Excerpt: The Making Of A Full Grown Nothing

Chapter One
The end, and the beginning.

One more empty night spent bellied up to the bar. Why do I keep doing this to myself? How did I end up here? What happened to make my life suck so badly?

I guess it all started when I was about two, maybe three years old. I mean really, what kid stays completely normal after they see their own father blow his head off?

I guess him and ma were having their troubles, I dunno, I was two, remember?

Anyway, we had all gone to visit my gramma in Oklahoma, and daddy went out into the driveway. I of course, being only a little kid, followed him out there because no one else was even awake at that hour. He had something in his hand, I dunno what it was, but I wanted to see it. I was a curious child. To curious for my own good.

Turns out he was holding a gun. All I knew was my daddy was crying, and I didn't like it. I thought what he was holding was what was making him sad, so I tried to take it from him. Well, he grabbed me then, and hugged me tight. Too tight, and it hurt, so of course, I started crying too. Then he was saying stuff about how he didn't want us all to watch him die slow, so he was going to end it all now, so everyone could move on.

Then he pointed the gun at my head, and said he wanted to take me with him, because he could not bear to leave his baby girl behind... at that point I was struggling to get down, so he finally let me go.

I was backing away from him, when he turned away from me and put the gun to his head.

I still remember the sound it made, and all the red. There was red everywhere after that...

I didn't understand at the time that he had killed himself. I was smart, precocious even, but I was still just a baby really, and I didn't understand that the man I loved more then life itself was forever gone to me. I didn't understand that he would never get up again. I didn't understand why mama and gramma were crying. I didn't understand why my brother was screaming.

I didn't understand any of it. Not one little bit. Not at all.

My daddy was gone. And he wasn't ever coming back. Not ever.

Life changed after that. In a big way. Ma either had a breakdown, or TB or something after he died, and she was in the hospital for about a year. Me and my brother (brother 1) went together to a foster home. My oldest brother (brother 2) went to a different one by himself, as did my sister (oldest sister)
Before the foster home however, we were in a children's shelter for a time. They liked to separate the boys from the girls, but I pitched such a fit that they let me and (brother 1) stay in the same room there. Some of the other kids used to tease me and pick on me because I wore glasses. I felt such shame for wearing them that I tossed them into the trash can.

Finally, they found a home willing to take both me and (brother 1) so we could stay together.

The home (brother 1) and I went to was pretty damn good as far as foster homes go. They were an older couple who had a bit of land with a pond out in back.

I don't recall their names at the moment, so for now, and until I do, I will just call them Nana and Poppa. Poppa owned several guns and rifles. He used to take me and (brother 1) out back to the pond, load up the rifle, and have us try to hit the floating milk bottles he put in the pond.

It was really great for keeping a little kid's mind off the fact that their father was dead, and mother no where around I tell ya!

It took me a little while, but I soon reached the point where I could pretty much hit anything I tried to hit with that rifle, but I did have to develop a tough backside, cos it seems every time I shot the thing, it tossed me down right on my ass...LOL!!! (brother 1) was not as good a shot as I was, even though he was nearly 3 years older then me. He used to get so damn mad, cos he couldn't hit what he shot at, and I could.

Sibling rivalry...gotta love it.

Nana wrote to my ma in the hospital frequently. She wrote as though it was coming from us. I only found out she did that years later though. Mama told me (again, years later) that while she was in the hospital, she didn't want to eat much, or even drink milk when they put it on her food tray, because she didn't know for sure if we had enough to eat or milk to drink where we were. Must have been damn hard for her, knowing she could not take care of her 4 kids because she was in the hospital. She had family, sisters, but they were all living out of state from where we were, and she was afraid if she let them take us, they wouldn't want to give us back, so she went the social services route and put us in the foster care system.

Older brother (brother 2) was in a home by himself. He was 8 at the time he entered foster care. When he came out, he was messed up. In the head. He used to walk around on his toes all the time, and claimed it was because his foster parents used to force him to take ballet lessons.

Did I mention that (brother 2) is a weird one? Read on, and you will see as time goes by...

(only sister) was in a different home. I can't tell you about her experiences though, cos she didn't think I was fit to talk to when I was little. Must be because she was 11 years older then I was, and saw me as little more then a baby.

I got news for her. I was never a baby. My soul and mind are far older then my body can account for. Always have been. Ma always said I had an old soul.

I don't know how you feel about reincarnation, but I am sure I have lived before. Many times.

More on that later though. I've got to keep things in order, don't I?

Time moves on. (brother 1) and I were moved from our great foster home, back to the children's shelter in preparation for ma getting out of the hospital. Nana taught me the song 'Harper Vally PTA' so I could sing it to her when I saw her. I was 3 ½ when we were reunited with our mother.

While in the shelter, I got head lice. I remember wearing this little white hat, and it was itching my head something awful. Ma took it off me, and there were all these little bugs crawling around inside of it. She didn't know what they were, so she took it (and me) straight to the pharmacy to ask what in the world those things were. They told her, and she got what was needed to get rid of them.

(sister) and (brother 2) came home a couple of days later.

When I was nearly four years old, ma met a man. She decided that her four kids needed a father figure in their lives, so she married the first man who asked her.

I really wish she hadn't done that. Really.

Chapter two
Hell has a beginning

At first he seemed like a nice enough man. I was very young, and missing my father something awful. I know you probably think I was to young to even remember him, but I wasn't, I assure you.

He used to take all 4 of us kids for long walks. We would go to the five and dime store up the road, and he would always let us pick put some little something to take back home with us. I remember one particularly hot afternoon, I went with them all walking barefooted, and after a while, the heat got to my feet, and I was begging to be carried. He picked me up, and put me so I was sitting with my legs around his neck. Made my feet feel better, but I had a weird feeling even then.

It wasn't long after that, maybe a few weeks, when my ma wanted to take the bigger kids out somewhere. It was rather late, some school function for one of the older kids, so 'he' offered to stay home and watch me. I went to bed not long after that, as it was beyond my bedtime.