I was working a midnight shift at a convenience store, doing the best I could to appear normal. Frank had started putting Dannielles money in a Credit Union Account for which she had the debit card , so every two weeks she got money on her card to do with what she wanted. We never discussed what she did with her money. She was a very responsible kid, and it was her money, I didn't need to know.
Frank started coming around the house, to visit Dannielle, so he said. It always bothered me that he would come when I was home. I had never really gotten over his leaving and I still loved him like I did when we were teenagers. It was like all those years didn't happen.
When it came time for Dannielle's 13th birthday we planned a big skating party. That was the same night that Desert Storm happened. The adults were glued to the TV while the kids skated. Seemed to me that the world was finally ending and I almost felt relieved. The war was over so fast that no one had time to even think about it. Life went on and situations remained the same messed up like always. I still had no car, and was living with Debbie.
Frank chose one night after Dannielle had gone to bed to profess his love for me. He said he could not believe that I had carried this torch for him through all these years, and what a fool he had been to leave me alone. Now remember, he's married and has another daughter. Somehow in my mind that didn't matter, he was mine first. Dannielle was his first born, she should have a right to her family reunited.
He took me vehicle shopping, and made the down payment on a van. We rented a small trailer and Dannielle and I moved in. He promised he would make all the payments on the van, the trailer and pay the utilities. I felt like this could work out
I was setting things up in the trailer, trying to make it comfortable, and I needed to use his drill to hang some pictures. He brought it over then tried to instruct me how to use it. That was the first time I ever stood up to him. I told him in no uncertain terms that he was not going to teach me how to use a drill, I had been using one of those since I was 16 years old, and did not need to be educated. He referenced his wife and that she would not know the difference between a wrench and pliers, I reminded him that I was NOT his wife a fact he would do well to remember.
Boy, did that feel good! I believed I was back on track to being the confident self sufficient woman I believed myself to be
It was about three days after we moved in. It was a Friday night and Dannielle had gone skating as usual. She came home before I left for work. I told her to lock up behind me and get some sleep. She hugged me, and I left for work. When I got home, I noticed the ashtray on the coffee table, strange, I didn't normally leave butts in the ashtray, so I picked it up, washed it and put it in the drainer. I went to the bathroom and there was a hand towel wadded up on the sink. I figured Dannielle must have gotten up in the night and just didn't hang the towel back up, and then I went toward the bedroom and noticed that the screen in the window of the back door was poking out, and wondered what was up with that;..I tucked it back in and went to bed.
Dannielle got up a little while later, and I got up with her. She had been crying and when I asked what was wrong she told me that one of the guys she called a friend from skating had showed up with his uncle after I had gone to work. She said they broke in the back door, that the older guy, the uncle, and told his nephew he was gonna 'get a piece of that'. I can't say I know exactly how she got out of it, but they left and she said they never touched her, but she was scared. She had taken a butchers knife to bed with her and it was under her pillow.
I hunted down the kid. I found him riding his bicycle and grabbed him by his shirt collar. I told him if he EVER did anything like that again, to ANYONE, and I found out about it, he would not have anything left to ever do it again. I went to Frank's, told him what was going on, and he decided that the only thing to do was for him to move in so he would be there at night while I worked.V
We talked about the fact that I was trying really hard, and I asked him not to bring alcohol into the house. I had a problem with it, and I could not afford to go back to drinking. I was trying to get right again. He agreed and moved in. It lasted 16 days.
One day he told me that he needed to go conference with his wife about her bills, he had always said he could take care of both households with no problem. I was cooking dinner when he came back a few hours later, and when he kissed me, the stench of sex gagged me. I pushed him away and said it didn't surprise me at all, but he could have at least washed his face before he came back. I would not let him touch me the rest of the day.
I had a small box cutter from work and because it had been so easy for someone to come in before, I started sleeping with it under my pillow. I knew I wasn't going to kill anyone with it, but I could hurt them really bad, and there would be proof that they were not there for good reasons. Apparently Frank found it under my pillow and was afraid I was going to use it on him.
From what I learned later from his sister, his wife had given him an ultimatum. His wife had told his sister about me, and Dannielle and that Frank had moved in with us. They had met Dannielle, but were not totally convinced that she was his child. Even his mother (who she looked like) was not convinced.
His sister knew her brother all to well, and she told his wife that she should tell him she wanted a divorce, and that she would take the house, all the cars, and half his money. He would also pay her alimony, and child support for her daughter and that in the end he would have enough money to support himself, if he was lucky and lived cheap. OR she said he could come home, turn his back on me totally and all would be forgiven. He could still support Dannielle, she was his child, after all. That was the end of that.
The night that he left was a Friday night. (gotta love Fridays!) Dannielle went skating and when she came home before I left for work she had two guys with her. I didn't know how old they were, but one had a cigarette and the other had a beer. She looked me in the eye, (again, 13 years old) and told me that "You are going to work, I have these two boys here, and If I want to have sex with them there is not a damn thing you can do about it." I wanted to scream. I took a breath, took her by the hand. I told her she was absolutely correct, but if she was going to do that, use these contraceptives. I said I was not ready to be a grandmother yet, and I went to work.
All I could do for the next 8 hours was think about what was happening at my house. What was she doing? What were the boys doing? What was I gonna find when I got Home? I don't even remember what I did at work that night, I could have been robbed and not known it.
When I got home, and the house was neat, the boys were gone and Dannielle was asleep in her bed, I finally let out the breath I had been holding walking up to the door. I was so relieved that everything was okay, that all I could do then was to be seriously ANGRY! I opened the cupboard to get a glass for water, when I spotted a bottle on the top shelf. Frank had left this really expensive bottle of really smooth bourbon behind.
I thought, well, one drink might help me calm down. I really needed it after the night I had, and maybe it would help me look past the anger. So I took a drink. Okay, still angry, didn't see how she could have done that to me. What had I done to deserve that, I need another drink. An hour and a half later, the bottle is empty, and I more pissed now than I was before. I can't go on like this. I can't deal with this life if this is all I am ever gonna have.
I just wanted it all over. But, I can't kill myself, and have her wake up to find me, I don't want her to live a life that ends up like mine, so the only answer is to kill her, then myself. This was the first time I ever truly considered killing anyone else, or myself. I didn't see any other way. I grabbed the butchers knife, took a deep breath and headed to her room.
I stood in the door and watched her sleeping. I was crying uncontrollably and it must have awakened her. She looked at me, and I turned and ran, throwing the knife in the sink. I ran to the van, drove to a pay phone and called Frank and told him to come get her or I was gonna kill her. He was to the house before I got back.
Dannielle had no clue what was going on. She only knew she was losing her home, her mom and was being thrown into total unknown. It broke my heart to watch her go off with him. From that point on, I was allowed very little contact with her, and even then, he listened to the conversations.
After they left, I took a shower, changed my clothes and went to the mental health clinic to set up counseling sessions. I went to my first one, told the woman Phyllis, what had happened and that I needed help. She sent me over to the Doctor who labeled as paranoid schizophrenic with bipolar tenancy and manic depressive. He put me on a whole bunch of pills which made me feel worse than dead. I could not function, I could not think clearly, and so was unable to work.
I lost my job, I lost the trailer, and I lost my van. I had no where to go except back to Debbie's. I don't know how long I stayed there, but I remember finding a couple of different jobs as live in house keepers or care giver. I kept thinking about Mr, James, and I didn't want to be responsible for these poor people. I could not lift one lady out of her wheel chair on to her bed. I caused a skin tear and that was enough for me. I am kinda lost as to where I was for the next little bit. I just know that I kept waking up everyday, pretending that I was living.
I continued my therapy sessions, but told them I would not continue on the meds, they made me feel more crazy than without them. I was hearing voices, that did not sound like the invisible people I had always talked to. These voices were dark and made me uncomfortable.
Debbie had moved into a bigger house, and rented out Mom's house. She allowed me to come live with her, and in return, I kept the house clean, did the laundry and cooked the meals. It was a good arrangement and everyone seemed happy. Dannielle came there to live, and shared a room with Shannon (they were like sisters already). I got into a routine and life felt about as normal as it could be. Buster used to jokingly, tell people he had become a Mormon and had two wives. Debbie was in Nursing school and when she graduated she went to work at the Hospital in Pahokee. I was there to keep the house running.
I guess it was about a year or two when the landlord told her he needed the house back, they were moving back in. The next house that she found, did not have room for me and Dannielle. We tried to move back into the house, but still could not afford it, then she went to live with friends, never again returning to her Fathers house, that had ended very bad. I had leased my own chip van, and wandered around it that for a while before I found a little apartment. I thought that would be okay, but the longer I was there the more I realized just how lonely I was.
I couldn't pay the rent, I couldn't pay the lease on the chip van, and I could not go on living. I just wanted to die. Not kill myself, I was back to just not wanting to wake up.
Chuck had taken on a paper route at night. The newspaper had gone to 7 days a week, and they needed drivers. I was going with him so as not to be alone. When a route came available, he helped me get a car so I could have my own route.
I still needed a place to live, I had been moving around anywhere I could find to stay. It was getting more difficult to find some place safe.I knew Dannielle was safe she had gotten a job and had her own little apartment.
Debbie had a client through a nursing service, that needed someone to stay with her. She was just alone and needed a companion. I could continue with the paper route and do light housekeeping and such in exchange for room and board.
The lady was sweet and we got a long well. She didn't mind me being gone all night, or sleeping late in the morning. She was a night person also.
I don't know how it started, I was using crack again. At first, it was just a little to get me awake in the early afternoon, so I could get the chores done. Then it was in the middle of the day to keep me going, then at night so I could run the paper route.
The lady I lived with had a granddaughter who came to live with her. She and her husband moved into the spare room, and it seemed okay. I spent most of my time in my room after that, and well, the crack was there, I might as well smoke it.
One of the people that had attended nursing school with Debbie worked for the nursing service also. His name was Tim. He became the lady's nurse. One day while I was out running errands he had come. I don't know why, but he went into my room, opened my desk drawer and found my pipe. He knew what it was, and when I got home they confronted me, and kicked me out. I was not even allowed to get the stuff out of my room. They boxed it up and put it on the porch and told me to come get it.
Everything I had left was in that room. All of my legal books from school, everything that I hadn't left at Debbie s was there and they only gave me part of it back. They kept my books because they said I had stolen them from the school. You knew they had never gone to college, because they don't lend you books in college, you buy them. I had spent a fortune on those books, and now those too were gone.
I had no place else to go, I rented a warehouse, brought what little I had left and moved in. I knew I had to be careful, but I had no place else to go. A week later my car was repossessed because I had forgotten to make the payment. I could not run my paper route without it. Janie had a car that she felt she was supposed to give me. I had given her Mothers car when she passed, and a year later she tried to sell it back to me. I took it so had a way to keep my paper route.
Living in the warehouse wasn't pleasant at all. I stayed there for a while. I had a microwave, a coffee pot and a cooler. I kept Ice in the cooler so that I could have a days worth of lunch meat or something. It wasn't ideal, but it was at least dry.
I was at my lowest. Life had no meaning. All I wanted to do was not wake up. I had very little contact with Dannielle and Chuck was so hung up on his mother that he allowed me to be homeless. No one wanted me, and that was okay, because I didn't want me either.
Crack seemed to be the only thing that mattered, and I stayed high all the time. It cost me a small fortune, but I still paid the warehouse rent so I had a place to stay out of the rain.
The only time I was not alone was when I would go with Chuck to his Counseling sessions in Jenson Beach. That was part of his plea agreement. We went twice a week, I read, or slept or found something to occupy my mind while he was in his session, then we would go get something to eat and head back to town. He would drop me off at the warehouse, where I would immediately start smoking until it was time to go get the papers.
In March we were sitting at the 5th Ave traffic signal, there was a big truck in front of me, and I hung way back. I could not see the light. A pick up came barreling up behind me, and I knew he wasn't going to stop. He rear ended us so hard that it pushed us way forward. Thankfully, the light had changed and the Truck was moving. I was driving, Chuck was asleep in the passenger seat and he woke up in the floor.
I got out of the car, asked the guy what he was doing. I could tell from his breath he had been drinking. I had not yet gotten high. The police never took a breathalyzer test, never questioned his drinking, never did anything but call it an accident. He was walking away without any kind of a ticket or anything.
I had whiplash again, started seeing a chiropractor, and we hired a lawyer to sue the guy that hit us. I was in so much pain all the time and between the drinking, the pain pills and the crack I still was not able to do much of anything. But I ran my paper route. 7 days a week, and never had a day off.
If we wanted to take a day off, we had to hire our own subs. I had trained two and never got to take a day off, because the newspaper hired them away from me. So I felt trapped, but I needed the money so I kept going.
I had quit seeing the therapist. She never wanted to talk about the things that I thought really bothered me, the men who had done me so wrong forever, the lack of love, and the apparent lack of compassion they all seemed to have, Including Chuck. All she ever wanted to talk about was my Mother and what kind of bad things did she do to me. She never would believe that My Mother was my everything, that she was the only person in my whole life that I KNEW loved me. It was like she thought that I had some deep dark secret of some horrible abuse at the hands of my Mother. I DID NOT! My Mother was far from perfect, but she was never a monster, and she loved me.
It was late September. Mom's birthday was just around the corner. I could not believe it had been 6 years since she had passed, and I still could not function without her. I got really really depressed.
I talked to everyone about my crack problem. I begged everyone that would listen to help me get off it. To help me get my life back. I prayed so hard and I believed he was not listening. He had promised me, He told me I would have someone. This was not what he promised me. I could not live like this anymore.
One night, I found a quiet place to park while I was waiting on the papers, and I started smoking. Usually I kept moving around, so that it didn't look suspicious. This night I stayed right where I was. I figured it was late, everyone was asleep, and I wasn't easily seen. I was wrong.
I had smoked all but a tiny sliver of crack, and my pipe can was in the floor board just barely under the passenger seat. I was sitting working on my route sheet when a police car pulled up behind me. No big deal, I was just doing my paper work. Just like always. This guy was out to prove himself, and he shined his light in the car and spotted the rim of my pipe can just under the seat. He asked to search the car, and what could I say.
I was arrested, my car was impounded and I was in jail. All I could think about was Debbie. She now the Nurse at the Jail, and her Buster was the Road Lieutenant. It's a small town, everyone knows who is related to who, but that didn't matter, I was going to jail. I was going to embarrass the two people who had never let me down. I had truly hit bottom.
As I was being processed all I could think was Where Are YOU?