My memories as a kidnap victim

I spent the majority of my childhood through young adulthood looking over my shoulders in paranoia. I spent most of my youth fearful that I would be kidnapped again. My worst fear was that barbaric thought experiment that my bio mom's husband attempted on me. I remember the fear and hatred I felt as being whisked away from my dad, who loved me, and did his best to protect me.

When I was about to go into kindergarten, my bio mom's husband, Joey, decided the best course of action was to steal me away in the night. They had visitation rights every other weekend, and Joey came up with a plan to steal me away, we would move over the weekend without a trace in the hopes my dad wouldn't find me. I felt alone despite my brother and mother. I found myself in a whirlwind of Joey screaming at me for not liking pink, claiming my dad never loved me, and listening to my bio mom's streaks of pain following the dull thud of his fists.

Neither my bio mom, nor Joey were mentally stable, my bio mom had schizophrenia, bipolar, CPTSD, BPD, and an eating disorder. I would later find out I have most of the disorders she had. She would often forget I needed to eat, causing me to beg her for a morsel of food, inviting either her or her husband to attack me either physically or verbally. I feared my life ending before it had really began, I had hoped to make it to school at least once before dying, I had hoped to kiss a boy, and wished to be allowed a chance to complete this life.

When I was in that house I ate primarily oatmeal, which my bio mom typically burnt somehow, causing me to leave bowl upon bowl on the kitchen floor to mold. The house tended to look subtly off, despite their attempt to create the most average house any time someone came to visit. Maybe that's why something seemed off. I spent my time there in a tail spin, the memories I have from when I was kidnapped feel like a fevered nightmare, nothing quite real.

I had to pretend with neighbors that everything was absolutely fine, nothing out of the normal was going on. I slipped up once within ear shot of the living room window while speaking with a child my age in saying "Joey isn't my dad" a simple remark that my bio mom and brother were made to suffer for. I had to watch as he beat them in front of me screaming that it was my fault. Screaming that next time it would be worse. I spent my nights swaddled in sweat and tears, having nightmares of my real dad being ripped to shreds. I couldn't even escape in my sleep, not even a moment of rest.

There was one night when I was excitedly woken up by my bio mom who explained I needed to hurry out to see the snow. As I stood in the snow I knew I wasn't even in Sacramento anymore, I had never seen snow before, a thought that chilled me to the bone. Tears poured down my face as I realized I may never see my dad, grandma, mom, aunts, uncles, cousins, ever again. This may be all I have from now on.

I was old enough to begin school and began to bed them to bring me to school. I wanted to learn, and I needed a break from them. Eventually I won the singular battle I had grasped to day in and day out. Joey began looking for a school, an act that got him caught, my father was notified. I had been found, they located me based on the address used attempting to enroll me. I would finally be saved. I would finally see my dad again.

I had been sequestered for half a year, away from the parents that truly loved me and tried their best to make me happy. When I finally saw my parents again, I cried my eyes out, that was possibly the happiest moment of my life. The last six months had been torture. I hardly ate, I rarely felt safe, I was scared to sleep, I was molested, and I was deprived of pre-K due to this ordeal.

I still fear being kidnapped more than anything else. I know the powerlessness that comes with it as well as the reality that you may never return to your old life. I know the pain of realizing that even if you do see your old life again, you'll never be the same. I have changed, I'm all too aware of that car going below the speed limit, of the reality that I cannot have too many things with my legal name on them, as Joey still holds an obsession for my bio mom, 15 years after their divorce. I have to be careful not to tell the wrong person what city I live in, unfortunately that involves my little brother.