I watched her being beaten. I watched her fighting him off. I watched him rip her clothes, force her down and, ultimately, force himself upon her.
I watched it
and I did nothing
in my own house.
I can't even remember her fucking name.
People were grabbing and yelling and hitting others and chaos was in full effect. There were way too many people in that block and too many unstable emotions mixing.
One night, I see a couple police officers come in, probably to feast on some of that high quality gourmet steak, only they didn't. They went to talk to the manager who then turned and pointed at me. I must have looked like a deer in the headlights standing there with dirty dishes in my hands. They escorted me to an empty banquet room where they placed me under arrest and walked me out in cuffs. My career as a professional slop waitress was crushed in an instant.
As a very young child I was taught that nothing was given for free. There was a price for everything. If I wanted to go to a friends house, if I wanted someone to come over, if I wanted a new toy, if I whatever...I just had to be there to give in order to get.
Love was not based on emotion, it was just a word. "Love" was what you did to get what you wanted.
The after pain of the cut was sort of therapeutic. A constant reminder that the pain I was feeling was real. That I was still there - I could still feel. And the thing is - I had control of that pain. I could decide how much to cut, when to do it, where on my body and when it would stop. It was the only thing in my life I had control over. It was my goto drug for many, many years.
I know, without a doubt that everyone will fuck you. Every One. I don't care who you are.
Don't get me wrong, aside from the dark and dirty secrets, my grandparents were good to me, they provided well for me, and I loved them because they were all I had and I knew no different. They were FAR better than the alternative of growing up with the people who gave birth to me.