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The Trauma Parade

Originally Published:

3/4/2016.

It has been 28 years since I escaped my
Kidnaping.

Wednesday, March 2, 2016, I visited the site where it all began.
*(As well as the house I lived at where the year long pain occurred).

Everything in between was different.
Stop lights, more parents, safety.

My Memories, the same:
Walking home from Third Grade, heading west bound toward the
Memorial Rock as a Silver Hatchback approached me.

The driver screaming out my first name, informing me to get in the car with four other men.
I walked faster as my eight year old body could.
I had already experienced his pedophile wrath, and I knew what awaited me inside that silver car with plastic red bucket seats.

He persisted.
Putting the car in Gear 1 to follow my footsteps away.
His way of controlling my fear.

As I looked at the car creeping beside me, I could see the faces of the other 4 men.
One, belonging to his best friend.
The other three, strangers.
One of the strangers spoke,
‘Just grab her and go.’

As the driver threatened to tell if I didn’t get into the car with them.

I yelled,
Where am I going to sit?

And from their facial responses, I took off running, to save my life.

As I ran, I knew inside my childhood heart, I would have been gang raped and in a dumpster.

I made it safe to my friend’s house who gave his secret to me
(He had a hidden go-cart when he had to escape the violence inside his home).
I never found the go-cart, but the
Police and the driver’s Father located me walking alone down one of the busiest streets in town.
I was returned right back into the Trauma Parade.

image

The Driver became a repeat/violent Offender,
NEVER spending a second of his predacious life incarcerated.
*(He even had multiple children of his own, one he harmed when he was a child).
The U.S Judical System could care less about the Safety of Children
(Especially, during the Reagan Administration).

So, as an Adult Educator, I became a
Licensed State Mandate Reporter so any child in my former Classrooms would never have to experience becoming the unknown from the Trauma of Sexual Abuse.

*The violence actually began when I came home from school (third grade) and found him and his friend (from the car) in the process of attacking my brother who was only three at the time.
I fought them off until they both overpowered me.
That day, would become the first day of my Year of Hell.

‘Whatever you’re looking for
Hey, don’t come around here no more
Stop walking down my street
Don’t come around here no more
Who you expect to meet?
Don’t come around here no more
And whatever you’re looking for
Hey don’t come around here no more.’ Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers


1 Comment

  1. Thank You for sharing!

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