(1)
When I first came to my current foster placement, my foster mom was in her 60’s, physically active, was working from home, taking care of her grandchildren often, cooking often, hosting her family dinners, very active in the community, very active socially, etc …

Within the first year of me being here, I was abused often by her grandson. He would beat me with a belt, say terrible things to me, forced me to do things I didn’t want to do( I don’t remember what, or perhaps I do and just blocked it out). I remember him ordering me around, and beating me whenever.

Foster mom sometimes needed someone to watch me while she went away, and usually I was made to go over with that son and his family.

Often times, he and his younger sister would have a friend of their family babysit. So often, she was there. She caught him in the act…She and his parents were only chastising him out of concern for him. I kept hearing them say that she could sent you to jail. That I could have messed up his life.
That he mustn’t hit females because they can mess up his life.

When his parents and the family friend had spoken to me .they did similarly as my former foster parents. They begged me not to tell. They promised me that he wouldn’t do it again. That he didn’t mean it. They tried to bribe me ..they were offering money and food.

I was still small and wasn’t eating much.

I’ve been abused in various ways my whole life….I just wanted them to stop talking about it. I just wanted them to move past it. I have normalized abuse now and it is treated as a regular occurrence to me. Whenever it happens, I just take it and accept it. My mindset just wonders how long until it’s going to take them to finish, so I can move on with the day. I am weak. I am weaker. Survival means being acclimating and accommodating.I know resistance is futile.

I get uncomfortable when predictability becomes unpredictable.

The grandson was caught in the act, I never told on him. I was just going along with it. He stopped after that.

There was a neighborhood boy who was having trouble in life, that one of foster mom’s son tried to incorporate him into his family unit..and tried to show him a “better” life and often took him into his home to spend time with his family and his stepson (the grandson that had beaten me) . All three of us are the same age. They would hang out often.

One weekend I was sent over their house along with the neighborhood guy because foster mother was going away to visit family.

I don’t understand why the son and daughter in law thought it was appropriate for all 3 of us to share a room together, but that is what happened. I don’t understand why they didn’t This happened during the first year that i arrived.

(2) I don’t understand why they allowed their 1 year old daughter sanctuary and provided peace, but not me. I could have slept on the floor of her room..I wouldn’t have minded. Biological will always “trump” over non.. and also foster children are stigmatized and perhaps they didn’t really want her around me.

There were bunk beds in the room, and I hate heights but I was made to sleep on the top. The two guys slept on the bottom.

After the stepson was asleep ( always assumed he was ..but maybe he was awake listening) the neighborhood guy climbed to the bed, woke me up, told me not to say anything, took off my pajama bottoms, covered my mouth off and on…

threatened me, and had sex with me a few times that night. I didn’t want to and was fearful but never said anything. I just went along with it. I don’t know if constitutes as rape because I didn’t say no. I went along with it.

He was concerned about the time and worried about getting caught, so he stopped. Climbed back down and went to sleep.

Before he went to sleep, he told me to go to the bathroom, urinate, wipe myself, bring him the air freshener. I did as instructed.

Then he went to bed. I stayed awake. At 5am, foster mom son came in and woke the boys up because he was taking them to work with him then. I pretended I was asleep and heard them all get ready and converse with one another.

My body betrayed me, and I fell asleep soon after they left.

I had just turned 12, he had turned 13 a week prior.

I remember the ride home (never felt I had a home anywhere, but for this sake I’ll call it that), with the three of us crammed in the back seat together. I was masking my anxieties, PTSD, and panic flare-ups as I sat there. I was relieved when i arrived home.

When I started going back to the same junior high as previously enrolled when living with former foster parents which wasn’t very far from new home…

For some reason, the foster program, and foster mom forced me to be chaperoned to and from school. I knew the way, didn’t need chaperoning, and there was nothing they could do to prevent a foster child from finding a way and eventually running away, or passing trying to… especially one with “liberties and privileges”.

I wasn’t going to escape.I had decided beforehand that unless foster mother, and/or the program requested I’d be removed.. I’d remain no matter what untill 18 and flee. I was tired of shuffling through places ..and I wanted whatever stability or similar I could acquire.

So they made that same neighborhood guy chaperone me. To and from. He hated it, and would often leave me behind, be tarty often. When he followed through ..he didn’t want to be seen with me, told me to walk in back or further behind…creating distance. I hated it as well..and would often come home by myself.

During one time when we were on our way to school. . He walked along side me. He waited until we were out of sight of our homes, and he told me that we weren’t going to school. He made me go into a nearby house. There was another guy out age, who attended the same school, named “T” who lived there.

T opened the door and we went in. Appearantly T and D ( that neighborhood guy) skipped school often together. T’s mother left early before school, to go to work..and left him home alone, thinking he’d attend school regularly. It was just the two of them residing there, and T often got away with it.

I was trying to turn back around, go out the door to school but I was forced inside. I kept absent-mindedly saying that I needed to leave to go to school, and that I didn’t want to be late and get into trouble.

D told me that I wasn’t going to get into trouble, that I needed to stay and sit down. He said that he could see that I needed a break like they did. He said that he had known that I’ve been treated like crap my entire life, and he just wanted me to get a break. He told me his grandma treated him badly and nagged him a lot ..so he knew how it felt. He told me his grandma would tell him that he’d never amount to anything in life.

T said his mother treated him similarly.

I asked D how did he know of my mistreatment. He said it should be obvious to me that his grandma and my foster mom are friends and talk. He said his grandma told him what foster mom said.

He said, see they don’t even respect you, nor your privacy. Nor do they care. They’re spreading your business around. They’re telling things that shouldn’t be told by them..only by you.

T agreed and said it was fu@ked up.

They reeled me in. I dropped my guard, and sat. Feeling relaxed, bonded and thinking we “misfits” should stick together, how this may be the start of lifelong friendships. I remember that day, the word “misfits” floating around my head often.

We watched TV, ate, D and T would talk to each other but not me.

A while later, D tells me that he was telling T about that night we had sex, and how much we both enjoyed it…and how T wanted a piece of me too.

D asked me if I liked what we did and liked him.. out of fear, I agreed to both.

D told me to lie on the floor and take off my pants. So I did…and they took turns with me off and on for 3 hours.

By the time they were finished, it was closing time at school and safe to return home. D stayed with T. Before I left, D asked me if I enjoyed myself. Out of fear I agreed. He kissed me and said that was good because we’re doing the same the next day. That if I were to ever tell, he’d hurt me ..

Then I left to return home. . The next day it happened and two more boys were there.

It happened a few more times with just the three of us before it stopped.

I started heading to school earlier to avoid them. I told foster mom that I am okay with going by myself now, that I knew the way. I also told her that D sometimes overslept, and that would make us late. That I hated being tardy. Foster mom didn’t object.

I told foster program that I could go by myself at 12 years old, that there were a lot of people going to work and school then, and that they aren’t preparing me for the world by trying to shelter me.

They said they’d give it a try. That was the last time I was escorted to school by him.

Since foster mom and his grandma were friends, there were times when foster mom sent me to her house to give and receive various items. Occasionally his grandma wasn’t home, and whenever that was the case, he’d pull me inside and have his way with me…one time she was upstairs, and he made me lie face down on the dinning room carpeted floor, covered my mouth, and had his way with me . .

Another time, he pinned me against the wall, told me that if I ever told or made any noise, he’d delete me, or he’ll just lie enough to get me removed from foster moms home. He would tell them I was skipping school and was having sex with neighborhood boys often.

He told me they’d never believe me, they would believe him. That I was just a foster child, and that he was had been practically family and had been around longer than me.

After that time, foster mom would ask me why I took longer than needed returning home with the items. That it was just a few doors away. I told her that her friend wasn’t home sometimes and sometimes D wouldnt remember where his grandma placed the things and would make me wait outside.

His grandma was working at that time, and the explanation was believable.

Foster mom figured that he was having company over when she wasn’t there, and stopped having me retrieve things when his grandma wasn’t there. She would make sure she was there before sending me. His grandma usually met me at the door.

Around that time, rumors and allegations were circulating around the neighborhood that D was sexually assaulting a few young women, and getting into mischief. It was going around that he was skipping school and robbing houses in the neighborhood..while people were working.

As always his grandma as badly as he treated her, she always coddled and enabled him. Quite often people would come to her about his behavior, and she would say that she didn’t believe them. She has always defended him. The whole world according to her was blaming and convicting an innocent man.

I suspect this is why foster mom prevented me from going there while he was home.

One time foster mom allowed me to have an old bicycle that was rarely used in the garage. I use to ride it sometimes around the neighborhood….that was until D found out and would make me get off and would ride it himself a few times.

He always brought it back in a timely fashion.. until he took it overnight and swore foster mom would never know. That he’d have it back early morning.

He never brought the bike back. I had nervously conjured up a fib for foster mom. When she asked, I told her that I lost the key to the garage and left the bike outside by the door. That I thought it was okay to leave there because it was in a secluded dark spot…and that somebody must have stolen it.

Foster mom and her family have always believed that I am severely “mentally” and intellectually unequipped, so the fabrication was believed and I was punished.

The next evening foster moms son and daughter in law came over heated and fuming. Turns out D had stolen a lot of things from them during a visit, and they came to confront his grandma and him.

Foster mom threw in that he probably was the one that he stolen my bike. Her son chimed in and said probably did.

So they did. They told us that his grandma kept saying that it wasn’t him and that he didn’t do it. So they asked to check his room.. when they did they found a lot of items of theirs stuffed in garbage bags underneath the bed, and a few brand new outfits they had recently purchased their son.

They retrieved the items, his grandma apologized for D and begged them to still be in his life. They both refused, and told her that was the end of their relationship with him.

They told him not to call them anymore for anything. That he wasn’t allowed in their home and to stay away from their son and daughter. That he was a bad seed and a bad influence.

I felt really badly for D when I heard some of the things they said to him.

I understood that he was just responding to trauma in different ways. That things were a cry for help. I understood how it felt to hear those things, and be just casted out for some decisions tied to coping mechanisms.

…or perhaps it was just whom he was meant to evolve into.

I’ve heard similar all my life, and it doesn’t feel good to hear. It eats at you. Eventually the implosion becomes uncontained and the explosion is vile…and it mimicks all the things they said you were, you become.

It really bothers me to this day that they said he was unredeemable and would never change.

About 2 months later, tragedy entered my life again, and the destruction would last forever.

To be continued.

Thank you everyone for everything