A Short Testimony of Abuse and Rescue
I was the eldest of four children. By the time I was 7, my parents’ divorce was finalized. To prevent my father’s visits, my mother packed us all up and left the state.
At first, her abuse was mostly mental. She took great pains to ostracize me from the family. I never understood why I was singled out, and I was afraid to ask. The physical abuse began when I was 10. In the beginning, it was only three or four times a week that she would beat me. After the beatings, she would run hot water in the bathtub, add salt and force me to sit in it while I was still bleeding.
As the months went by, the beating and torturing turned into a work of art for her. She tried several things, including thorny rose branches, a fishing pole, a bamboo broom before settling on a white electrical extension cord, which soon became red with my blood. By that time, the beatings were daily. I was 11.
My mother always quoted the Bible, “Spare the rod and spoil the child.” She began starving me and locking me in the closet, alone with only my thoughts and imagination. I would dream of killing her.
At the age of 13, while preparing a composition for school, I came across a book on state law with a section on child abuse. I told my school counselors that I was being abused. I was then removed from my home and placed in an emergency foster home.
Up to then, I didn’t know how close to death I was. I weighed 70 pounds; my height was only 4 foot 10; my skin tone was no longer brown but gray and yellow.
Living with a foster mother was a difficult transition. I was extremely introverted, and my outlook on life was very negative. I would always expect the worst; that way, I’d never be disappointed.
My foster mother stressed that independence and hard work would get what you needed from life. By the time I was 15, I was planning my “emancipation” at 18 and saving money. It was a problem, because I was allowed to have only $999.
Before I left, I received a phone call telling me about the availability of food stamps or government assistance. I hated that. My plans were to make it on my own without help of any kind. Twelve years later, I’m happy to say I’ve been successful at that.