I came home from school and it was a normal evening at our house. The girls and I rarely came home together from school. They were already home and like usual in recent years our mother was no where in site. We would make what we could for dinner and the girls would cook if there was something they knew and we had. Two very low percentage options. We loved macaroni and cheese growing up and it never tired. That though was a luxury and a special treat so we were always sure to never be late or it was tough luck, gone, nothing left, to bad. It didn’t keep long in our house and if you wanted some you better be there period, there were no leftovers. We all most always made the dinner bell and we would fight over who got more and it was real drama! It was nice to have and always one of our favorites. Most of the time it was fend for yourself and that was just second nature. I never did but, I know that my sisters would ask people for food. That said, there was no shame in our game.
We all did our own thing or I did my thing and the girls did there’s. One of the things that I like to do and have never told anyone was something I learned while spending time in my bedroom on punishment. I had bunk beds in my room. The bunk beds were the full-size wood single beds and took up most of my bedroom. I still hadn’t one friend sleep over by the time we moved. They were really used by my mothers friends. We would host a couple of parties a week and it was just our lives. It was normal and we lived our lives as children like it was not even there. It was always drinking and playing cards. Everyone was either drunk and /or high or on something. The music was good and we would interact when we felt like it. Our mother was always intensely messed up and not much supervision. Most of the time we didn’t interact and would spend the time in our rooms. I would only notice if I was awakened by the bunk beds shaking and people moaning. I didn’t know what that was then but, I do now.
When I was punished it was torture and I could not sit still or let alone take a nap. I was always made to try as much as I hated to take a nap. One time I laid on the top bunk and I failed at taking a nap. Instead I tossed and turned until I almost feel off of the top bunk! It scared me and the adrenaline was intoxicating. I would learn how to get the adrenaline rush in many ways but this was the first. I would roll to the edge of the bed to the point of rolling off without falling. It was such a rush and exciting and would allow me to escape. I did it until one day I couldn’t stop myself. I pushed it farther and farther to get that thrill. I rolled off of the top bunk and in my last thought I didn’t allow myself to put my arms out and fell to the floor without trying to break the fall. Wow, I was scared and thought I just injured myself. I wondered what was going to be wrong? I bounced off the floor and landed again. I laid there as it went through my head over an over again. It scared me almost to the point of seeing my life flash before my eyes. I liked it and rolled off that top bunk many times and never reached out to catch myself. I was a true life serious adrenaline junky at 6 years old and I never did injure myself.
The evening was turning into night and it was getting late. We were all getting ready for bed when my mother pulled up and came into the house screaming and yelling. “ You kids need to get up we’re moving”! she said going through the whole trailer yelling and ranting on about her issues and screaming at us children. We were numb to screaming by now as it was a regular thing. My mother would get drunk and make all of us pack our bags and get ready to be taken to the state. She was “sick of us kids” and getting rid of us! We would pack and go wait as we prayed she would pass out and she finally would. She wasn’t drunk or on drugs now, she was serious. The biggest issue was not that it was late night but, that we only had a car to move a house filled with years of possessions. We packed only our most prized possessions and enough necessities to fit into a trunk that needs the same space for everyone else. It was us four kids, my mom and her two friends. A guy my mother ran around with and a girlfriend that was drunk all the time and never remembered what she did. Us kids were just going on autopilot and still not sure it wasn’t another rant. We had friends that we never got to say goodbye or talk too ever again. We never seen anyone from South Dakota again. We left the trailer like we were home and just out for jaunt. We never went back and never seen our house in South Dakota again.
We kept the process going and finally all piled into the car. We were off and not sure of where we were going or if we were going to go back. We drove all night and stopped when we had to. I was prone to car sickness and needed to stop and vomit frequently. I fell asleep and when I awoke we were in Denver Colorado and it was now our new home. My days in South Dakota were in the past now and this was a whole new world. The life we came from was nothing compared to the lives we all lived over the next 5 years. We thought we had it bad then, just wait.
pg. 8
This boys story. 