That first year that I lived with my aunt and uncle was amazing. After the turmoil I had been in during the previous years, it felt good to be settled in one place. It felt good to go to the same school all year and make real friends. I felt safe. I wanted to stay there.

That summer my mom decided she wanted me back home with her. She was still living with her boyfriend*. I was still terrified of him. I didn’t realize when I went to visit her that she was going to make me stay. Once I was back at her house she told me I wasn’t going back to live with my aunt. She said she only agreed to one school year and now I was going to live back at home with her.

It was a house I had never been to before. It was in a new area of the valley that I didn’t know. I had no friends. Living in the house were my mom, her boyfriend, my older brother, and younger brother. Being there felt like I was in a foreign country where I was terrified of what would happen to me.

My mom wasn’t my mom. The days were spent with clients coming in and out of the house. They met with her in a special room where she would do readings with them. Before the scheduled appointment, mom would go into her bedroom, put on a white karate gi, and channel** a spirit that would counsel with the client.

My brothers were usually watching movies or playing video games. I was just there. All I could think about was finding a way to escape before my mom’s boyfriend did something to me… or my mom hurt me***.

I spent most of my time huddled in a corner in the bedroom with my blankie that was constantly soaked with tears. When mom and her boyfriend were busy with clients, I would sneak out of my room and go unplug the phone and bring it into my bedroom. Every time I did it, I was scared I would get caught, and worried about what would happen to me when I was. I would call my aunt collect and beg her to come and get me. I felt like I was going to die. I had no hope. I just wanted to disappear in that corner.

After weeks of this routine, my aunt finally got my mom to agree to let me and my two brothers go up north to her house for a visit. The understanding was that we would spend a week there, I would pack up all my things, and the following weekend my other aunt would drive us back down to mom’s house.

I’ll never forget how I felt when I finally saw my aunt and I was in her car driving away. It’s something that is impossible to put into words. Looking back, I think I was in shock from the trauma of those weeks feeling like I was trapped with no way out. I just stared out the window. It’s like I was holding my breath all that time and finally I was able to gasp and get some air. But there was damage. I couldn’t just start breathing normally… especially since I knew that I was supposed to turn around and go back a week later.

That first night back at my aunt’s, I just remember laying on the bed in a trance like state of softly crying, and my body going between feeling stiff and like I was convulsing and couldn’t fully control what my arms were doing. I kept repeating, “I can’t go back, I can’t go back, I can’t go back…”. My aunt comforted me and told me I wouldn’t have to go back.

The day came when I was supposed to go back to my mom’s with my brothers. I felt panic and told my aunt I couldn’t get in the car. She said I didn’t have to. My brothers were confused when I didn’t get in the car with them. I remember my older brother being angry.

That afternoon, I started my period for the first time. I remember feeling so thankful that it hadn’t happen while I was at my mom’s. I imagined how horrific it would have been, being on my own to figure out what to do, and that it might have signaled to my mom’s boyfriend that I was a woman now and fair game.

A few hours later, the phone call came. My aunt talked to my mom first. I have no idea what was said. The phone was handed to me. She yelled. She was angry. She said hateful things and called me a f-ing bitch. I had never been called something like that before… and the fact that it came from my mom, sent the sting even deeper. Disbelief. I felt hated and like a piece of trash for deceiving her. I knew I was the worst daughter in the world. Then she hung up on me.

That was the last time she ever talked to me about going back to live with her. A year later, she sent my youngest brother to also come live at my aunt’s house…

*This is the same boyfriend referred to in Blue Tile and Time After Time. She eventually married him.

**My mom had become involved in metaphysical beliefs, channeling, energy work, tarot cards, crystals, readings, etc. several years prior. Her involvement continued to grow as time went on. This wasn’t the first time I had seen her do channeling work. It scared me. I didn’t understand it. All I knew was that her mannerisms were different and so was her voice. I didn’t know if it was her or not. I just knew it didn’t feel good.

***The truth is, I worried that she might channel a different spirit that was evil and would hurt me or my brothers. I viewed her as not having control over her body or her decisions.

One of my previous posts titled, An Object, is actually based on the experience in this story and my feelings that connect me so deeply to the movie The Abolitionist.