Chapter Seven

With everything happening to me I started to believe that there was no God. I just accepted the thought that I would live like this for the rest of my life. I was alone and the only thing I had to do was survive. Since I believed in nothing I no longer connected myself with pain. The only thing I felt was anger and that was always held inside, I showed no outside emotion. I no longer dreamed or allowed my thoughts to wonder during the day. I did my chores and just thought it was one day less to live.
When I was allowed to eat I would eat like a wild animal. One time I actually felt like one. Mother fed her dogs better than me and one day she gave them pancakes in their bowl and when I knew she wasn't looking I ate all the remains. I wasn't higher than anything, I was the extreme low.
I started to hate everything and everybody. I hated the sun and all the children that played it's warm presence. I hated Mother most of all though. I even wished her dead. I wanted her to feel all the pain that she put me through and all my loneliness. I hated Father, he knew what I was going through but he didn't do anything. He made so many promises just to try and make me happy but I now knew that he too thought I was part of the problem at home.
I used to pray to God to help me and to do anything for me but he never answered. Well one time he did, I asked him to make Mother sick and the next morning she was. My brothers and I took care of her like she was our patient, it was kind of like a free day.
My brothers didn't like me either and the feeling was mutual. One day they took turns hitting and kicking me. They knew I was the family slave and they took full advantage of it. They felt superior to me but my heart was as hard as a stone and they didn't affect me.
School was no longer exciting to me. I just went. One day I ran out of the classroom screaming at everything in my sight. I went to the bathroom and punched the tiles until I bled. There was a bully at school too. His name was Clifford and I was usually his target. He would beat me up with his friends and they would take turns hitting and kicking me. Aggie was also a bully to me but she verbally did it. One time when we were on a field trip at the Clippers Ship and I was looking over watching the water and she told me to jump. She told me it would be better if I would jump for not only me but everybody. People backed her up and agreed that I should jump, I thought about it but then I came back to reality. My reality sucks and I wish my life were different. I have had a couple people attempt to make my life better but it usually backfires. My mother got to the point where she called me "It", I no longer existed as a person. I wish there would be some kind of miracle that would help me, I wish God would be there for me just for this time. I need him, I need somebody. Please God, help me.

Chapter Six

After Mother stabbed me Father spent less time at home. I always hoped that he wouldn't leave but he always had some excuse. I sat in the garage listening to him walk out. He was still my protector because when he was home Mother didn't do half as much as she did when he wasn't home. He had a habit to help me with the dishes when he was there, he would wash and I would dry. We would talk softly to each other so Mother wouldn't hear or the boys for that matter. He would call me Tiger just like he did when I was little and he would promise me that we would get out of the madhouse together, he was going to find a way. All good things must come to an end though and Father had to stop helping me with the dishes because Mother said "the boy" didn't need help and he needed to pay more attention to the others in family because he was spending too much time with me. Of course Father gave up on me and gave into Mother, she had complete control. He wouldn't even stay home on his days off anymore but once he knelt down and told me that he was planning our getaway and that he was sorry. I knew it was dream and a fantasy like thing but I believed him just for that minute so I could smile and fool myself. When he spoke to me now he looked different, he wasn't my "dad", he had dark black circles around his eyes, he was red around his face and neck, his shoulders were slumped instead of strong and powerful, and his dark hair was turning gray. When he was leaving I would throw my arms around him, I didn't know when I would see him again.
Later on I was ordered to wash my ragged, dirty clothes but I was so upset about Father leaving I cried in the clothes just wishing for him to come back and get me. I had to stop myself so I took my anger and hurt out on my chore, I scrubbed my clothes until my knuckles bled. I just wanted to leave this "madhouse."
Mother starved me for 10 days straight when Father wasn't around. I was so hungry. Mother knew what she was doing though, she cleaned up the dishes herself, put the food down the garbage disposal, locked up the freezer in the garage, and rummaged through the trash just so I couldn't eat. I was used to not eating for long periods of time but not this long. To survive and beat my hunger I would drink water out of the wash sink faucet. I drink until I thought I would explode. Mother enjoyed this game and she started to put food in front of me and then tell me I had a limited amount of time to eat it. I would attempt to eat but she would snatch the plate away. I learned though, I started to hold onto the plate and I would surround it so she couldn't take it. I was hungry, I had to eat and I got the food.
Mother's other game that she liked was the gas chamber. She would mix ammonia and Clorox together in a bucket and tell me that I had to clean the bathroom. I didn't think it was that hard until she closed the door and I began to breath. My throat became raw and sore, I tried to avoid it so I would push the bucket by the door and I would go to the opposite corner trying to breath. I tried to catch the air coming from the vent and breathing through a rag but nothing helped that much. Mother would open the door and tell me that I had to empty the bucket immediately because I was stinking up her house. As soon as I would return downstairs I would throw up blood.
Mother got bored. Towards the end of the summer I would be sent out to mow lawns and Mother would give me a quota to reach. There was no way I could reach it because nobody wanted somebody like me to mow their lawn, I stunk and I had ragged clothes. One time I took nine dollars from a girl and Mother found out about it and of course returned the money and beat me until I was black and blue but I was trying to make her money. I was even given lunch before but she saw that too, she thought I stole it so when I got home I had to sit on the stone outside in a POW position. I was cold, even the sun avoided me. Another game Mother started was me lying in the bathtub with freezing water. When she would finally let me out I had to put my clothes on right away and go sit on the stone again in the POW position.
I was tired of Mother's games but it was my life. There was one person that acted like she cared, my substitute teacher in fourth grade. I liked being cared about but of course she left too. I am literally exhausted of the games and being teased but it's my life and I have to live it.

Chapter Five

During the summer of 1971 I knew exactly what punishments I would receive for certain tasks. Mother set rules and it was my duty to follow. I was becoming so hungry I felt like I was slowly withering away. I very rarely got leftovers from breakfast and I never got lunch. I would occasionally get dinner but not often. The day would start just like always, I would be sitting on the steps and Mother would call me up to start my chores. She ordered me to get up there and begin; I was hoping I would get something to eat that night. I started the dishes and Mother told me I had to finish in 20 minutes or else, if it was longer I wouldn't get anything to eat later on. She continuously reminded me of my time. She yelled because I wasn't looking directly at her when she was talking. She liked her knew way of distracting me and something didn't seem right. Her drunken body hobbled all over the place and she grasped the knife. She came over towards me and I became tense. She was bobbing back and forth and I thought she would fall. As she was rocking all over the place I saw something come towards me that seemed blurry from her hand. She stabbed me. My knees got weak and I collapsed to the floor, my world was black. I woke up and saw the blood pouring from my stomach and Mother was trying to dress it. She once wanted to be nurse and that is one thing that I had complete confidence in her with. Russell was chanting in the background "David's going to die. The Boy's going to die." I sat there trying to tell Mother I forgave her and that I knew it was an accident but I was too weak to tell her. She then told me that I had to go finish the dishes and if I didn't she would kill me. I couldn't comprehend what she was saying but as soon as I did I tried to move myself to the kitchen. I struggled with the dishes and I could feel the pain coming from my stomach but I had to bear through it, I had to finish my chore. I moved into the room where Father was slowly and told him that Mother had stabbed me. He didn't seem surprised. He told me to go back and finish before Mother saw us talking. I did what I was told. I lost all respect that I had for him. I finally finished after a hour and a half but as I was stretching to put the dishes away Father came in and told me he would do that, I guess my pain was visible. I moved my way downstairs and to my surprise Mother tended to me. She slowly took my bloody clothes off and I accidently fell against her, she allowed it for a moment. I was told that I could go play with my brothers outside and do sparklers. I was excited and for a moment forgot about the pain. I had a fever that and she actually seemed nervous and worried about me. I thought of my mom not Mother. This didn't last long; I soon had to return to my chores even though I still felt feverish. Mother didn't care anymore, she didn't tend the wound. It was all on me. The cut was infected and I had to clean it myself. I took one of my cleaner rags out of the dirty pile and slowly turned on the wash faucet. I only let the water drip because Mother would know if I completely turned it on. I squeezed the wound and watched the puss ooze out. It hurt, bad. I pulled the rag off and held my breath with pain. I placed the rag back on the cut and tried to squeeze everything out until it was just blood. I became worried that Mother would notice soon that I wasn't on the bottom of the stairs so I cleaned up my mess and resumed by position. My life was back to hell.

Chapter Four

Things with Mother were different now, not a good different, a touch a go type deal. She would hit me and I would go to garage. September came and that meant school. School… my salvation. This was the only place of escape for. I got new clothes and shiny new lunch pail. They didn't stay new that long though because I had to wear them day after day and week after week, by the time October came they were already weathered and greatly used. Mother didn't even bother to cover my bruises anymore, she knew I would lie and I did.Mother was also "forgetting" to feed me dinner. I would get leftovers from my brothers for breakfast and I relied on school for lunch. Mother packed me the same lunch everyday, two peanut butter sandwiches and a few limp carrot sticks. I would fanaticize about food, normal food, a cheeseburger with everything on it to be precise. I got so wrapped up in food and eating I started to steal at school. I would go to put my lunch down while all the other kids were outside and I would dig through to find my treasures that could join my lunch. Soon kids started noticing food gone and it came back to me. Mother was notified and I paid for it, like always. That wasn't the last time I stole. I couldn't stop thinking about other ways to eat and get food. I was always thinking of other plans. My punishment was not being allowed to eat on the weekends but that just gave me more time to think of better fool proof ways to steal. I started going to other classrooms where the teachers and students didn't know me that well but once again I got caught and Mother found out. Now I wasn't a member of the family and I was referred to as The Boy. I could no longer eat with my family, play, watch tv, etc. Everyday after school I had to change into my work clothes, complete my chores, and resign to the basement, where I stayed until Mother summoned me to come out. I became Mother's slave. Everything I did just led to more trouble. Mother and Father were always disagreeing or something in their drunken states of mind, it was all over me. Usually Father would try and fight for me with little effort and Mother would always have an answer and she would win. I was used to it. Sometimes Mother would leave after the arguments and return within the hour and Father would pack an overnight bag and leave for work in the middle of the night, I would just lie shivering on my cot. When Father left Mother would make me pay for it because it was my fault, she would take me up to the kitchen and smack me around. I would lie on the floor but she would pick me up and make me fight to stand, I was so tired.Second grade finally came and Mother was having her fourth child. My teacher, Miss Moss took interest in me. She would ask me specific questions and out my nature I would lie but she knew the truth. Eventually Miss Moss reported her concerns to the principal. He knew me as the food thief and once again called Mother. Once I got home it was like an atomic bomb hit, Mother was more violent than ever. She was furious; she referred to Miss Moss as the "hippie" teacher reporting false accusations. After the beatings I had two bloody noses and a missing tooth. Mother had to go to school and explain her side of the story and of course she takes my baby brother, Russell and lies to them saying that I am jealous of the new baby and I am making things up to attention because I let my imagination drift. She told them not to believe my silly wild stories.I will never forget that summer after second grade. We vacationed to the Russian River. Father was supposed to take us out to play and Mother said I was being to loud and could no longer go. She tried to force me to eat Russell’s dirty diapers and I tried to fight back but she shoved my face into it. I tried to push myself out of it but couldn't. Finally, Father and my brothers returned and it stopped. She threw a wash cloth at me and told me to hurry up and wash my face. I blew contents out of nose and acted as usual. I could still smell the nasty smell of the diaper. After that summer we never went back.I started school again and began the search for food one more time. I planned my way to the store that was up the street. I started counted my steps and timing on my way to and from school. I soon had a master plan and had to put it into action. I felt like I would get caught but I had to eat I had to accomplish this. One day I finally got the courage to leave school and go to the store. I made it in less time that I planned for, that was good. I walked up and down the aisles looking for something worth stealing. I felt like everybody was staring at me, I guess I didn't take my smell into thought when I did this. I quickly grabbed what was in front of me and ran. I looked as I got out the door, a box of graham crackers. I ran to the school bathroom and ditched the box into the trash can so I could later go back and eat them. Later in the day I asked to be dismissed and went to the bathroom, they weren't there. The custodian took out the trash before I got there. Shortly after doing this I got caught again and punished and the same thing happened when I went from house to house begging. My life wasn't going any better than I thought it would. I continued to fight Mother through it all and through the Ammonia and Clorox, through the choking affects and hard hits, even through the neglect of my father. I still think I am lucky to be living and I still know that I will survive.

Chapter Three

The relationship between Mother and me drastically changed from discipline to punishment. I remember when all I had to do was take a hit or have my face pushed against the mirror; I now know those were only the beginning. Everything got worse as time went on and when Dad wasn't home. Dad was my protector and he was there for me, at least for a little while. When he was home I was like his shadow. I would follow him everywhere just knowing Mother wouldn't do anything and for a change I was safe. One day when Dad was leaving and saying his goodbyes he took me close to him as he knelt to my level and told me that I needed to be a "good boy." What did that mean; I didn't know what I was doing wrong. I obeyed Mother.School was my home away from home. I looked forward to going because I was allowed to be me. I could play with my brother and I wouldn't get punished. I was held back in first grade, on Mother's request because I knew that I had the most smiley face papers in the class. I liked being held back though, I already knew everything and I was in Stan's grade too. We got really close at school but we both knew at home was a different story.Mother became a den mother for our Cub Scouts and she would treat the other kids like kings. It wasn't fair. She finally gave it up and I could go elsewhere for our meetings. She was driving me to a meeting one day when she started yelling at me and I had run to the den mother crying and tell her that I couldn't attend that meeting. She told me that she hoped to see me at the next one. I never did see her again. When we got home mother told me to take off all my clothes and to stand by the stove while she turned on the burners. She explained to me about a story she heard of a mother having her child lie on the stove as a punishment. I became terrified. She grasped my arm and brought it down to the flame. My arm began to burn with unexplainable pain. I collapsed to the ground. She was trying to get me to lie on top of the stove. I began to refuse and ask whining questions. She began to hit me and seemed to forget about being forceful of me to get on the stove. My brother came home and I was free. I grabbed my clothes and ran to the garage. I cried and then soon realized I won! I beat her. I made a promise to myself. I would no longer give into her, I would fight. I would survive.

Chapter Two

The "good times", I remember those days. We used to be a family. Dad would be working at the fire station in San Francisco and Mom would be home with me and my two brothers, Ronald and Stan. Mom always did something out of the ordinary for us to make our days pass when Dad wasn't home. She would take us on day trips and tell us all the history and knowledge that she knew so we could learn. She always wanted us to learn something. I remember when she took us to China Town and we drove through and she told us everything she knew. When we got home she made it all come to life. She decorated with lanterns and played music from the Orient, she also made us an exotic meal while dressed in her kimono, and it was an unforgettable experience. I miss those days. When Dad was home we would sometimes venture out and spend days together as a family. My favorite place was the Russian River. We would stay in our cabin and watch the sunsets with Mom and Dad. I learned how to swim on my back there, thanks to Mom. Our picnics were so much fun; I would do anything to get them back. We would play for hours at the park and then when it was time to eat we would eat so fast we could barely taste it and then go back to playing. Mom and Dad would just lie next to each other and drink whine while we played, they liked that. I enjoyed waking up everyday, especially around the holidays. Our house had so much spirit and life in it you couldn't help but to enjoy being there. At Christmas the house would have ornaments hanging from the ceiling and lights would trim our windows. We would drive around and admire everybody else's holiday spirit too. The presents would multiply from the time the tree was up until Christmas, it was amazing.I don't know what happened to those days but I would do anything to have them back. I wake up in the morning and think to myself maybe my life now is just a dream and maybe I'll be a part of this family again.

Chapter One

Today was like a dream. I was late doing my chores and I was afraid I wasn't going to get to eat again. I didn't get dinner last night, I was a bad boy. Mother, who was suffering from a hangover, caught me with my hands out of the water and I had to pay. She hit me a couple times and my head hit the counter but I couldn't show her that I was worried about not eating. Luckily, she stopped and she didn't verbally take anything away from me, like breakfast. I continued doing the dishes and I actually got to eat the leftover Lucky Charms from my brother's bowl. At least I got something in my stomach.Mother had to drive me to school today and I'm sure she wasn't happy about it. As I ran for the building she called me back, I immediately thought I did something wrong. I forgot my lunch that's all, two peanut butter sandwiches and carrot sticks. Mother told me to have a nice day, which must have been the hangover talking. I got my tardiness taken care of and walked to the nurse's office like usual to do the daily routine. She examined me with my clothes on and took notes. I then had to take off my clothes for the thorough exam. She asked me questions and I don't like to answer but I did. She leaves the room and returns with the principal. He took part in the examination and talked with the nurse. I was dismissed to class and headed to English. I was unprepared for the test that was to come once I walked in the door. The substitute reacted to my smell along with the rest of the class. I couldn't help it though; I have worn these clothes for two years. I took my test and proceeded to my seat, but before I got there I was called to office. I once again went on my way leading to more trouble. I walked into the office and was taken back to the teacher's lounge. I didn't know what was about to come. Once I entered I recognized the people sitting around the table, Mr. Hansen, Miss Moss, Miss Woods, Mr. Ziegler, and the nurse but there was one person I didn't recognize... a police officer. I was motioned to sit down and join them so I obeyed. The police officer asked me to tell him what has been going on at home between Mother and me, I shook my head no. I eventually gave in and told them my story. The "meeting" ended and I was worried about what kind of trouble I could have just caused. Mr. Hansen brought me a school lunch and later some cookies. What will happen to me once I got home?The teachers started hugging me and telling me things would be ok but I didn't believe them because some were crying. How could I believe them when they weren't convincing? I was told to be a good boy and was left to leave with the police officer.I was nervous. I knew I was going to jail. Maybe it was a good thing; Mother couldn't beat me anymore if I went there. I sat there hanging on to my cookies allowing things to run through my mind. I wasn't used to thinking freely. The police officer was trying to make conversation but I just continued to clench my cookies. We passed the city limits and the police officer made one more attempt to talk to me. He said, "David Pelzer you're free." I didn't know what that meant. Could this be the start of something good or a horrible ending to something bad?