Changes

I began spending more time with my mother after the police incident. I was happy to be with her, but always cautious. I loved to paint in those paint by water books. I was in her small, clean apartment and asked for a glass of water to paint with. She snapped that she wasn't getting up to get me any water and told me to get the fuck out of her face. A few hours later, she brought me a cup of water. I'd already forgotten I wanted to paint and said thank you and drank the water. I hadn't had anything to drink or eat and was so thirsty. My mom then said let me know that was water to paint with and now I wouldn't get to paint because I drank the water. I knew she could give me more water if she wanted to, but that was her game. She was only 15 when she had me and I was nothing but pain in her ass.

By now my mom was probably 18 or 19 years old. She started dating someone new which was fine with me. My mom was much nicer when other people were around than when we were alone. I never held any delusions that my mom and dad would get back together and never really knew my dad. One thing I had learned with my mom though was that if you got hurt or sick she had a soft side. I was running through her apartment one day and got scraped just under my little boobie by a staple sticking out of the back of the recliner. I still have the scar now as a reminder that my mom could be nice on occasion. She cleaned the cut up and put a band-aid on it. Then she gave me a kiss and a banana. That was probably the first time I remember being kissed by my un-affectionate mother.

Anyway, as I said, my mother started dating a man who would become my sister's father. He seemed okay. He made my mom laugh and I knew as long as she was laughing she wasn't hitting. We soon moved to an apartment complex with him. My mom and he married and she got pregnant. During this time my mom started babysitting a little girl who lived in a nearby apartment. We'll call her Della. My mom started taking lessons from the Mormon Missionaries and they were nice enough when they came over. Our house was always spotless and smelled of bleach. Bleach fumed our house daily and burned my nose. It made my head hurt really badly. Della's mom worked at night so she would stay over at our house and slept in my bed with me. I really loved playing with Della, but Della peed in the bed which would horrify my mother.

No one wanted my mother to be on the war path and her new husband was no exception. After Della left one morning, my mother began bleaching down my bedroom. She was cussing and ranting and I just wanted to hide. Her husband took me into the bathroom and sat on the toilet fully clothed. He told me to bend over his lap and I asked why. He said he was going to punish me for wetting the bed. I told him I didn't wet the bed. He said that I was going to be punished worse now for lying. I laid myself over his lap to get my spanking. He pulled my pants down and I knew I was going to get a bare spanking .... or so I thought. I was tense and scared. But I didn't get a spanking that day. Mr. I-like-to-fuck-kids stuck a bar of soap up my ass. I had never felt pain like that and his other sweaty hand was over my mouth. "SSHHHH. Don't let your mother hear you". It seemed to go on forever, but in reality was only a few minutes. I never saw it coming, but KNEW I'd better never tell or he'd do it again. I also knew I'd better sleep in the floor when Della stayed over so I wouldn't get in trouble again. I knew this was a secret. Things were going to get dark. I wished I could go to my grandma's house, but I also knew better than to ask. I now blamed Della for my problems and began to hate her guts. This was her fault.