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Blurred memories

Forcing myself to go over the memories in my head, and strain to put together some of the blurry ones has not been an easy task. I didn't think it would be, mind you, but I wanted to get it out there that my brain hurts. :P


Ryan was working at one of the hot shot restaurants where we lived, and often came home smelling like booze. I cannot count how many nights I have different pieces of memories of him coming into my room.. the smell of alcohol taking over all my senses, 'till he would start touching me.

I remember vividly the first time he kissed me, because it had literally shocked me, up before then - the things I do remember never involved kisses. I don't know why, but after everything he'd done so far, this just seemed.. So much worse to me. I actually was so shocked that I spoke his name, in that questioning kind of way. I remember him putting his mouth on mine again after I did, then telling me it was okay - he loved me, and I loved him. It's not wrong because he loves me. I don't think that he had ever spoken either, a lot of times when he came into my room, I didn't move I pretended I was asleep, which I know we both knew better. He'd told me he never meant to hurt me, that it was wrong, that he loved me. I didn't say anything else that I recall of, because then it started again - I'd feel him ease my legs apart, some nights he was gentle, other nights more rough like in a hurry. After awhile it didn't burn anymore, it just was. It wasn't pleasure, it wasn't pain anymore. It just was. It'd be done, he'd leave my room and I'd be safe again, until the next time.

After awhile, it became normal. Or I became more numb to it? After awhile I looked for the attention from him. Somebody at least loved me, right?

I found some comfort in drugs after some time, my brother was into pot, but he didn't do much else. Me, I liked smoking, but other things I was finding kept me feeling numb inside. To this day I feel guilty, because when I reached that point, I waited for him at night, if he didn't come in, I wondered what I did wrong. Did he not love me anymore? How many therapists have I seen that I couldn't talk too, told me it's not my fault. Now tell me how many I believed?

Meanwhile, as I'm turning to drinking, drugs and whatever else worked, my dads temper was spinning out of control. If I got into trouble, it meant serious issues in the house. He'd hit, with his belt, or his hand when he'd fly of the handle. Often leaving welts or marks on me. Then he'd feel so bad, and we'd talk, and it'd be okay again. Like I mentioned before, my dads moods were never in between. And I know it sounds crazy, but I knew he loved me. I knew two dads, because really, he was like two people.

Heh, I remember one night, we decided to sneak into my dads booze, well, my dad rarely drank - so he didn't have much. He did have a bottle of Bourbon Jack I think it was. Our plan, drink some, water it down.. it was never done. Well, the whole bottle ended up drank, so I got this plan to say I was in the cabinets searching for something, and I dropped it, it broke.

Well, if you've ever drank Bourbon Jack, you'll know the bottles are so not breakable. Sonny, a friend of mine decided to find a new way to break it.. by beating it on the counter. The counter broke, the bottle didn't. There went my plan, and boy did I get beat for that one. Along with all my stuff ending up in trash bags, and told I was being sent to a foster home. I didn't get sent when things cooled down, but I did have an ugly welt on my neck. In which, a friend at school told the school nurse about. Who in turned called Social Services. I denied what happened, my dad got called in, and he got out of it however he did. All I knew is that I got beat yet again, for making him out to be a child abuser. He so wouldn't believe me that I didn't tell anyone.

Sorry, I seem to be jumping around with the memories here.

Another memory that gets cut off, that disturbs me so fucking greatly:
Ryan has me and my brother in a room, and he makes me sit with him. Now please keep in mind that I have no recollection of anything other than this happening between my brother and I, and how close him and I were. He was all I could trust growing up, we went through everything together.

I remember Ryan making me get undressed. And he wanted me to touch my brother, and use his penis as a gear shift. My brother was crying and yelling at Ryan... and if I remember right, something disturbed what was happening. The door, I think? I got locked into the closet, and not let out 'till dark. This isn't the only time the closet and I got stuck together. :P See, always been a closet case? heh.. sorry. Where was I? As we grew up, my brother would try to talk to me about things that happened. To this day, with his death, I still don't know what all Ryan did to him, but I know that things happened. For years my brother carried guilt around thinking it was his fault. Something about things starting when I was too little to remember anything and it involved a babysitter we had. I don't know - I don't know if I ever will. And people wonder why i can't get over my brothers death.

One Two Freddy's After You...

~I wasn't much of your typical girl who wanted dolls, barbies etc. But out came these two dolls, a boy and a girl that I really wanted. My dad got them for me, and I was as tickled as any young girl who got something she really wanted, up to the point to they had an alert come out that these dolls were making children sick.

My dad took them away, and Ryan decided to do a 'burial' for them. He played taps and everything, it was really quite cheesy.

The next night I woke up because I felt something dripping onto my face. I looked up and saw the dolls hanging above my bed - dripping with red stuff - which I can only imagine he had used ketchup or something to that sort. I remember screaming and running into my dads bed - he worked night shift and wasn't home. I locked his door and curled up in his what to me at the time, was a giant waterbed.


.... Ok, my dad did find out about this episode, and Ryan did get into trouble, he was supposed to get rid of the dolls to begin with.


~Nightmare on Elm Street was out. My dad warned I shouldn't watch it, but Ryan said I'd be fine, and Dad was at work anyhow. I made it through the movie ok, a jump here, a jump there.

I had started sleeping more and more in my dads bed while he was at work after the doll episode. And I had curled up and started to doze, I always felt safe in my dads bed.

The master bathroom was open, and you could see in it if the door was open. It was, and I saw the drawers by the sink, moving in and out slowly. Getting spooked, I curled up under my dads blanket. Ryan jumped into the bed a few moments later, wearing a very similar Freddy like outfit, sharp things from his fingers, etc. He scratched at my chest and was making weird noises... and here my memory goes blank. Like my last post, I woke with some cuts on my legs and one on my chest, and my pjs ripped.


.... Ok, so one thing I did find out later is that Jim, Ryan's best friend was under the sink cabinets making them move to scare me. It's not hard to fill in the blanks for me, know of other abuse that I do remember from what happened after that. With the memories being hidden - my biggest question was if Jim watched, or was involved.

Snipe hunting with a twisted twist.

I'm young, trying to remember the age - I think around 8 or 9.

Ryan comes home and tells me dad has said I can have a new pet. Cool. He takes me down by the river, and if you've heard of snipe hunting... this is what is about to happen, in a more twisted way.

So, he tells me the usual, hold this blanket and wiggle this stick and you'll see a cute furry hamster like guy come for it. When you see one, cover it with the blanket. Did I buy this, well, yeah.. I was young. :P So , he tells me he's going to go get some more chew, he'll be right back. Does the usual snipe trick and takes off. Ok, I think... He’ll be back.. a little scared but nothing major yet. Time passes; I'm realizing that no snipe like thing is going to come get in this blanket. I throw the stick, and sit down with the blanket. It was already dark, but getting darker and I'm starting to feel really cold. It was close to Halloween.

I remember I must have dozed off at one point, but when I woke up I heard dogs , loud dogs for that matter, so I'm thinking I can't be that far from a street. I start to walk, and walk. I never did find the street. I heard a bunch of scrambling around, and then things went black. Ryan, and a bunch of his friends had jumped me wearing Halloween masks, and this is where it goes blank for a bit. I came through in my bed with scratches and bruises all over my legs and face, and I burned, oh so badly in a place no 8 or 9 year old girl wants to burn.

I recovered fine and Halloween approached closer. Always one of my favorite times of year. Ryan's friends were doing a haunted house, and to much glee, he was taking me. All was fun, 'till a person in a very furry, I guess werewolf like suit grabbed me and started choking me. I don't remember anything else about that night.


*names and locations will be changed as I go for the privacy of all involved.

Welcome...

This blog was born to hold the memories of my past. You are welcome to follow me on the journey. I have had a few people tell me that I should sell my story, and have it become a book. It's a thought I am taking very seriously.

In the meantime, for my normal blog Empty Veins - Go here.

So now, a little history:

Where to begin in this attempt to sort out my past? Most would say the expected.. the beginning, right? heh. I'm afraid it won't be that easy - for I don't remember the beginning. So, let's just start with memories.. They'll be random from here on out, but I'll try to put them in order as best as I can.

First, let's do a little background for those joining this journey that does not know much about my family. I grew up mostly with my dad. For a long time we didn't know where my mom was, she came back into my life as I got older - and left it before I can really remember much details of it. I know now that I am older that she left for many valid reasons. I think fear being a big one. I'm happy to say that we are close now, and she is an active part of my life.

So, I was a daddy’s girl…I spent most of my childhood growing up with him. But there were often times that I was sent to live at my grandmothers - who had a foster home, I loved it and hated it all in one. My dad had many moods; he was always up, or down, never in between. Sometimes he'd lock himself in his room for days at a time... And he worked constantly. I learned to take care of myself fairly young, I'd say about 8. I cooked, I cleaned, and I helped my dad pay the bills. I did whatever I could to keep him happy. Whether it was a household task, or trying to track down my mother. I was used to it being just my brother and I. He was my stepping stone, and we got through everything together. All of this is stuff I'm okay with. The nightmares started when my dad adopted my cousin. His mom, my dad’s sister died when he was very young, and later my dad legally adopted him. It’s always been unknown where his father is. Most of the start of my memories will start there, the rest just kind of falls in after. I will add more background as I go, but that’s a start. I am not entirely sure how much will make sense from here on out, but I'll do the best I can. I'm going to take it memory to memory. Don't be afraid to ask me any questions as we go along here, in fear that it'll upset me. It won't.