Why Me? (6 page)

One day, however, I decided that enough was enough. It was getting close to Christmas, and again the family was short on cash. Buddy had slipped on the ice and cut his leg open. Mom and
Dale
Richard
said they couldn’t afford both the vet bill and Christmas presents. This meant it was time to go to the mall and shoplift.

The whole family got into our big Suburban and headed toward the highway that led to the mall, which was forty-five minutes away. I was tired of these shoplifting trips, but what choice did I have? I leaned my head on the window and looked up at the sky, wishing my parents were rich enough to afford what we needed without the hassle of stuffing clothes and other things into my purse.

Dale
Richard
suddenly pulled over to the side of the road and pointed to a small cemetery that looked as though it had been around since the beginning of time. “Look at those decorations on that headstone,
Mary
Nancy
. You could make something like that!” I strained to see what
Dale
Richard
was talking about, but all I could see were rows of headstones.

“Make something like that? Pull in there,
Dale
Richard
!”

I had no idea what was going on. We had no family in this cemetery, no friends buried here. There was no reason for us to be pulling into the cemetery at all. But I kept quiet in the backseat as
Dale
Richard
maneuvered the large Suburban along the tiny roads in the cemetery and came to a stop in front of a small headstone, adorned with a beautiful Christmas wreath.

Rachel
Emily
piped up from her seat: “Mommy, where are we?”

“Don’t worry about it,
Rachel
Emily
, just sit back and read your book.”

Rachel
Emily
was more than happy to oblige. I watched in horror as my mother jumped out of the passenger door and ran up to the headstone. Mom stood in front of the headstone, took a good look around, and then snatched up the wreath and dashed back into the Suburban.

Dale
Richard
laughed. “That’s too pretty for a dead person to enjoy!” he said with a smile on his face.

Mom laughed along with him. “Won’t this look pretty on our front door?”

I sat in stunned silence. I had just witnessed my mother stealing flowers from someone’s grave. I couldn’t comprehend it. Why would my mother do this? Why not just have me steal a wreath from a store instead of taking from people who couldn’t even defend themselves?

“Drive around some more,
Dale
Richard
. Let’s see what else there is.”

I couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Stop it, Mom! You can’t steal things from dead people.”

Mom acted like she didn’t hear me, or maybe she really didn’t hear me. She was absolutely consumed with surveying the rest of the graveyard, eyeing the winter hanging baskets and winter flowers that adorned the graves. Soon, another wreath caught her eye.

“Stop,
Dale
Richard
!” Mom ordered. “Sarah, get out and get that wreath with the red balls on it.”

I looked out my window at the headstone. It was a child’s grave. I knew this because the child’s face was carved into the headstone. My heart broke. I couldn’t do it, and I knew that I had to stand up to Mom on this one.

“No, Mom, I won’t do it,” I said rather meekly.

Before I could get all the words out of my mouth, Mom had jumped over her seat and into the 2
nd
seat of the surburban.  . She slapped me across the face so hard it made my ears ring. “What do you mean, no? NO? Get out and get that wreath before we get caught! Do you want me to go to jail?”

It took every ounce of my energy not to say, “Actually, yes, I would love for you to spend the rest of your life in a rat-infested prison, right where you belong!” Instead, although I knew it would mean a harder beating, I said, “NO, Mom! I am not doing it!” I couldn’t comply with this order. Stealing roasts and clothes for Mom was one thing; stealing flowers from a child’s grave was another.

Mom grabbed me by the hair and yanked me over the seat (the surburban had 3 rows of seats). I screamed in pain and covered my face, not knowing what was coming next. As Mom dragged me over the backseat, my arm accidentally hit
Rachel
Emily
in the side of the head.
Rachel
Emily
cried out and
Dale
Richard
turned around, rage flaming in his eyes.

“Get that bitch out of the vehicle now!” he screamed.

“With pleasure,” Mom said.

I was still screaming in pain from the hair-pulling when I felt my legs being pulled out of the Suburban.
Dale
Richard
had gotten out and was yanking me out of the vehicle with such force that I thought my legs were going to break.

“Leave her fat ass here!” Mom shouted.
Dale
Richard
threw me onto the ground and got back into the Suburban.

“No, please don’t leave me here!” I screamed.

My screaming was to no avail.
Dale
Richard
slammed his foot down on the accelerator and took off out of the cemetery with Mom and
Rachel
Emily
. I was left there in the cold next to this child’s grave, watching as my family drove away. I had no idea where I was or how far away I was from the farmhouse. So I sat and waited and cried. For the first time, I wished I were dead like the child whose grave I was sitting by.

“Maybe if I were dead,” I thought, “they would love me.” This was the first time in all the years of beating and ridiculing that I had ever wanted to give up on living.

It may have been forty-five minutes or it may have been two hours before I saw the Suburban pull back into the cemetery. I was numb from the tops of my ears to the tips of my toes. No one said a word to me as I crawled into the backseat and curled into a ball to warm up. As a matter of fact, no one said a word to me for the rest of the day. We drove back to the farmhouse, and I got out of the Surburban and headed down to the barn to feed the horses.

Suicidal thoughts were racing through my head. I kept thinking about my family leaving me alone, in the cold, in a graveyard as punishment for not stealing a Christmas wreath from a child’s headstone. Then I thought about that child, wondered how he had died, and eventually smiled to myself. “I won!” I realized. “They didn’t get to steal that wreath. I WON!”

The suicidal thoughts left my head as I realized that although I was numb, hungry, sore, and cold, I had fought for a child who couldn’t fight for himself. I had done the right thing and stood up to my tyrannical parents.

“Maybe it will be a Merry Christmas this year after all!” I thought.

Chapter 7

Melissa sees …

It was a beautiful spring day at the farmhouse. The birds were singing and the sweet smell of hay wafted through the air. I was saddling up one of the horses to go for a ride when
Rachel
Emily
came running up, her long hair streaming behind her and her eyes wild.

“Sarah!”
Rachel
Emily
cried out. “We’re moving again!”

Joy surged through my veins. Finally, we were going to get off that farm? It was too good to be true. “Do you know where?” I asked
Rachel
Emily
excitedly.

“I-t-t-t’s-s-s a h-h-house across from Daddy’s work,” she stuttered.
Rachel
Emily
had developed a stuttering problem, rather severe at times. She had also started sleepwalking almost every night. Mom claimed that
Rachel
Emily
stuttered because of playing Nintendo games, but I knew that
Rachel
Emily
stuttered because of the violence and craziness she witnessed on a daily basis. My heart had softened toward
Rachel
Emily
, knowing that she was dealing with my abuse in her own way. In a way, I felt responsible for her stuttering problem.

I smiled at
Rachel
Emily
and took the saddle off the mare. “We’ll have to do this later, Daisy Mae!” I said. I put Daisy back into the pasture and followed
Rachel
Emily
into the farmhouse.

Mom was on the phone with one of her boyfriends. “Walnut, Illinois—some little town out in the middle of nowhere, but right across the street from
Dale
Richard
’s work. Well, of course I’ll try to see you …” Mom turned and noticed us standing there. She angrily waved us out of the room so she could have her privacy.

“Walnut?” I thought. I had never heard of that town before, but if it had people within walking distance, I was going to be happy!

I was now fourteen, hitting puberty, becoming interested in boys, and dying for companionship beyond the farm animals. Mom had let my hair grow out some. I had gotten taller and leaner, and the rest of my body was starting to take the form of a woman. But it seemed that the taller and more shapely I got, the more violent my mother became.

Mom had moved on from calling me “loser” and “bitch” to making up nicknames that tortured me mentally. Mom would now kick me in the kidney area during beatings and scream “Kidney Kate!” in reference to  kidney problems I’d had when I was younger. As my lips got fuller and my face filled out, she would pull on my lips and scream “Nigger Lips!” As my legs and rear end changed, “Thunder Thighs!” and “Bubble Butt!” would be yelled in my face.

Rachel
Emily
wasn’t immune to the name-calling, either. When
Rachel
Emily
stuttered and embarrassed Mom in public, Mom would mock
Rachel
Emily
all the way home, imitating her stuttering and calling her “Stuttering Sue.” This broke my heart. More than once, I took a beating for standing up to Mom when she was mocking
Rachel
Emily
at the dinner table.

Knowing that we would be moving to an actual town, with actual neighbors, made my heart sing. Neighbors meant that Mom would have to cut back on the beatings. Neighbors meant possible girlfriends and a maybe even a new “Debbie.” I wouldn’t be so desperately lonely anymore. This couldn’t be better news!

Just as before, we were packed up and ready to move in less than a week. We had to sell all the farm animals, and that week during my chores I said good-bye to them all and spent some extra time with them. Each of those animals held a special place in my heart. They had helped me through my toughest times on the farm. I knew I would miss them very much and never forget them. I put fresh spring flowers on Indy’s and the cat’s graves behind the barn and said my good-byes to them also.

Finally, after five days of nonstop packing, we were ready to go.
Dale
Richard
backed out of the driveway and I took one more look out of the Surburban window.  I would never forget this farmhouse—never forget the horrors and torture I had endured there. But I was still alive! I had made it, and now I could begin the next chapter in my life.

During the forty-five minute drive to Walnut, there was very little talking going on. Mom was sulking,
Dale
Richard
just drove and listened to the radio, and
Rachel
Emily
and I sat and stared out the window.

As we got closer to Walnut, my heart began to race. I could see a little park, the water tower, businesses, and lots of little houses. It looked like heaven, and I couldn’t wait to get to our new home.

Dale
Richard
made a couple of turns down some side streets and came to a stop in front of our new home. It was a little white house, with a garage on the corner. There was a flower garden in the front and a little deck out to the side. I could already see kids my age playing and hanging out in their front yards, looking and pointing at the new neighbors that had just pulled up.

“Home sweet home!”
Dale
Richard
said cheerfully.

I jumped out and took a deep breath. “It smells like sausage and cheese!” I said.

“There is a cheese factory right down the street,”
Dale
Richard
said as he opened up the back of the U-Haul.

“Could this be any more perfect?” I wondered.

Mom finally dragged herself out of the front seat and stood in the front yard. She took a good look around. “Well, isn’t this just great,” she said loudly. She gave
Dale
Richard
a dirty look and grabbed the house keys from him.
Rachel
Emily
and I could barely contain our excitement as Mom opened the door to our new home.

It was an extremely small house, but to me it was just perfect.
Rachel
Emily
and I had our own rooms, and there was a cute little kitchen with a window that looked out into the backyard. Out the front door was a park and
Dale
Richard
’s work right across the street.