touched me. Just the beat of his heart alone melted the block of ice that replaced my soul years ago. His fingers were long and gentle. My body was tiny so those big hands covered every inch that begged for his touch.
I would watch the expressions on his face change as Marcus would undress me. He would blink slowly and bite his bottom lip as he removed my last article of clothing.
Marcus gave me the same look all the time. It was a look of love and admiration. He knew nothing of my past and never judged me on my present behaviors. It never mattered to him who had been with me before. All he cared about was us being together.
Marcus was sweet and passionate. Intimacy with him was my ecstasy. He lay gently on top of me cradling my head in his hands. He pressed his chest against mine and kissed me so gently. I exhaled slowly as he entered my soft young body. No one had ever made me feel so feminine and pristine. He took long slow strokes and for the first time ever, I wasn't thinking about my tainted body or the prior invasions of my private parts. My heart was pounding for no one other than him.
Imminent, I made sure I was always home by curfew. The journey up the long walkway was more of a glide that night. I stepped in the house and cut off the porch light. This was my mom's cue that I was home and safe. Her bedroom window faced the front of the house and I was to cut the light out so she knew I was there.
My