It all started at the age of nine when I realized what my father was really saying to me, and how it hurt and realized that he didn’t understand me at all. Not only did he hurt me with his words, it was also physical abuse. He all ways told me it was his way or the highway. So at the age of ten, my dad and I, who we will call papa, got into a big fight. Only this time I decided to hit back. So the police were called but I was long gone and this became … me … a runaway child … running … running wild.
Later on that night I met up with some of my brother’s friends, all boys of course. They hid me in the basement of their house. It was about three of my brother’s friends; they were twice my age give or take a little. The oldest was nineteen.
In the morning when they went to school I would walk around all day until school let out. I knew that their mother was going to work, well as you may well know, they had something else on their minds. Rape accrued one after the other until all three were done, so I got away.
I slept in my father’s garage. I would always go there at 11 p.m. because I knew that he would fall asleep during the 10 p.m. news. That didn’t last very long. My mother caught me asleep. I had overslept. It was after 8:00 a.m. My mother always came out to warm the car up even in the summer time. And there I was, so she called the police. There I was looking at my first time in lock up but for some reason I knew that I would get out soon and I did. Here I go … I was put into a foster home. I had a feeling something was about to happen … and it did!
Tune in to see what happens next … to the runaway …
Runaway sign off.
