The Forgotten One (Ch. 2)

My father started dating my babysitter. Who eventually came to be my stepmother. I am not sure when they decided to move in together. I think it was probably not long after she started taking care of me. I was around two or three when they made the decision to cut my real mother out of my life. Stepmom came into the relationship with her own child from her first marriage. By a man named Joel. I only remember meeting him once when he brought my stepsister a huge Easter basket. I remember living in a greenhouse, going to a school called Richell Special School.

At one point, I was standing under a tree clinging to it. My stepmother came out and asked me what I was doing.

I pointed up to the sky and screamed, "Superman is coming to get me!"

She explained to me that Superman wasn't coming and it was just the clouds moving in the sky. She just walked back inside, muttering about what a weird child I was.

My father one time brought home a baby chicken. I loved it in his hands until he put it on the floor. I ran away screaming in fear. I am not really sure why. I guess I didn't like it once it was free.

I can't really recall when my parents started to become abusive towards me. I am sure it could not have been long after they started living together.

She never seemed the type that could keep her temper in check for long.

I am not sure how my father never noticed, or maybe I was too afraid to say anything. They wonder why I started compulsively lying for so long, it's probably due to the fact that I never got any attention from another parent.

My father was always working at night and sleeping during the day and step mommy probably ignored me most of the time until she had to pay attention.

Once I was a little over four, they got pregnant with my brother. Then a year and a half later they had my second brother.

Not long after, we all moved into a house that my stepmother's middle brother owned with his wife. They decided to move out somewhere else and gave the house to his sister and my father.

8341 Henry Circle was the number of our house, and the place I would be in for many a year to come.

The first day moving is pretty significant in many people's lives. Mine was no different, but I remember it for a very different reason.

That was the day I recall being slapped by my father for the first time.

We were just moving in and I called his wife by her first name.

Standing right in front of the house on the lawn, he started screaming at me and telling me that I was to call her mom. I informed him that she wasn't my mother. He then proceeded to backhand me across the face.

All I could do was stand there and cry. I remember feeling angry that I was having to call this woman something that she wasn't to me. But I didn't dare defy him again. So I did what he said. She had a smug look on her face and I knew she had enjoyed watching me get hit.

Eventually, they enrolled us in Abbott Loop Elementary School. It's funny the things you can remember and the things you can't. I can't remember my teacher's name, but I can remember a little boy named Jason calling out to me, calling me skinny and telling me to come over to where he was. I hated school from that day on, and it didn't get better from here on out—I can tell you that much.

I was the tallest kid in my class and the tallest girl, so I got called beanpole, skinny, and beanstalk almost everyday by the other kids.

My home life wasn't great. She liked to tell me I was stupid, retarded, slow, and ugly, among other things while my father was at work.

I only remember my father sticking up for me once. When she threw a spoon at me while we were at the table and he told her never to hit me again.

After that, she would wait till he was sleeping or at work to stick out at me.

My stepsister didn't have it much better. Her mother would call her fat, chunky, and would tell her she needed to lose weight constantly.

Yes, she was a little husky, but it was only natural because she took after her father.

It would be one thing we all had to deal with in that house.

But no, strange things started occurring not long after moving in.

I remember one incident when we were almost six. Sis and I were getting ready for bed when all of a sudden our cat White Whiskers came tearing through our room chasing something that we could not see.

All of a sudden we heard this voice crying help me, help me!

She looked over at me and asked, "Did you just hear that?"

I said, "Yes, I thought maybe I was dreaming." We got down and tore our whole room apart looking for it, but never found anything. We tried to tell our parents, but they, of course, didn't believe us.

So not only did we have to deal with a crazy mother, two little brothers, and ambivalent father, and school, but we also had to wonder what the heck was in our house.

Next chapter: The neighborhood.