"A Message From Deer" by Nikki

Over the distant hills,
In snow thickened grass,
I saw my vision,
I had found my path.

The sky opened up,
The sun beamed down,
All the animals,
Had gathered round.

They brought with them,
Stories of old,
My eyes opened up,
As my journey unfolds.

I listened intently,
With Spiritual ears,
The message was told,
By the spirit of deer.

The message she brought,
Was about defeat,
How all of my demons,
Would soon be beat.

To open my eyes,
My soul and heart,
No matter how hard,
It was soon to part.

To take special care,
To the messages shared,
As they will guide,
And assist me there.

To listen to whispers,
Wind songs in keys,
And secrets adrift,
That comes on the breeze.

Hind and gentle,
Alert and Keen,
I thanked her for the vision,
Tonight in this dream.

Nikki's Story

Okay, where do I begin to tell the horrors of one soul. **** BEWARE THIS MAY CAUSE TRIGGERS****

First I'm going to breathe and tell myself that I can do this. After all, "When we speak we are afraid our words will not be heard or welcomed. but when we are silent, we are still afraid. So it is better to speak."

So with that being said, here we go....

I guess you could say that I was born into a chaotic world of dysfunction, emotional abuse, drug abuse and spousal abuse. Both my parents, where addicts (IV) and us kids witnessed a lot of parties and drug/alcohol abuse. I can't say that we as kids didn't enjoy or look forward to these parties, we did. It got mom and dad off our backs, we ran ramped through the neighbourhood, out of control and never supervised.  So you can imagine the trouble we often found ourselves in when the police brought my brother and I home to my parents being completely strung out and now completely paranoid.

Needless to say, Child Protection was called and they apprehended my brother, sister and I. I was the middle child and deemed by child protection as an emotionally disturbed child, who had no boundries, an extreme risk taker and was not scared of any consequences.  Immediately, we were separated and put into different placements, we all awaited our outcome and the court date.  My brother who was older then I by 2 years was placed in a boys home. My sister who was 2 years younger, was placed in the hospital temporarily as she had cancer and they didn't have a suitable placement for her.  I was placed into an orphanage for emotionally disturbed children, with 100 other messed up kids and I was the youngest...a guinea pig you could say, for having children my age (4) there.

I can tell you, that I was completely overwhelmed by this place. I was alone, no friends, not a soul I knew and found myself often thinking of my siblings, wondering where they were and were they okay.  Our family court date was scheduled for 6 months later, in which time they could assess me, and hopefully my parents would get it together in that time.  Wishful thinking even then, I knew their drugs came first along with their new found popularity.

About 4 months into my stay, is when my first experience of sexual and psychological abuse, and absolute fear.  I was befriended by a male staff who was my one to one worker.  He was great at first, he visited with me, listened to me, heard my cries and seen the sadness of a lonely little girl.

That's when it happened....

He told me one day that he had a game he wanted to play.  He didn't really give it a name, said we could make up a name after playing it for awhile.  I was just excited to be paid attention too, it had been forever since someone had been nice and want to play with me.

It started by me being on his lap and he was sort of giving me a pony ride the way my daddy did when I was young before his addiction or so I thought.  Except I was sitting in the middle of his lap and he was moving up and down.  I won't disclose the details, as I'm sure we all get the picture and I wish not to trigger any other survivors.  This game continued for a few months and then it esculated, to having me touch him and so on. One day, he brought a friend with him, she was 12 and I knew her to see her as she lived there too.  He made us do things to each other and then would make me watch him have sex with her.  I knew then this was very bad and I felt so incredibly confused.  I knew I couldn't tell anyone because, they wouldn't believe me and he told me, if I ever told he would make sure that I never see my family again, especially my siblings.  I would never tell, seeing them again was the only thing that mattered to this now 5 year old child.

Court came and went many times and in that time I was made a crownward with NO access to my family until I was 18.  I was left in the orphanage and the abuse continued for another 3 years.  I remember once going to play therapy up the street and acting out what was happening to me.  I don't think I said anything, but I remember the play therapist being in his underwear as I had taken off his clothes.  The rest of play therapy is a "blank".

When I was 8, I was placed into my very first foster family - through a Christian organization.  I was the 2nd youngest and there were 3 older foster brothers.  I remember thinking, finally a family and now I can be safe.  That feeling was soon shattered, when I was taken in the shed by my new brothers, beaten up, tied down and brutally raped by the 3 of them.  The evidence was so evident on what had happened, and I went to my new mom to show her.  I was called a liar, a whore like my mother and it was clear to her that I had orchestrated the whole thing and now I'm crying wolf.  I was moved shortly thereafter, due to the marriage break down.  I was also informed that my sister was going to die soon.  I asked to see her and say goodbye and was denied being a crownward.  She passed and I never said goodbye nor was I allowed to go to her funeral.  I was never taken to a doctor for the rapes and the worker told me, that he heard it as I asked for it and then played the vicitm.  I have never forgotten what they said to me.  This placement only lasted 6 months, I was now 9 and on my way to a new family.

From the get go, I knew this new family was not the place I wanted to be.  I voiced this to the worker and told him I didn't want to live here, that their son and I didn't get along and I had a real bad feeling about the rest of them.  My pleas were ignored and I was placed there the follwing day.  Within the first 2 weeks, I had several fights with their son and was beaten up by their daughter (17) and their other long term foster daughter(19), for fighting with their brother.  I wasn't accepted at all by this family, if anything I was their scape goat and a pay check.  One night, I was taking a bath and I spilled a bucket of water on the floor. There was no tile on the floor, just plywood and it leaked down into the living room.   The next thing I knew, the bathroom door was kicked in and I was yanked out of the tub by my hair and dragged to my room.  I was ordered to get dressed and come downstairs. I got dressed and started to head downstairs but was thrown into the corner by my foster mom, both her and my foster dad stood there and he had one of their german shepards on a short leash, commanding her to attack me.  She would lunge at me, teeth baring and he would yank her back.  He was screaming at me and told me that all he had to do, was let this dog go and she would rip me apart.  That they would bury my body parts all over the farm and I would never be found. That I would just be another unlocated runaway and no one really cared anyway.  I was so scared that I literally crapped my pants.  I hid my soiled garmets under my bed and she (foster mom) found them and rubbed them in my face.  I had crap in my nose, mouth and scratch marks all over my face.  I ran that night, only to be picked up by the cops and returned to them.  That's when he started to sexually abuse me.  After one of these sexual incidents, his wife walked in and saw me in tears.  She asked him what happened and he said that I tried to grab him and seduce him.  She became enraged and beat me black and blue, I ran that night too.  Only to be caught again and returned, the abuse continued for 2 years, I had no where to go, no hopes of running as I was caught and thought prayer would save me. I remember praying on my knees every night and at church I prayed really hard, for God to make me a bird and fly me far far away from here.  Well, my foster parents were forgiven for their sins every Sunday, but God left me there to endure more abuse and carry the scars of their terrible sins.  I finally gave up and have never prayed since.  I was told shortly after, that my brother was killed in a car accident.  I was consumed with grief and such sadness.  I was also told that because I was a crownward with NO access, I would not be attending his funeral.  From this placement I was finally moved when they complained what a "BAD" influence I was on their son and daughter and how I had distrubed their family.

Then I was bounced from home to home (short term placements), running every chance I could and beaten when I was returned for making them look bad.  Finally I was placed into a lockdown facility for chronic runners.  I stayed there a year then made my break.  Upon being released I dropped off the radar of child protection.  At 12, I was now living on the streets, using IV drugs and prostituting to support my addiction.  I had become my parents and I just gave up giving a crap anymore.  This lifestyle contined and I was in and out of jail until I was 16.  I had found my birth mom at 15, I was all messed up, still on the streets and still addicted.  She was no longer using drugs, but was an alcoholic, she was remarried to a man 9 years older then me and she informed me that my brother was alive and in jail for 7 years.  All these years I was told my brother was dead only to find out he was alive.  Things were rocky with my mom, she had issues and I had issues but her husband had more issues than us combined.  He would always look at me, get in my personal space, overreach my personal boundries.  My mother viewed this as me trying to steal her man.  She cared not, that I had a girlfriend at the time and no interest in him or men at all.  No, this was all my fault and she kicked me out.  One night, when out with her drinking, I stayed at her place for the night.  While she slept passed out from the booze, he put a knife to my throat and raped me.  I left after, I never woke her and didn't talk to her until my son was born.  I got pregnant from her husband and gave birth to his son, whom I named Corey and loved so much.  I cared not from what evil he was born, he had nothing to do with that, and he needed me, loved me and finally I could love someone unconditionally without being hurt.

Well, God would rather I hurt.  My son died of SIDS when he was 4 months old and I was devasted, lost and confused.  After his funeral I got lost into the world of drugs and the sex trade once again.  At least this was predictible, I would either live or die, and I was so hoping for death, but it never came.  My mother and I lost communication after Corey's death, she moved out west and I stayed in the city.  I stayed messed up and in the lifestyle for 3 more years then I went out West to try and start over. 

I met a man out there and together we started a new way of living.  We had some problems, but it was a lot better than where I was.  I got pregnant with our daughter, I was clean and had a straight job.  Jail was a thing of my past and I was stepping up. That's when everything fell apart.  My mom was dying with cancer, my brother was released and committed another felony, my boyfriend and I split due to spousal abuse and spousal rape and I headed back to the city with my beautiful daughter.

It took some time to get set up when we got back, so I went on assistance to help me out financially.  That's when the harrassment started, Child Protection found me through welfare and popped by to see me and my child.  Right away, they wanted to apprehend her as they felt she was in danger as my first child "apparently" died of SIDS.  They had the documents from the medical examiner that it was definately SIDS, but they decided to use it to their advantage and make me feel guilty and question my parenting.  This harrassment and me running from them continued for 3 years, when they finally caught up with me and apprehended my child.  They cared not, that I had cleaned up my life and she was well looked after and loved.  Nope, they said my past was something for them to be concerned with.  No accountiblity for what they did to me in my past - I love how they justify their jobs, their mistakes and how they can sleep at night.  I was left with a horrible decision...let her go into the system that killed my soul or give her up for adoption to have a better life - one that I could never give her.  I chose adoption, there was no way I was going to let them do to her, what they did to me. I said goodbye to my beautiful daughter, my heart was broken and I was finally defeated, this was the last time I would feel her soft kisses on my cheek, or her butterfly kisses goodnight. I had to do what was best for her.

Being defeated and broken, I again returned to the streets, drugs and prostitution.  I was in and out of jail, for assaults, drugs, prostitution and breech of bails.  This continued for 4 years, until I was arrested and charged with attempted murder on a sex trade customer.  I was sentenced to 4 years and in that time, I finally found a way 2 live and that living the good life was possible.  I walked out with no parole, clean and ready to embark on a new journey.  I attended NA meetings, I saw a therapist and was admitted into a trauma center for sexual abuse.  There I worked through my trauma, addiction and abuse.  I gave it all back to the universe, let it go as it no longer served me any purpose.  I wasn't living in addiction, I was barely functioning and barely alive.  I had to numb those feelings and memories somehow and found it in that life.  I did their 4 month program and have been clean ever since.

Today, I have a 14 year old son who is my purpose in life.  I realized that I couldn't wait for my purpose as I was the purpose.  I am on my path and everyday is a spiritual journey in discovering self, and loving me for me.  I found peace in writing poetry, working with clay, and riding/working with horses.  I have also found a lot of peace on this site.  It's an awesome way to release, and I thank the great spirit for people like Christine every day.  We are survivors and we will not give in.   I have read the other stories and my thoughts and healing energy is with each and everyone of you.

Thanks for listening and taking the time to read my story, it feels good to be heard.

Nikki's Poem 

Remember as a child,
All the little games you played,
Things to help the pain,
Make the hurting go away.

Remember your mom yelling,
It's all because of you,
Then dad would hit and hurt you,
Oh what's a child to do?

Thinking it's your fault,
Your fault that they were mad,
And how this doesn't happen to good girls,
Only to the girls that were bad.

And in your room with your dolls,
You ask them what was wrong,
Do you remember hurting?
Have you been hurting long?

They always gave you answers,
The same answers as before,
Then they'd often show you,
Where they hurt - where they were sore.

Remember the Lightening,
Remember the Thunder roar,
You tried hard to hold it in,
Yet, you felt the teardrops pour.

Where does a child run to,
Where do they go and hide,
Underneath their sheets - where they think they're safe,
And they silently cry.

And when mom and dad are gone,
The guilt and pain in their heads,
For the hurtful things dad had done,
And the hurtful things mom said.

How long does it take the pain to go,
How long for the wounds to heal,
You pray to God it's a nightmare,
But He knows its very real.

And when you start to heal.
The pain and guilt, weigh like a ton,
The battle to healing is just begining,
But in the end YOU'VE won!

Linda's Story 

When I posted my vote I was so shocked at the results; yet strangely comforted by all the rest of the women and I guess men who have gone to court (in my case 4 years) only to be so defeated. I felt so violated all over again. I was not personally molested; however I should have been. My daughters were aged 2 and 7 years of age when the molestation occurred. They were video-taped and my 7 year old gave testimony in criminal court against the advice of the district attorney at that time. The jury was summoned in the court room and in less than five minutes the defense played some tape that my ex-husband had made of my 7 year old daughter "recanting" her story during a "supposedly supervised visit." This judge called for the jury to leave the room and the case was thrown out because "the tape" had raised more than reasonable doubt that the perpertrator had not done the crime. We had waited 4 years for this criminal trial to come to court! In less than what seemed like 5 minutes, it was all over; however it was not over. WE moved to civil proceedings where finally he VOLUNTARILY GAVE UP HIS PARENTAL RIGHTS when he saw that he would only be allowed supervised visits with his children until they were 18 years old. He did this to avoid paying child support. He made my life a living hell after court; however, I moved, sought other employment as a medical social worker in a different city, and my children have receiveded periodic counseling throughout their life. You never really get over abuse. You choose to soar above it and not let it control you; therefore you win and and regain the pieces of your life. Thanks for allowing me to share. What a great web-site. Wish you had been there back in the '80's!! See it still remains with you--you just make it part of the tapestry of your life!

PAST FIVE
A short story by Brian Mey
©brianmey 2009

PREFACE
This book is dedicated to all my facebook friends whom made my days lovelier
A special thank you to Ms. Jane Long
Special dedication to a very dear friend Azalina Abdullah whom once told me “don’t’ leave your talent to waste”
and Samantha Jean

 1
July 21st.
All he could hear was buzzing sounds inside his head in the stillness of pre dawn.  “What in the WORLD have I done?” Broody muttered  as he leant his seemingly weightless body on a wall he so eagerly wanted to piss on. A stray dog growled nearby sensing his presence. Not wanting to draw anymore unwanted attention, Broody limped to his bike and cycled aimlessly around the neighborhood seeking solace in the stillness of that hour, but soon surely the sun would rise and “What then am I going to undo the calamities of the past five hours?” kept resounding in his head.  He has always been lucky, but this time….. Broody is a boy of his past, no now, never the future. His heartbroken mother gave him life on a warm July midnight abandoned by her husband at Dconception hospital run by a renowned ruthless Doctor Akken who defiantly turned down a prestigious award last year. Could it be that April’s constant thoughts of aborting her flesh made ‘Junior’ a name  his mother likes to call him, felt so detached from her since then. Bright and talented her little boy came to age, yet mysteriously distant and darkly quiet most of the time. But one thing kept April smiling and hoping through the years is their shared kindness of heart.  He looked at the dawning sky again and again as if something of divine intervention would come from heaven. A nearby coffee is opening at the light of Tuesday as Broody sought relief from a hot cup of coffee. He managed to eased himself in front the growling dog so as to make it go away, and the mutt did just so. While his nerves are mending he quietly calculated his options sighing with each count. “No school today?” the coffee shop kindly inquired. Not intending to lie any further Broody quickly gulped down his last drop of coffee and limped again to his ‘old faithful’ his cranky bicycle. Home is where he should be heading sooner or later. “Oh, what am I going to say to my mother?” he indirectly asked his ‘old faithful’ as home approaches at the next curb.  He has been creeping in and out his house  of much lately, as he now crept silently into his room as the first light of dawn also crept into in bedroom. Shall he pretend he overslept or creep out again after he showered his drained body. Oh how he hated Mondays but Monday yesterday was way too much. How could so much cruel truths unfold in a brief five hours of a Monday, as Broody shakes his head in defeat.  The ringing of the telephone in the hall jolted Broody from his next move. He heard his mother opening her door and picking up the phone. His whole body and mind went absolutely still as he try to decipher the conversation. Surely this must be it! ….”yes doctor,….tablets?….my Junior…still in..e.tal…condition?” is all Broody could barely hear April through his bedroom door. His bedroom seemed to close in on Broody as he waited for  April to hang up. Still perched at his bedroom door, his feet took Broody to the edge of his bed and as he lifted his head all he could see was the the shocking horror of his mother’s wet face. “Who are you” she asked in deep sorrow and collapsed on the floor crying and kept muttering “Oh my Junior! Mommy should have kept you”.                                                             
                                    
2
Due midnight July 21st  (ten years ago)
Dr. Akken was in deep contemplation in his sparse office located in the furthest dark corner of Dconception Hospital. Should he or should he not… He was approached by a man who demanded his secrecy a week ago to perform a very controversial task who in return will make Dconception Hospital debt free for once. A hospital Dr. Akken felt so deeply rooted and attached. “Do it just this once Doctor, she must not know of it, nor me”. “This is a once in a lifetime request” the man then shook his hand and left in a haste only to call back five minutes ago.  “Dr. Akken speaking”, he mumbled into a receiver he had no notion of even picking it up. “She is having some complications and due for labor”, a nurse operator informed him. ”I’ll be there in a minute” and he quickly and nervously replaced the receiver and hurriedly to labor ward. April was crying when Doctor Akken enter the bright room with two nurses assisting. “I don’t think i can go through this doctor” she moaned. “I think you better abort my baby”, “I can’t bear to have my baby grow up without a father” April sobbed uncontrolably while Doctor Akken gently held her wet hand. Out of a sudden she went into a fit and nurses rushed to her aid while Doctor Akken shouted “Inject Morphine QUICK!”.  It was as if April slept for a brief hour when she woke, staring into a dimly lighted ceiling of some kind of a room. She glanced around and noticed she was alone still in a hospital bed. Millions of thoughts rushed through her head in an instant and at the core of each thought  was her baby. She searched for a telephone or a buzzer of some kind to speak to someone trying not to get up from her aching body still with her arm attached to tubes. As if sensing her movements, a nurse opened the door and entered with a glass of water. “How are you feeling April?” she inquired. “You must be hungry by now having slept a week”.  Another million thoughts went through her now alerted mind.. “Where’s my baby?” was all April could dare muster. And as if sensing her demand, another nurse walked in with a fully toweled baby while smiling, “Here’s your boy”. All April could do was cry when she saw her little baby being gently handed into her lap. “Junior….my baby”.  The two nurses turned to each other grimacing nervously April noticed from the corner of her eyes.  “What?”..The senior nurse hesitantly shuffled to her bedside while patting the baby and touched her shoulder. “What?!” April asked in a quivering voice while gently unfolding her baby. “You named your baby Broody when he was born April, remember?”.  April’s hand shivered when she both heard and felt her baby’s legs. “Broody had a slightly deformed leg as Doctor Akken told you but he’ll still be able to walk” the senior nurse told April trying not to look into her eyes.  April wanted to say so many things, but she finally succumbed to holding her baby close to her breast and kissed him gently humming some kind of tune not even noticing the nurses leaving the room to her and her baby.  Doctor Akken  was  on the telephone when the two nurses who just attended to April walked hesitantly into his never shut office. “Tell me Joyce” he requested. “I believe she bought it Doctor, but I think we….”, “Enough!” Doctor Akken demanded.  “It’s all for the good of our hospital, you of all person should know very well Joyce”, he grumbled. “”Take a week off to clear your conscience both of you”. “I’m leaving nurse Lee in charge of April for now.

3
July 21st 5pm
Broody was a quiet and distant boy naturally due to his handicap but quite inquisitive ever since he attended school. Now in his fourth grade he soon learned that friends can be cruel acquaintances too. Classmates giving him awkward wincing looks at his walk and questioning his father’s existence. Broody managed to take it all in stride despite his young age only to quietly question back the pebbles around his favorite river shore he tries never to miss in his afternoon ventures. Broody could easily dismiss any cruelties and doubts hurled at him but after his class organized a learning trip to a Hospital this morning, little did kind Broody realize that his brief ten years of childhood has dealt him his cruelest blow ever. He sat down and gently touched the surface of the sparkling river water as if it could somehow bathe his life anew, not realizing drops of his tears mingled with the flowing stream. “I will still love you April”, Broody sobbed uncontrollably for the first time. “I will still always love you…mother”.  Earlier that morning April packed an extra sandwich and a tumbler of water for his little boy’s learning trip to Dconception Hospital. “Remember to stick close to your class and don’t go wandering all by yourself” she quipped while somewhere in Dconception Hospital senior nurse Joyce dropped her glass of hot coffee and was jolted out of her trace like stance. “Oh dear God..I have to do something to ease my conscience”. She then out of impulse let her feet took her down to incubation ward knowing quite sure that Doctor Akken is still in his office monitoring the cctv’s in the Hospital online. “So help me God!” she reassured herself as she turned the knob to the secretly located ward.  Broody casually walk last in line while his classmates shuffled excitedly into the main reception of Dconception Hospital. He knew someone there who called herself Joyce who likes to visit him in school with his favorite goodies every week.  “Broody?” the tour teacher inquired and he quickly raised his hand in acknowledgement of his attendance as the Hospital receptionist keyed in his name into her database which at the same instance Doctor Akken’s monitor switched opened an privately protected file named ‘JUNIOR2’. He stared at the file unbelievingly both in awe and surprise. He has locked away that file for ten long years always believing it would be buried deep in the Hospital software’s abbeys. Suddenly out of the corner of his eyes on his same monitor he also noticed nurse Joyce opening the door of incubation ward. Doctor Akken slumped back down into his swiveling chair not even aware that he stood up when the file opened. He didn’t know whether to act or sit back and watch as his whole body pulsed with sudden curious excitement.  Senior nurse Joyce blatantly ignored the presence of cameras in that room as she let her feet took her to a glass covered cubicle with all kinds of humming machinery and tubes attached. Joyce picked up the file holder beside the cubicle as her tears stained the the only letters she wanted to see….’JUNIOR’ and frequent notes written below by attending nurses the first being hers dated ten years ago. She could hardly even read her own handwriting as tears blurred her vision but oh she could clearly remember every word she wrote there Words hardly decipherable now like ‘aborted’…’dna retrieved’…’fetal sleep’ was all she could see for now. She replaced the file holder and gently opened the glass cubicle….

4
Broody as what came to his inquisitive nature ignored his mother’s advise and went wandering all by himself in the brightly lighted hallway of the Hospital. He heard from Joyce who said she worked there and that  the Hospital has a very technologically advanced swimming pool meant to help those with weak muscles and has always advised broody to visit her there and she may help strengthen his weaker leg. He once asked his mother’s permission for the visit and was awarded with a tense silent look by April and he quickly took it as a no. He also knew his mother paid frequent visits to this Hospital with return trip stuffed with new kinds of tablets to place in the toilet cabinet, names he could still not decipher yet. His mother never told him where he was born only to be told by distant relatives that Broody was born in his deserted father’s house in a not far away town.  He suddenly stopped near a closed room thinking he heard someone crying inside.  Broody wanted so much to find the swimming pool just to see for himself if it’s really that cool. His feet refused to take him further as he leaned closer to the door hoping it’s just a patient inside somewhere, but how could be patients be housed here at the far mezzanine corner of this Hospital? Broody quietly mused. He always has a kind heart like his mother Broody never hesitating to lend a helping hand to those in need especially when people are crying. While somewhere far below he could hear his classmates briefed, lectured and led like robots he smiled to himself. His heart finally led his hand to open the door into incubation ward.  Doctor Akken still slumped motionlessly in his swivel chair not willing himself to make a move yet. Ten years ago he accepted a challenging request from a mysterious man, a secret he kept till today. Senior nurse Joyce and her assistant who is now emigrated to the mid east were the only ones who helped him out of obligation. He knew deep down inside one day one of them would regret that day. And that day has come for him to make his final task. A shrilling bell from his desktop jolted Doctor Akken from his manipulations. “Oh my God, Joyce….NO..oo!!”  he jumped from his seat as he watched Joyce opened the glass cubicle of JUNIOR and ran towards incubation ward to finally face the three souls there Broody halted a moment from opening the door as he thought he heard another noise deep from within, was it a baby crying or it sounded more like a hissing sound of some machinery? His hairs stood from his skin as he stood still outside only to be jolted by another louder sound this time from within. He quickly opened the door and stepped inside looking for source of the noises. What he saw next stayed etched in his memory forever. Joyce has to do it, she kept reassuring herself to God as she lifted a premature fetus from its abode kept alive till this day by the brilliant mind of Doctor Akken for reasons she could not accept. She suddenly stopped in her next move as she saw with utter surprise Broody near the entrance. “Broody..” she said in her quivering tearful voice, “its time you know the truth!”, “please tell me what to do…..”  By the time Doctor Akken entered incubation ward, the only presence left there was the hissing sounds of the machinery attached to the state of the art glass cubicle which nursed ‘JUNIOR’ for ten years. He removed his cell phone from his pocket and keyed in a number not knowing to be fearful or glad that things has finally unfolded, for the better or worse, only time will tell.

5
Joyce held Broody’s hand as they both knelt down beside his favorite spot beside a small flowing river as his tears fell into the river to be carried to somewhere safe she hopes. “We did what’s right Broody, your mother will still feel loved by a special boy like you. He finally was able to lift his sodden face and hugged Joyce as he gently removed his favorite pebble from his pocket and placed it on the freshly covered soil beside a stone Joyce has placed with inscribed JUNIOR on it.  “It’s not that she didn’t want you then Broody, it’s just her fragile state of mind at that stage not wanting you to be lonely without a father”.  July 22nd Broody woke with a lingering dream still playing on the back of his mind while morning light slipped into his bedroom window. He dreamt he was walking beside his favorite river stream. He noticed it was unusually quiet all around except the sounds of the flowing stream. He noticed a little boy of his age sitting beside the stream looking at something he held in his hands. He gingerly walked towards the boy and saw that he was holding a pebble quite alike one he found and kept. The boy then turned towards Broody…that’s when we woke.  He was also aware it was also unusually quiet this morning. He looked at alarm clock and it showed five past eleven. His mother is usually making clattering noises in the kitchen by now, preparing lunch and her soup recopies. Broody slipped out of his bed and saw that he was still in his outdoor clothes instead of his pajama. . He was aware he slept past five in the morning. He went to the toilet to wash his still soiled face and saw bottles of April’s unused tablets on the trash can. He opened the cabined and all that was left inside was toiletries. April was the first thing on his mind as he walked into the hall and was halted in his steps when he saw his mother dressed beautifully and smiling at him lovingly beside the hall table lavished with goodies and a wrapped parcel. He walked as if without his limp anymore towards April, “Mother, I’m sorry….”, ”Shhh..” April tenderly held his hand and his whole body to hers.  “Mother’s the one who should say sorry dear”. “Now I know Broody, I now know my regrets are done and gone and, and…” she could not utter anymore through her sobs.  Broody wanted so much to tell her the words she so wanted to hear, but all he could do is hold her closer and smell her fresh skin who happened to smell like the boy in his dream and also happens to be his favorite shampoo’s fragrance. “…and I now know how much you loved me instead my dearest son”. And they both knew in that instant.  “Happy eleventh birthday Broody” April smiled sweetly at him. “Open your present”
she cooed. Inside Broody smiled when he saw his favorite pebble beside heaps of new comics.  The next day at school Broody met up with Joyce during recess. They both sat down on the field and stared at the sky smiling. “Your mother will be fine says the Doctor Broody”. “You are really special you know that Broody?” Joyce smiled shaking her head gingerly. “Refused to stop kicking even when aborted, you loved your mother more than she ever dared hoped, and science gave you both a second chance, and it should stop at that!”. Broody kept his eyes on the sky and finally said “I’m now here and there”.

The End

An Orem 18 Year Old Girl's Story

-how can you fix the pain-  why did he do it?  does he even care?  what was going through his head?  all the questions that you can ask and wonder why.  that just kills you inside and makes you cry.  you want the answer but it will never be there to help you understand the real reason why. i think after all these years i wouls of got some help, i wont, i cant let my family see that i still bleed inside. even thought he did what he did and took his oen life i still miss him and wish he could have delt with it some other way. now you see your brothers growing up without there dad wondering and asking why. you dont want to see the pain in there eyes but can not say why. its been 4 years after getting raped for 16 years i grew up and had my lill girl and i am only 18. so i try not to let it get to me so she dosn;t see. what else is there to do but raise my own little girl and make sure it dont happen to her, so she dont go through the same hell i went through!

all them girls out there that this is happend to.  i understand where your coming from.  i was raped for 16 years and did not dare to say one word beacuse he told me he would kill himself in front a my little brothers.  after 16 years i finaly took the chance to turn him in and say something yeas he did take his life but not in front of my little brothers if any of you need to talk about it i am here for you i live in orem utah stay strong and fight for what you have to live for and put what happen in the past in the back of your mind i know its hard because i still think about it and cry

Jayne's Story

I AM NOT LUCKY.  That is what my family, friends and the few other people I have talked to say about my unimaginable horror and helplessness that surround the events in the past few weeks of my life.  "He" molested my daughter.  My 12 year old baby told me over the phone.  My live in boyfriend of 3 years (we were engaged at one time ) had exposed himself 5-6 times to my child in the last 5 weeks.  The story of the disclosure, calling the child abuse hot line, the non action of the whole system, moving out of my home to live with family members -  It is like a "Life Time Movie" that does not end in the required 2 hours with an ending in which everyone is stronger and better. That is not going to happen.  My luck.  He did not rape her or touch her.  He did expose his genitals and masturbated in front of her.  I trusted my most precious thing to his care after school.  I cannot understand this crime.  I understand stealing (greed) addictions (relief from the pain in life) murder (passion) and even abuse (control) - but the  sexual abuse of a child is unimaginable. He lived with us, provided for us, lived a life with some fun, as a family. An abuser violating the trust of the younger person makes sexual abuse even more psychologically devastating. I cannot relate or understand that in any way. "He" was a man I loved, respected and dedicated my time and feelings.  We had issues.  Communication, money (not lack of but his selfishness), control issues and sexual problems.  We had broken up and got back together at least 5 times - 2 weeks prior to finding out the nasty truth I told him he had taken all of my hope - I felt the only thing I had left was my daughter.  He heard me say that and knew that he was masturbating in front of her.  He is evil.  I was (I started to type "am" and realized that is no longer true) trusting, kind and a decent human being.  I have been reading  so much about the abuse and it is like I was retarded.  I am naive.  He fits the profile of a pedophile to a T.  I was a vulnerable single mother.  I had not dated in 6 years (when I divorced when my daughter was 3- I decided to not date until she could understand if I was not home I still loved her) and her dad is in the military - he has only seen her about 4 times in 10 years.  Here is a Sad statistic :The absence of a biological father increase by 900 percent a daughter's vulnerability to rape and sexual assault.  I am not lucky  1-5% of the male population is a pedofile.  How in the hell did I not see it?  I feel so many emotions.  I want to be strong for my daughter (she really does not understand how horrible this is) but IT IS SO HARD.  I work, I am nice to people, I am not selfish - I would do anything for anyone - I am so hurt, tired and feel victimized.  That is the worst feeling ever.  I am a victim of the system also.  I would think if you called DFS, the police, went to the Child Advocy Center for a statement he would at least be arrested.  I spoke with the detective Friday, November 12th - almost 2 weeks after I reported it.  There is a process, she was kind and understanding, she even stated she will do all she can to get him to prison.  See, I had a call from DFS on Friday - he confessed.  What does that mean?  The dectivie could not tell me.  That is all I want to know.  Did he confess to more than she disclosed?  He is not under arrest.  I heard he went to a Mental Health Hospital.  I bet he confessed to a doctor. 

Luck.  He has not called or driven by.  I have been hiding at my sisters, my moms and friends.  I do not who he is.  He may try to kidnap her.  I have to go on, to work, with Christmas.  I feel like curling up in a ball and crying for days.  I have to be strong.  He closed the bank accounts and took all the money.  He is not working.  Steve Byrd is the man.  He is know to his friends as a person that has an obession with cycling (5 bikes one cost over $8,000.00) mustangs (he bought it out right and has but thousands into tires and wheels)  They were impressed.  He was active in cycling and mustang clubs - showing off his possesions.  I thought I was showng him that I was not after his money when I did not question when he spent all his money on himself, and not his family.  He dangled the carrot - we are going to get a house next year (we will pay cash). His job took him into the homes accros Kansas City.  He is a Heating and Air Conditioning Tech for Cates.  He would tell us sometimes how a little kid would follow him around and help him.  He also told how he would help the little old ladies change their light bulbs, and carry their trash.  He had a steady job, paid his bills and had a pretty good sens of humor.  He was "grooming" (I had never even thought or heard of this term before 2 weeks ago) my daughter for molestation.  He also was mentally abusing me in many ways.

Luck.  I hope he will be arrested but I doubt it.  At every step of the way in this surreal nightmare I have been told most probably nothing will happen. He exposed himself to a child.  The system sucks.  He has the money.  It happens all the time is the feeling I get.  REALLY?  I need to get the word out to all of Kansas City on the dangers of preadators.  They live amongst us and look normal.  I want to protect the kids.  He is free.  He has time to look for his next victim he is not working right now - collecting unemployment and laid of for the winter.  He does this every year.  All day to probably (this is what I understand from all of the research I have done) talking to other pedofiles, stalking victims on the internet or trying to establish another relationship.  He will take his time.  It took him 2 years of building trust with us before he abused.  There is much more to this story.  He has not been interviewed by the police.  I want justice.  I want safe kids.  I want others to know how easy it is to be tricked.  I am not dumb although I feel it is so much my fault.