sexybeast

I have very faded and vague memories of being a child. I know I was very happy and loving. I loved my mother and brothers... At that point in time, I even loved my father. Ignorance is bliss and nothing is better than having the ignorance of a child.

I don't have any memories of my mother and father together, except a few vague ones of them fighting. I don't have any memories of them married. I remember Ricky, my father, showing up at my grandma's house with a Big Wheel for me, I think it was a birthday. I believe that is my happiest memory of him. My worst memory is on my fifth birthday. I walked into the kitchen to ask him where Jobie, my oldest brother, was at. He yelled at me for coming into the kitchen while he was decorating my birthday cake, it was supposed to be a surprise. I don't really know the order of things or how things happened. When I was five, he showed up at my mom's, while my mom was at work, and took us to his house. They fought, not physically, the cops were called and we went back to our mom's house. Shortly after that, we moved and he didn't get the address. I saw him a few times after that and even visited him once. Eventually, I realized he wasn't much of a father and I've only talked to him on the phone a few times since.

My mom, being a single mother with three kids, worked all the time. While she was at work, which seemed like all the time, Jobie was stuck watching us. Jobie is about six years older than me. He was old enough to remember Ricky. From what I understand, he was also old enough to get beat up by Ricky. Jobie became a bitter person, with anger problems. He took it out on his younger brothers, mostly me. I don't think Jobie got abusive until I was almost seven.

I was still a happy kid. I would hang out with my brother Brandon, who is less that two years older than me, and play with the other kids in the neighborhood. Brandon would get annoyed a lot of the time because he didn't what his little brother following him around all the time.

So, I also ended up spending time by myself. I loved climbing trees, climbing on other stuff, riding bikes, playing in the rain... I think anything outside. I remember spending time sitting under bushes in the rain. I loved it. I was a tiny kid and could fit in small places, so if I could fit somewhere, I would go there. I think I'm remembering when I was about six years old, living in the third home that I have memories of.

We moved and life got a lot worse, but I was still a happy kid. I was in first grade. I always seemed to miss out on activities and I was always stuck inside during lunch doing homework from the night before. After school, I would get home and Jobie was there as the person in charge. I don't remember why he would get so angry or how often, but it seems like it was most of the time. I think I spent a lot of time playing outside. I followed Brandon around some, but, I think, a lot of the time it was us playing and doing stuff together, not just me following him around. I don't remember dinner at the end of the day. I do remember Jobie being angry, probably hitting me, then me going to bed wishing and praying for my father to be there.

Eventually, around eight years old, I found a father figure. He was almost thirty, jobless, lived with his parents, told dirty jokes and was nice to me and Brandon. That didn't turn out very well. I think I was in fifth grade when he beat me up and made me start calling me dad, might of been the same time he may me say that I loved him. The abuse started before that and lasted until I was 16. My mom let me go over there almost every weekend. I was still a happy kid, when I wasn't being abused.

to be continued...