19

In hopes of remembering the past, I have opened boxes of pain. I have traveled backward and ignited a fire that had been smothered for years. The things which have plagued my mind are many and heavy. I have found normalacy in forgetting these memories for so long but something keeps poking at my brain, telling me that the only way home is through the dark woods of my past. So I continue with my scars.

1983

I was entering the third grade by this time and developing little odd habits. I would scratch my skin sometimes until it turned red and then rub that same spot. I only stopped this redundancy when the skin was so inflamed that it burned. I would then feel comfortable in my surroundings. Anytime that I felt nervous I did this strange habit to calm myself. I had other such habits including gripping my hands toghether tightly, twisting my hair and rubbing my thighs. I only felt calm by practicing these things in preperation for the days events.
The children seemed so much different that I did when looking through my eyes. They were loud and mean and neve played fair. It was hard to make friends and I never made good first impressions anyway. I usually ended up playing by myself on the playground and fantasizing about all sorts of different things.

I loved my teacher, that was one thing that I could say was positive. Mrs. Debbie was so nice to me and she never treated me differently just because the other kids shunned me. She often let me help her hand out papers and do other odds and ends in the classroom. I even got to meet her daughter once and play with her--her name was was Carmen. I remember Carmen as having the most beautiful hazel brown eyes and she was so spoiled. Mrs. Debbie often let Carmen stand with the cheerleaders at the basketball games and pretend that she was a part of the troup. Carmen had her own little cheerleading outfit and pompoms. I remember how jealous I was when I went to one of the games with daddy. I wanted to be a cheerleader but I knew that was only for the popular kids.

Of course my father drove the school bus and I rode it to school everyday. I still saw Cami on a pretty regular basis and she even rode the same bus. Me, Cami and her brother would love to play in the school bus while it was parked at my house. We would jump from seat to seat and try to grab each other, falling down into the seat and play fighting. Cami always hesitated before fighting too hard with me. She was never really the same after I stood up to her. But back to the subject I have claimed here... My father hated for us to play in the bus because we left footprints on the bus seats and he told us to stop playing in there. One day he caught us and whipped us with a switch. He striped my legs really good and stayed mad all day about the situation. I never understood why he got so angry but I cannot forget how hard he combed my hair before school that day. He simply pulled the brush through my hair without picking out the tangles and yelled at me if I moved.

 I hated it when he combed my hair. I hated it when he ran my bath water too. He would run the water so hot that I couldn't stand to get in. And if I screamed he would whip me and shove me in the water anyway. Most of the time, moma would run my water but on those rare occasions that she was very sick or working, my father made sure that we doing everything his way. We were whipped with something if we did not do exactly as he said at all times. I hated to hear him coming to spank me or beat my ass because he would make his belt leather pop together as he come for me. It terrified me.

I wanted to feel safe somewhere and places and opportunities were limited. I took more and more walks into the forest to get away from the abuse that surrounded me, the torment, the bullying and the rejection. I would start my walk on the little dirt road and then when I knew no one was watching me, I would dart into the trees on one side or the other. As soon as the forest canopy exploded over my head, I knew I was free. I inhaled the air, lifted my arms and let the breeze pass by me. I loved it here, where no one could hurt me, where everything was beautiful and peaceful. I climbed a tree most often than not and i would look over the land. I watched stray dogs and cats playing and fighitng. I saw my father's store building and some days I saw the various customers talking in the parking lot or getting gas. I saw my brother sitting on the porch looking around. I saw the grass, the trees, the birds and then I looked up and saw the heavens. I breathed it all in and then climbed down. I walked further into the woods and ate berries, clovers and chewed pine needles. I went past thick rabbit bush and then back out into feilds. I wandered so far and then sat down to rest. I heard a strange creaking noise from somewhere and finally realized that the wood in the trees was actually shifting and creaking as the trees bent. I was fascinated. I hear deer snort in the distance, animals playing in the brush. Why oh why should I ever leave here, it was heaven on earth to me. I saw a bird land very near to where I was resting. I stayed still and watched the little creature stick its head under its wing and stretch. The wing spread outward and fluttered dramatically. I smiled. To have wings, to fly; now that is true freedom.

Very faintly, very soft...I heard the first giggle.

I remember the voice coming very near to my ear and it sounded sweet. I didn't think it was death because death did not have a sweet soft voice. It sounded different but of course death was mischevious and he could be fooling me. I listened again and thought I could make out the words on the breeze. The voices grew louder and louder and I heard giggles. I turned to and fro looking for the source of the voice. I thought that maybe some of my younger cousins had found my hiding place. I stood and the voices spun round me making me shiver. wrapped my arms around myself and squeezed.

"Who are you?" I said in desperation and curiosity. I waited and waited to hear a reply but at first there was nothing. I walked around searching with my eyes, the perimeter of the tree line. I was just a tad frightened by the situation but still wanting to know what was happening.

"I mean it! Who are you? Where are you?"



The voice giggled and whispered..."I walk with the Spirits...dark fae."

I felt its hand in my left hand. I felt its fingers curl around mine and squeeze. It was if another person was trying to hold my hand.

I awoke with laboring breath. I looked around frantically for the source of my dream. There was nothing. I heard moma calling me home.