Well I wrote in part 5 the worst of the worst. During this time I doubt/challenged God as I laid naked stomach down on the ice. Then came the plan.
AGES 15-17:
I knew I needed to escape but I didn't know how yet so I made a plan.
At this time whenever I was locked into the basement with the dogs I was taking care of, I fixed up a work out bench and put weights on it. By fixed up I mean I had to tear it apart every time so no one would ever see I was working out. I worked out everyday several times a day. I didn't know you needed protein and fat in order to build muscle but I worked out nonetheless.
I found Converse shoes that were red and white that might fit me. I tried them on and. . . close enough. I went to work making them shiny and looking like new. They were really dirty. I did my best and after several minutes to an hour they looked brand new. I store my Converse in a 2 gallon Ziploc bag and hid in under some junk.
As part of my plan, I thought I was going to be living alone and knew I needed money. I got an old and very large powdered creamer container which was see through brown. Kinda like a beer bottle but this was plastic and had a wide top to it. I stole money (all loose change) from every where I could. I stole from all my brothers and sisters. My once sister thought I was stealing it when my one brother said, "How is he going to spend it if he never goes anywhere?" That was the best defense I ever got. It was basically a miracle from heaven giving me the go ahead and continue to steal loose change. I always only took half of whatever I found. Wearing a diaper made stealing loose change easy because there was no jingle noise. I would store this container in the heating vents of the furnace that was in the basement being very careful not to make any noise opening and closing and rescrewing it back together again
When all the money was counted, 400+ bucks of loose change and some bills over a 2 year period.
I felt I needed weapons to protect myself. I found a flashlight, batteries, a watch, a swiss army knife, and a survival knife complete with matches, hook, line, flint, and compass.
I found an old backpack to stuff it all in. I knew I needed food as well. I don't know what else I needed but those were the main things I got.
Finally nearly 2 years later, I told God, ''Okay God, I'm ready. Please have her lock me into the closet. Sometimes I was locked in there. Usually at night. If I was locked in there, I could get out ''steal'' food and lock myself back in using both pieces of a curtain rod I broke (on purpose). In order for me to explain how I was able to do it, I'd have to show you. But it was basically a handmade door using metal screening and what I call chicken wire fencing and pieces of 2x4 wood and 1x4 wood. Really a brilliant idea for a handmade screen door. I knew if I was locked in the closet I could escape, lock the door back up making them think I was still inside the dark closet thus giving me more time to run away. this locking back up would give me about maybe 2 more minutes of escape time.
One major problem. They stopped locking me into the closet. It was purely basement for oh I don't remember. Many months! I called out to God again. Pleading with him to have them lock in the closet one more time. Finally he heard my pleas.
July 28th 2002 at about 2pm it was a sunny day and the whole family (her own kids 5 people in total) decided to go to Walmart. She left her bed ridden husband and us 3(used to be 4 but one died) adopted kids at home. I was locked into the closet. I knew they were going to be gone for at least 2 hours. I had to act quickly if I was to get away. I knew the manhunt was going to happen when they found out I was gone.
After hearing the car engine, I waited 5 minutes. I sprang into action. I had ''stolen'' 2 jars of peanut butter months ago because I knew the Great Dane and Rottweiler would kill me if I tried to escape. I opened door. Got out. Locked door. Opened both jars. and went straight to the dogs. They were happy. After that, I went into all bedrooms save the bitch's room where her husband was, and stole all money including some bills I found. Pennies and all. I went downstairs to the kitchen took the can opener and cans of food. I only took cans. Didn't want anything that could spoil within weeks. Plus they needed to fit into backpack. Grabbed a liter bottle of water, Went into basement and grabbed my stashes of things and out the back door I went.
Out back was an ATV/Snowmobile trail that led every which way. I thought I had a better chance going up there and not being seen then walking by the road and having her friends see me. Or worse her. I was finally into the woods going up the trail. This was also a mountainside trail for hunters. Just as I got outside I realized I still had the diaper on. I took it off and buried it under some logs and leaves.
On the trail:
I can't really explain this but I wasn't walking. I felt I was being carried by God. I didn't think at all except when I saw a bear cub. I thought oh how cute a cub. I didn't know where there's a cub there's a momma. That's when I saw her. I knew what to do based on reading a magazine. Back up slowly. Look around for something to protect yourself with. And oh fuck here she comes running towards me! I was near a peak and thought if I could back up enough to where she can't see me no more maybe she'll stop and go back. I asked God one last time to help me through this. He did. Just as I got out of momma's sight she turned around and ran the other way. I dropped the log I picked up. It shattered into thousands of pieces. I said, ''Gee thanks God, You're a funny one aren't you?'' Then again I stopped thinking. I felt nothing. I hear nothing. I was in a daze/trance. I could see my legs and arms moving but I felt neither the ground nor my arms swinging.
The woman that protected me from the evil, sly, and cunning bitch:
I came to a clearing and my thoughts were finally mine again. It was like God set me on the ground again and said, ''Run along now.'' I looked down. I was at the top of a hill looking at green grass and saw a house not to far away. A woman saw and said whatever she said but it was muffled. She was beckoning me to come down. I don't exactly remember what I said to her, but I remember pulling my shirt up and my pants down to just past my tailbone. She saw my lower back was all black and blue and purple from the wooden dowel the bitch beat me with. She wanted proof I was being abused. I also showed her scars all over my arms. She had also adopted a boy who happened to be named James as well. She knew CPS number by heart. It was a weekend (I think Sunday.) So she told me it was going to be hours before anyone showed. We sat in the kitchen and ate and talked. She went and called again. She also called the police.
The Adopted bitch shows up. Oh no! I went into panic mode. Tore everything out of fridge and hid inside, I could hear her. I was freaking out. I could hear them talking. Thankfully after asking me, she would not let that bitch inside. By that time it was dark out. So it was around 9ish. I didn't want to know what was being said. I just didn't want to see nor be seen. She knew how scared I was when I hid inside her fridge. I knew if I saw the bitch I was going back. Then there'd be hell to pay. I may even die that night.
Around 11pm police and ambulance showed up and took me to the hospital in Olean. I went into the locked ward. Meaning you needed a card to get into the ward. It wasn't a prison of any sorts. It was there to be protected from outsiders. I spent 2 weeks there. After many tests and questions from what seemed like every single person in government, I was placed into a foster home.
When I left I weighed 88 pounds (39.91kg) and my height was 4 foot 7 inches (139cm). At 17 years old I looked like a 10 year old. Fast forward one year later, I weighed in at 142lbs (64.41kg) and height was 5'2'' (157cm) tall. It awesome! I was finally being fed real food! I was finally going to school again! I had friends! I had a family! I still had many problems though.
My PTSD and Depression was real, meaning this was real life. I had nightmares nearly every night. I couldn't trust anyone. I still thought that one day Hell was going to break loose and I'd be back to where I started only with a different bitch. Those nightmares felt so real! I also could not have doors closed. Even the bathroom door was wide open. Thankfully I wasn't storing food under my bed. It hurt for many years even after all that was gone it hurt me to see families together and me knowing I didn't know where my family was. It was very hard on me during the holidays.
Now I could go on and on but it's time to close this book and go to bed. Thanks to all one of you that read this and the other blogs. My mental state is pretty strong now. Nightmares have finally vanished. PTSD and Depression are gone. No problems locking doors. haha. Thank God eh? No one wants to be seen nor see anyone popping. If someone does, they should seek medical treatment right away!