The helpless life

Who am I? Do you really want to know ? Hell; sometimes I don’t even know! I have more personality than I can handle, but yet i’m still in this messed up world. It’s not as bad anymore. It’s just getting good. Here I am; in this classroom. Starring at all these people; who wants me to become famous, or just an actress, or actor like myself. My director stands in front of me. With her long reddish hair, slim nice body, and a pale face. With a book in her hand; as if she knows it all. Who can tell me what I am? or What I can, or cannot do? I was born to be successful. When I was five years old; I can remember pain. It’s not a pain where you fall off a bike, and scraped your knee; type of a pain, but one you will never forget in a lifetime. My mother she was a beautiful black women. With almonds shape eyes, and a curvy body; that men would lust for! Truthfully; underneath that pretty smile, and sweet ways; was a conniving, dishonest, money hungry, manipulative, and head strong bold women. She did anything to get what she wanted. My father; disappeared when I was three years old. The things that I could remember about him; he was kind-hearted and giving. He made sure the family was taken care of, but he was a drug addict at the same time. Now; I had my stepfather. Who was a different kind of man. Someone; who is not my father, but doesn’t deserve to be called a stepfather either. He was tall, black or dark skinned; maybe around 5’8. Not a handsome man. Who asked little girls, “to come sit on his lap”, and he give them money ( me in particular) . He always took me places with him. We had gone into the woods; where I shot my first shotgun. It had nearly blown my shoulder off. We went on dirt trails; for him to teach me how to drive. This happened more than once. Not to mention; I had everything a kid wanted (candy). I was happy when I turned seven. I went to go visit my father for two weeks; who lived in California, because my mother went to prison. I was beyond happy to see him. We went to zoos, parks, out to eat ,swimming. We saw a lot of places, and did a bunch of things together with my siblings, cousins, and grandmother (his mother). What my father didn’t know; was that when it got close to bedtime; I was afraid of him! Afraid to sleep next to him, and afraid that he would try things with me. However; it never happened. All he wanted was to comfort me before I slept. I lived with my mother throughout my childhood. All I saw was the blood, the hate, the rage, the fear, the tears, the starvation, and the loss of hope. On a nice day my mother and stepfather would throw bbq’s. We would have them a-lot of the times. On this particular day; we had one it; when I was about 11 years old, and my closest bother was 12 years old. He was short like me, but a little taller than myself. He had high yellow-brownish skin. He was handsome, and clean cut; with eyes that capture tramps. He was a smooth talker with no action. My brother 18 years old; was tall 6 1 dark skinned, and handsome; with a personality that girls couldn't get a enough. He was a chill, cool, and laid-back kind of brother. My other brother; who was 15 years old had reddish-brown skin. He was not too tall, but had golden hair with a low cut, and golden skinned hairs; like mine on his arms. They were smooth and nice. He could be evil at the same time. He also could be a ladies man. However; it would have been many; if they weren’t afraid of him. All of us waiting around for my mother’s sweet beans, potatoes salad, bbq hamburgers, macaroni and cheese. My aunties and uncles would be in the backyard playing cards. The blues played on the radio. It was definitely a good day. At least for the moment. Out of nowhere it happens! Blood being splattered. My uncle and stepfather were fighting. Both of their faces were covered in blood.My uncle had struck my stepfather across his face. He put a deep gash; where the blood was rushing down the center of his forehead. My stepfather; then struck him back in the face. Now his face was bleeding too. My mother begin to standup for my stepfather. My uncle then struck her in the mouth. Now she was also bleeding. My brother Tony then struck my uncle; for hitting my mother. The police were called, and everything went back to normal. The night falls, and everyone is in their on space. I can hear my other uncle’s truck pull up. It had this loud motor. You could hear it. Especially, if you were at the front of the house. I guess he heard about earlier. I look out the window. He was coming quickly to the front door. He came in and started yelling at my mother. They begin to fight, and my brother helps once again. Only this time it almost took his life. My uncle started fighting my brother; stabbing him in his back. There was a piece of glass left sticking out his back. All the while I could see the blood splatter. As; they continue to fight. My uncle then flees out of the house. He was leaving my brother in the need of medical attention. He was taken to the hospital, but he was not able to tell what really happen. My mother was big on keeping secrets. Her most famous words were, “I will say what goes on in this house; stays in this house”. Her boyfriend would beat her all the time. She was always covered in blood. Tony didn’t know that. He lived with my father’s mother; our grandma. He always would visit in the summers growing up. This year he wanted to stay for good. It was a hot summer night. My stepfather decided he wanted to beat my mother that night. Things didn’t turn out well for him this time. He was so use to me, and my other two brothers ignoring it . It was the usual. But, not to Tony . He heard my mother screaming. He jumped up; I followed behind him. My other two brothers got up after they heard a sound that was not normal . My stepfather screaming for his life. Tony was beating him in his face; with a hammer. When he stopped; my stepfather ran out the house. He yelled that he would kill my brother. My mother yelled that my stepfather was never coming back. We knew it was a lie. Tony didn't know; in fact he didn't know a lot. When my stepfather returned. He decided to move back to California. Weeks had pasted;Tony was was waiting on my grandma to come get him. He had begun to act strange. Since my stepfather returned. He pulled a gun out on me; and l told him I was telling. He convinced me not too. I still wondered why I didn’t tell on him? Things are just, as normal as, they were going to get. My auntie was planning a crawfish boil. We were all excited to go, but hoping just no fights. We always were unlucky for fights that happened. My brothers, myself, and a cousin were standing on the porch. We were singing, laughing, and playing around. When My mother yelled out, “it’s time to go”. My oldest brother said, “we going to get a ride over there later!” it was still early. My mother and stepfather left. We all went inside to their room; that they all shared together. Everyone was laughing and joking around. Tony pulled out the gun and pointed it at everyone . My oldest brother told him to stop playing and lets go back outside. Tony puts the gun to his head and pulled the trigger. The gun didn’t go off. He then laughed, and said,”y'all thought i was gone kill myself!” twice. My oldest brother said again, “lets go outside”. We began to leave out. The next thing you know was a loud sound went off. Tony had shot himself in the head. Blood was splashing everywhere. His eyes were rolling back in his head; while he shaking. My oldest brother began yelling, screaming, jumping, punching, and kicking the door. The ambulance were called. He was taken to Baton Rouge General Hospital. He was later on a breathing machine and pronounced brain dead. I cried a lot during this time. All i could remember is the song we sung together; before it happened and the kindness of him being in my presence. I made it to the hospital for the third time to say my goodbyes. They were taking him off life support. I walked in and I look at my brother, and I sung that song,”Don't leave me”, by the Backstreet Boys. It had just came out. I kept singing it and crying. Moments later a tear from my brother face had fallen down his left cheek. It was the last time I saw him. My second big brother. The summer had past. My mother had landed herself back in prison. Back to california for us. This time it was a school year. My father was waiting to see me and my younger brother. Our father gave us an allowance every Wednesday. For me just being with my dad we had a good life for a moment. However; my father was back on drugs and disappeared many times. We ultimately had stopped going to school. We started hanging out with friends, and doing drugs, and drinking liquor. My closest brother and myself. We noticed our father didn't come home for the two weeks at a time. We then split up and we went our separate ways. Soon I didn't even know where he was, and neither did he know where I was. It didn’t matter at the time. We both had no where to go and had to find our own way in this world.