Seclusion – (4)
For all of those following me along in my journey through life, I left off with my mom going home with the bartender (A blonde walks into a Bar post). We’ll just call him John. Now my mom had already been introduced to smoking weed by my dad and his friends but this was a whole new experience. She quickly moved in with John taking me with her. He was extremely aggressive and didn’t hide who he was to anyone, including my mom’s family, and they were all worried about where this looked like it was headed. Although, it ended up much worse than any of them imagined.
My mom’s life quickly became John and everything John related, which included the drugs-distribution- and the bar. The drugs were kept in our apartment, which was no place for any adult – let alone a kid. She never cleaned or cooked and was now high most of the time. Did I mention she was pregnant again? Yes, reckless and without care she became pregnant while using drugs and helping to distribute them. My dad had now made arrangements for visitation and would pick me up on Saturdays to spend the day at the park with me. Now two years old, I honestly have little memories of swinging on the swings at the park. I can’t figure out whether I actually recall this or if its a memory planted by the stories I’ve been told. In any case, John had become extremely violent by this time and it was common for mom’s eyes to be swollen shut and for her to be covered in bruises. I wasn’t any exception to this violence but it was better hidden on my body. My dad would come to pick me up for our trip to the park and my mom would talk to him through a darkened screen door. he knew something was up and had heard horrible things about John but didn’t know exactly what to think. My mom stopped seeing my grandparents quite a while ago and wouldn’t return anyone’s phone calls. They had stopped by randomly to see see her but she would never let them in and would only talk through this dark screen of hers. They knew she was pregnant but didn’t know how far along or when she was due.
One Saturday, my dad came to pick me up and I was quickly ushered out the screen door. The door was slammed behind me without a hello-good bye- kiss my ass or anything. My dad took me to the local park like he did every Saturday. I remember this day, or at least I think I do, and can still feel the wind in my hair as my dad pushes me on the swings. Then I flinched in pain and my dad stopped pushing. He stood there for a moment not sure what to do. Slowly he lifted the back of my shirt and saw that my back was covered in welts and an imprint of a man’s belt buckle. Packing me back up in the car, he sped back to my mom and John’s house while taking his knife out of the glove compartment. He burst through the front door with out knocking and found John laying on the couch. He put the knife to John’s neck and threatened to kill him if he ever touched me again. John laughed at him knowing he wouldn’t do anything more than threaten. Looking around the room he noticed the drugs layed out on the coffee table, cocaine was their drug of choice. He saw the disgusting state the house was in, ridden with drugs and moldy dishes. My mom was slumped over in the corner of the room, not truly aware of what was going on. My dad decided at that moment he would have to fight for custody of me.
But he left me there, with them.