(This is the on-going story of my childhood…to start at the beginning please read my first post at http://www.gabigrace.net/four-year-old-and-mother-survives-bludgeoning-by-river-rock/)
There was a lot of partying going on at my house. My mother always had friends over, and they always seemed to act strangely when I got home from school… Shuffling things into their purses quickly or going off into mom’s back bedroom and shutting the door. This was a strange new occurrence to me. I wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but I knew something was.
Sometimes mom’s friends would stay over and sleep on the couch. Sometimes they were not alone.
I remember being kept up most of the night on one of these occasions by the couple in the living room. Sex sounds is not something a girl should have to listen to all night at the age of twelve. Covering my head with my pillow, I tried to block out the noises until I would finally succumb to sleep.
Getting up for school the next morning and walking through the living room where these people laid tangled together on the floor was a whole new embarrassing moment. Sometimes I could not wait to get out of the door and off to school…
A lot of people that I went to school with had little mirrors hanging in their lockers, so I finally got my mother to order me one to take to school. It came in the mail on a Friday, so I would have to wait until Monday to be able to take it to school. It had magnets on the back, so I stuck it to the refrigerator when it arrived so nothing would happen to it before I could take it to school with me. I was so excited that I would have my very own locker mirror like the “cool” girls did.
My mom had a lot of friends over that weekend, and they stayed up all night partying about every night. I would cover my head and try so hard to get to sleep with all of the loud music, laughing, and partying going on in the room next to me.
When I awoke and got ready for school on Monday morning, I was so excited to take my little locker mirror with me. I went into the kitchen to grab it before I headed out to the school bus, but when I took it off of the fridge it was full of scratches. I was so upset. I called my mom into the room and showed her the mirror and asked her what happened to it?
She looked at it and made up some excuse about one of her friends using it…
I was twelve, but I was not naive, suddenly all of the sniffing, shuffling things out of my view, going in the back room, and partying until all hours of the night started to make sense. My mom had started using cocaine, and that’s how all of those scratches ended up on my new little mirror…
Please read the next phase of my story at http://www.gabigrace.net/harboring-runaways/