by Red Widow

Created on: August 26, 2009

Memoirs: My Great, True, Personal garden story

" As a child things seem to be about joy and laughter. For some children living life is never complex, in-fact they may never see another's hardships." This is my great, true, personal garden story; It all began on May the 12th of 1984, I was 10 yrs. old and my life had slipped into the abyss of darkness. Although I had both Parents, only my mother was working while my father was chasing his next fix. Yes, my father was an addict and everything he touched was turned out. Your probably wondering what I mean about," Turned Out", well," it's when one turns another into an addict or one who tricks for money and drugs." My father intentions for his own children had already been written before they even knew it. Imagine turn your daughters into profit makers at tender ages, just to supply your own drug habit and never giving them anything; but taking everything that's sacred away from them.

My thoughts as a child was, "How could a father lay with his own daughter's, while laying with their mother?", " What kind of man does such a hideous thing and has no conscious?"

When I came through the door expecting to see my mother, all I seen was darkness from a fist....he hit me so hard I seen stars as my tiny body fell to the floor, he yelled," get the f*ck up....get the f*ck up!" I finally got up only to be continuously hit, my blood was gushing everywhere, he rendered no mercy. My father beat me down...like a pimp beats his hoes down.

The old saying is that," The truth will set you free," and it did exactly that...set me free. On June 18th of 1986, I seen my mother sitting in the kitchen so sadden. I walked in the kitchen to console her, when she turned to me for resolve and truth; and she asked me this question," Has your dad been touching you and your sister?", it was somehow easier to tell her how he was doing things with my sister rather to tell her what he had impeded upon me. The things he had done unto me was much harsher to swallow, then that in which he done to my sister in my mind. Before I told my mother I asked, " If you promise not to say it was me that told!", and she promised.

At sixteen I had grew tired of carrying the past around with me. Weeds was strangling everything in my garden that was resembling anything beautiful...scars of the past events would not allow anything to grow in my garden. I had to tare everything down this coward had done unto my self imagine...I had to tilt the grounds on my foundation and start planting seeds that was untainted. " Tainted garden brings fourth tainted produce", and " An untainted garden brings fourth good produce." It isn't no longer a said and unbarring story that I tell... It's a story of courage, strength, and change that I've obtained out of a tainted garden that has now been tilted into an untainted garden...with no distraught images.

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