No choice in the Matter

chapter 2

So, here I am once again back in foster care. Now back then I was a child, I couldn’t comprehend exactly what was going on. I had social workers, officers, therapists, judges etc... all these different people questioning me and theorizing my situation. To be that young and not knowing the depths of my own circumstances made me guarded and mad. The child that the Johnsons once knew and cared for was no more. I came back changed, I was hurt, scared and confused. I would soon be labeled a problem child. By the time I went back to them, I was not that sweet little girl they once knew who they had cared for about a 1 1/2 years ago. I came back with bigger problems. I would create havoc every chance I had. Looking back I wasn’t the best child, I was difficult. I was either a fighter or a runner.

I remember the very first time sitting in this small room, one side had used toys neatly arranged and the other side had these dolls. I was told that the dolls were used to help communicate or act out situations that were uncomfortable for me to talk about. I’m like okay I’m not interested. Eventually, this lady came in alone and she sat down and began asking me if she could ask me some questions.. sure I said.

First question: do you know why your here? Yes, I’m here because they hurt me. Second question: Who is they? I said Sheena, her boyfriend and Netty. She was soo confused. See this wasn’t the first time I was in the system, I was just there because of the previous abuse I had endured prior to Netty.

This would be the second time that I was taken from my mom due to abuse and neglect. So she asked more questions. The next question was; who is Sheena and her boyfriend and how did they hurt you? I was 5 1/2 years old and my mom had left us with this lady named Sheena and her boyfriend, who had burnt my fingers on the stove. She looked at my fingers in disbelief and she noticed that my middle finger and the finger next to my pinky were both hard, bubbled up and discolored. Next thing I know a detective and a lawyer came in the room, and confirmed that I was sitting in that exact chair 3 1/2 years ago when I was (5yrs old). I came in with 2nd degree burns to 2 of my fingers on my left hand. Her next question was; do you know why they did that? I said yeah, he said because I was bad and that I wouldn’t stop crying and if I wanted to cry he would give me something to cry about and he put my fingers in fire on the stove. They didn’t even know my mom had more children so they had went back to the house and this time they had a valid reason to. I saw them bring my siblings out followed by Sheena and her boyfriend in hand cuffs. . We had nothing to show that we’d even lived there. Come to find out a month or two later my mom came looking for us. I thought she was in jail but that whole time she was at the hospital giving birth to her 4th child. From seeing the reactions of the officers and social worker I could see that they were as affected by this whole ordeal just as I was. This information was coming from a child, who was me, this was my memory of the very first time sitting in this same room not too long ago. I continued to tell them my story. I finished with; yea the house was a mess and we had one big cot on the floor in the kitchen corner, they said she had left us with her Godsister while she was giving birth. So technically it wasn’t her fault the first time. After doing the investigation they gave us back to her but under Netty’s care. Crazy right! 2 separate events but both so similar and connected that both resulted in us being placed in foster care. From ages 5 to 9 I endured abuse and neglect by the people who supposed to have loved, protected and taken care of us.

So now at 7 years old, after going through the first situation here we are going back home but to a person we didn’t even know. Someone my mom trusted to help her get us. Lol. It’s funny how the system works, they didn’t see anything wrong with that situation. They did their investigation, deemed the home livable and started the reuniting process. Don’t get me wrong I was thrilled, I was excited, I was innocent what child don’t want to be with their mom? But that short time with the Johnsons I felt loved, wanted and most important I was safe. So here I am now being taken out of a stable environment to be put back into an unknown situation. Believe me now looking back it seems surreal. Like a movie but no this was my life, a small part that made a big change and difference in me.

Fast forward... here I am 9 years old sitting in the Johnsons home in the bathtub, with a secret to tell. I looked up at Ms. Johnson and asked can I show you something, but you have to promise not to tell! I was scared but I knew I was in a safe place, I knew that they would protect me even though I was scared I knew I had to tell them. She said sure baby what’s wrong, I turned around and showed her my back, she saw the bruises and the open wounds that weren’t healing well she cried and called her husband into the bathroom. He became furious, I mean I never seen him mad before. He cried and yelled and next thing I know they were on the phone with the police and the social worker who had been placed on my case. By the time I was done bathing, the police, caseworker and an investigator was their to take pictures and do a report. I knew I was safe but I was soo damn scared. I wasn’t scared of my foster parents. I was scared at the fact that I was going to get in trouble, before I left for my weekend visit I was told to keep my mouth shut!! What goes on in Aunt Netty’s house stayed in her house and I had broken that rule.

With punishment hanging over my head, she was a person to be very afraid of, her punishments were harsh. I’m talking about beatings with extinction cords dipped in bleach, glass bottles thrown at your head, punched in the face, no food... I mean she was a monster to me I would pee on myself at the thought of her. I was also worried about what she’d do to my birth mom. The Johnson’s assured me that I was safe, but that didn’t stop my nightmares or the bad feelings I felt. I was traumatized, I was scared, I was not the child they once knew. I cried and begged not to go back. I remember going to an emergancy court hearing that very next week. all I remember was that the judge said that my siblings and I were now “wards of the state”. I didn’t know what that meant til about 2 years later. I just knew that I didn’t have to go back to her or back into that predicament. I was finally safe but those next two years would prove that I had indeed been through something that was soo traumatic for me, that my behavior began to change for the worse.

2Bcontinued......