Again, at the time I was 14 years old. I was in the 8th grade because I had to repeat 6th grade. I had two best friends, Ashley and Megan. I had a boyfriend named Jonathan and was focused on whether I wanted to lose my virginity or not. So, once the shock of my dad going away settled down, I was mainly focused on my own teenage life. I acted out a lot at school, if my boyfriend was not at school that day, I wouldn’t go or would find a reason to go home. I was always being written up for detention, it was usually for talking back, writing, passing notes, or showing up late. I didn’t care about anything but myself, not my future, not my reputation, just how and what kind of attention I could get from my boyfriend and friends.
I remember things started disappearing after that first night the drug dealers were in the house. My dad had this amazing hunting bow that I was so proud that I could pull back and shoot. That disappeared along with random appliances like the vacuum. My mom had gotten a roommate and she looked like she had a drinking and drug problem. My sisters and I started sleeping in the same room just so I knew none of the strange people were going to try and sneak into their room at night and do God knows what. Every night, no lie, the woman my mom had living with us as a roommate, in my old room, would bring home a different guy, both of them would be drunk. My sisters, who were 8 and 9 years old and I would be laying in bed, trying to get to sleep for school the next day and we would hear this woman in the very next room having the loudest, most obnoxious sex ever. Me being the rebel with every cause, would blast the music in our room, beat on the wall, or I would be so pissed that my little sisters are laying there having to listen to this shit, I would beat on her door, and when she opened it I would tell her how disgusting and ignorant she was for bringing all these different men into my home where my little sisters and I, with no positive guidance, are just trying to make it until their father comes home, and make it through this with the least amount of damage possible. I know my mom was screwing the dealers for drugs but at least at the time I didn’t know it. She didn’t make it as obvious as the roommate did, my mom had couth, and knew what she was doing was wrong and we shouldn’t be aware of it. My mom had locked herself and whoever else she was doing the drugs with in her room and I just didn’t even know she was home half the time. Knowing everything I know now, I can make sense of these situations I didn’t understand then.
I will continue with my story, one part at a time, so hang in there. Next we’ll get to the worst guy my mom ever could have possibly met and how he ruined our lives, at an even more alarming rate than it already was. Thanks for following my story.