This entry is by my daughter. I will post my thoughts at the bottom. The only changes is to names and places.
Many wonder if when you die you go to Hell; some wonder if you can leave it as well. I didn't have to die to go to Hell, and I have left it.
It was May, I was twelve, my brothers were six and three. My grandmother had been doing her usual; pinching my ears and dragging me all over the place. She liked to blame me for things that either she did to make an excuse to hurt me, or things she knew other people did to hurt me. Everything involved either physical, emotional, or both pain.
One morning her husband drove me to school, I was ready to present my planets projects. I had been working on it really hard at the school library. I had been doing really well at science. I had found out I was interested in astrology and astronomy. I desired to be an astronomer. My grandmother told me that I would fail at it. I would fail at everything.
I got to school and walked to my locker. It was empty after my grandmother had arrived at my school and had humiliated me in front of everyone at my school because of my messy locker. I grabbed my English and social stuff, We had been learning about Athens and story writing. Kids sneered at me as I past them. My grandmother had done enough to make me hated at school.
Class passed by without much problems. I gathered my science stuff, ready for my project to be presented. I had studied Uranus as the planet I was interested in. I got to class a few minutes early and sat down in my desk at the front. My eyesight had started to decline and I was places at the front desk.
The presentations went by quickly. Most were five minutes long. Finally all Uranus people were called up. A boy and I went up to the front. I was picked to go first. I handed out my paper to everyone about my planet. I put up the slideshow, a large blue planet with rings going around it was brought up. So I started. My project was at least fifteen minutes long. Most of the students were in shock. I sat down and listened to the rest of the projects, proud that I had succeeded on one thing.
I remember that after we were given a worksheet on the planets. It was fifteen minutes until lunch. My teacher tapped on my shoulder. I turned and saw worry in her eyes. She told me to gather my stuff and put it in my locker. I was needed in the office. I did as she told me and was led to a room with a man and a woman sitting in it on comfy looking chairs.
I sat down and watched them for a moment. The man said something and we had small talk. A few minutes later they looked at me and told me that I was being removed from my grandmother's house. I was shocked. I asked what happened. They said that they had evidence that my grandmother was abusing me. I asked them if they had already picked up my brothers. My youngest brother yes. My other brother was still at school. I said that they could tell me the details later. I wanted to see my brothers without my grandmother separating us.
I was taken over to the elementary school, we sat in the lobby. Memories of being in elementary school arrived like a tsunami. I wanted to see my brother mom. The principal walked to us with my brother beside him. I got up and ran to hug my little brother. I hated that I was finally allowed to hug him when we had been removed. We went to the Children's Services Office. Our social worker was standing there.
Our social worker explained that we were being removed from my grandmother. My youngest brother played with some toys. I listened to everything he had to explain. I had always hated him. He twisted everything. Finally he left to get lunch, McDonalds in fact. I read to my brothers while waiting to have a bite to eat.
Finally he returned and I filled up on lunch. I had been eating very little with my grandmother making me eat no dinner. We got in a car and were driven to a smaller town. A woman stood in the front of her house, the very house we were going to. She looked old and walked with a cane. We unloaded all of our stuff, including my garbage bag of few clothes and one blanket.
Her house was large and very clean. there were two girls already living there. She had a fancy cat three and a female white cat. I was shown into the guest bedroom. They had a large trampoline, a quiet basement and a twin bedroom that my brothers would be sharing.
The woman went into the kitchen with the people who dropped me off. In a few minutes I was called into the kitchen. Little did I know that I would be experiencing the worst thing ever to happen to me.
I sat down at the table and listened. They told me that they were going to separate me from my brothers, that another family was going to take me. I felt like a possession, an item sold and bought by many owners. I argued and told them that I had to be there for my brothers, that they needed me. They wouldn't listen.
The next day I gathered what little things I had and put them in the vehicle that was there to take me to the foster home I live at now. I turned to my younger brother and told him that I was going away for a while, but that I would be back. My youngest brother cried as I hugged them both. I sat in the car and watched as I was driven to the new family.
I remember that the new family had to pick up their son and daughter. I needed to get a frame I had forgotten. AS I left for a second time I asked how long my youngest brother had been crying. They told me the whole time and he hadn't stopped. My younger brother had a glassy dead look in his eyes.
That was the day I was permanently removed from my grandmother and my brothers.
When she read this too me I was so angry. This happened only a few months after the trial where the judge had said it was bad for their mental health to be removed from my mother. Which is because he would not allow my witnesses to testify to what was actually happening in that home. If he had he might have seen the horrors this woman was doing to my children. But instead of finally being able to be saved from her grandmothers abuse, children services continues the mental abuse with keeping her separated from her brothers. If they had just told me that they were taking the kids from her and that they had screwed up royally and given me my children back so much pain could have been stopped from happening. But no. They had to continue covering their screw up making my children suffer for more years to come. My children need to be reunited. My sons need to come home where there sister will be permanently in a few more months.
Return To Map Of The Blog Page
No comments:
Post a Comment