When I ended my last blog I closed my computer crying. This next year so many things happen and I was praying today for God to help me with how to start the next blog. I cannot write anything until I hear the title in my head. On my way to a fellowship gathering with ladies that I attend service with and honestly I was scared to death to go because I don't really KNOW a lot of them. I still have the evil one messing with me and my confidence. If he even gets a hint of fear he's on it! Anyway, all of a sudden I heard it. Out of nowhere. I was surprised at first and then I burst into a healthy bout of laughter. If I haven't mentioned it before God is humorous. Seeing how Jesus says if we know him we know the father, it only makes sense that God would be humorous for Jesus is! I needed that laughter. Along with it came the knowledge that I would be okay. So, what the heck . . . here we go!
I barely had time to grasp the fact that my mother was shipping me off to my father's on the pretense that I was "too much to handle" when I heard my father's car pull in the drive way. This was crazy! I had begged and pleaded to live with my father and had been told NO again and again. Now I was going to be sent there for staying out all night. She hadn't even waited to hear my side of the story. She had an opportunity to make me look bad and I just felt in my heart she was happy things had worked out this way. She could get rid of me and not look like it was because she was not close to me. Honestly I felt she barely knew who I truly was.
I don't know what my mom said to him on the phone but he was hot. He yelled at me to pack my stuff. No longer was I Wendy, Honor roll student, Best Christian, all around good kid. I was in major trouble. I don't know why I was attacked so viciously but my father was in my face demanding to know what I had done. I was so terrified by his anger I could not tell him I had been drinking. I told him I'd just hung out with Debbie nothing more. I was called a liar. I was marched out of the house with two trash bags full of all I owned and driven in silence to Westfield. My head was pounding and I just wanted the day to be over. I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare.
I was sent to my room while they decided my fate. Since I had denied doing anything wrong I wasn't sure exactly what that punishment would be. I fell asleep waiting for them to come get me. When they woke me up I swear I thought my head was going to explode. To this day it remains the worst hangover I have ever had. I couldn't let them know how bad I felt for they might realize I'd been drinking and until my charges were handed down by my new found prison guard I had no idea just how low they thought of me. They were 100% positive that I had lost my virginity and for that I was going to be grounded for the summer as well as the first part of the school year! I was astounded. I denied it until I was blue in the face. Didn't matter. They were convinced even more so by my denial. As my step-mother used to say if you aren't guilty there is no need for defense. I even had my butt beat repeatedly for a crime I did not commit."Why is this happening?" I questioned God. It was probably my anger at my circumstance that kept him from answering me. It was the first time I could remember feeling like God was no longer listening to me.
My fate was sealed. I would work at the family construction company. I would earn minimum wage. I could play softball and basketball as long as I paid for the expenses and I was being signed up for marching band! Best part I was being held responsible for those costs as well. That one threw me for a loop! I'd played a clarinet in the 6th grade for music class. I didn't even remember a single note let alone the scale! As if all of that were not enough I also had to budget my book rental and school lunch as well as have a fund for unexpected school expenses. The reasoning behind having me pay for everything was so that I would appreciate it that much more.
My step mother who for some reason was playing soft ball herself but had not bought herself a mitt yet was thrilled to discover that my glove fit her hand. Since she wasn't sure she was going to join the team she was subbing for as a regular she was not interested in buying herself a glove yet. I think it was my 4th night there that we went and watched her play as a family. When the game was over and we had met back up I questioned where my glove was? Chris had mistakenly left it in the dug out. Of course when she went back to get it it was gone. She didn't even act like it was a big deal. I had had that glove since the first grade! When my mom first bought it and gave it to me it was ridiculously big. By the time I was in the 6th grade, it was like an extension of my hand. There wasn't a ball I couldn't catch with that glove. I was physically sick to my stomach over the loss. When I was asking if Chris knew what the cost was for joining the softball team she informed me that since I needed to budget in the cost of a new glove it was looking like that would not be a wise investment of time or money. I was astounded. I did not lose my glove. SHE did! There was no arguing that point. No use in even trying. I resolved that I would at least be able to play basketball in the fall.
Over the summer I taught myself how to play the clarinet. Surprisingly I liked marching band. Some of the greatest high school memories I have involve band camp and band competitions.
I hated having Chris for a boss though. She loved it a bit too much. She would have me filling pot holes in the driveway during storms when even the guys were being sent home . . .No better time to see where gravel was needed than in the rain she would tell me. The worst chore she gave me was pulling weeds. I informed her there was an area of poison ivy and I would not be able to work in that area. Who knew she'd have me dress in pants, a long sleeve shirt to protect my arms and gloves on a 80 to 90 degree day! Needless to say I ended up with poison ivy in my throat, my eyes . . . it was so bad. I ended up in the bathroom one night with a razor and I shaved every part of my body and then I doused myself in rubbing alcohol. I think I still needed a shot. For sure I took those little white pills. Misery. I started out my freshman year of high school knowing a few girls from band and looking like the ultimate pizza face! Acne has nothing on poison ivy!
Regardless I had made it through the summer and basket ball was around the corner. I loved that sport. The coach had us running a lot and I decided it would be in my best interest to build up my stamina so I began running a few miles while dribbling my basketball to take my mind off of running. This particular Saturday morning I managed to rip a contact while putting it in my eye. I didn't want to deal with a long lecture from Chris about how irresponsible I was for tearing my contact and how replacing it would effect my budget. I just wanted to get out of the house and have a little time to myself to talk to God. I was on my way back home. . . less than 3/10 of a mile from our driveway when I recognized the Compton's vehicle as they drove by. I got back out in the middle of the road and squinted. I could see a station wagon on the West side of the road. I thought to myself must be the grandfather of the girl who lived in the house after the woods . . . he was always mushroom hunting. Because I had one good eye and one bad eye for the most part I was looking down just in front of me. A male voice asked, "Playing ball?" I looked up and stopped dead in my tracks hand in mid air. I think the ball made contact but I failed to shove it back down . . . I heard it thump again and again as it thumped off the road. In front of me stood a naked man pointing a gun at me. I was frozen. The night before on the news there was a story about a few girls that had been found raped and murdered and left naked in fields. I screamed out to God in my head "This is NOT how I die! I haven't accomplished anything yet!!". I was shocked, confused, terrified. The naked man approached me. "Give me head" he demanded. "I don't know what that is." I stammered. . . frustrated he said then give me a hand job. I repeated to him, "I don't know what that is. He rolled his eyes and grabbed my hand forcefully and placed it where he wanted it. I jerked my hand back in repulsion and told him I can't do that. He ordered me to take off my shirt and then my bra. He ran the gun across both breasts burried the nozzle into my stomach and said, "I'll kill you if you move." With his other hand he proceeded to pinch one and with his mouth suck on the other and then he switched. I don't know what made me say, "Oh my here comes my father!" but I did. He barely glanced over his shoulder I went to step around him and he punched me with that gun right in the stomach. "Little girl I will kill you if you lie to me again." By the grace of God his face changed from hatred to terror and he ran from me jumped in his car and sped off. Suddenly there was Mrs. Compton asking if I was okay . . . I couldn't even talk . . . I think she told me to go home . . . honestly I don't know. . . somehow I got my shirt and bra back on . . . I never retrieved that ball. I came crashing into the house through the screen door. Cady, my baby sister, was on Chris' lap and they both looked at me and Chris asked what the heck was wrong with me. I was a mess. I can't fathom what I must have looked like. All I could say was, "Guy guy guy gun gun gun me me me" She asked me if I was making up a lie and I think I screamed. My sister will confirm that this is the most clear memory from her childhood. She claims she can still smell my sweat. Gross, I know. The police were called. I was given a soda for it's sugar. I was spiking a fever . . . a high fever due to shock. When the police arrived the main one that talked to me was a volunteer sheriff. He was also the driving instructor that was in the car with the Carmel High School Students whose lives were cut short on SR 38 due to a collision with a 7up truck. He informed my parents that I was in shock. My own mom wasn't even called to my knowledge. If she was . . . she did not come to see me. All I wanted to do was get in the shower and scrub my body clean. Finally I was allowed to do so. When the hot water ran out I dried off and went to my room to die. My father and step mother don't know but I heard their argument. It was the only time in my life that Chris argued for me. My father in a gist asked, "What is the big deal? She wasn't raped . . . besides she's not even a virgin. She probably brought this on herself." I closed my eyes and cried myself to sleep. These people raising me were so clueless as to who I truly was. What I was about. I was devastated. My stomach remained bruised for over two weeks. He'd gotten me pretty darn good for an old guy.
Some of you reading this will respect the fact that this chapter has left me exhausted. I thought I'd get farther than I did but I must stop here. I am crying too hard to go on. This is just the beginning of my sifting. The good news is I am here to share my story and I promise it has a happy ending! God Bless everyone who is following along. Thank you to those who have written me . . .. you give me courage to continue May you be Blessed 10 fold for you two have your own cross to carry and I appreciate what you have shared with me as well. I'll continue when the Holy Spirit gives me my next Chapter.
Wendy, Mom of Many
I barely had time to grasp the fact that my mother was shipping me off to my father's on the pretense that I was "too much to handle" when I heard my father's car pull in the drive way. This was crazy! I had begged and pleaded to live with my father and had been told NO again and again. Now I was going to be sent there for staying out all night. She hadn't even waited to hear my side of the story. She had an opportunity to make me look bad and I just felt in my heart she was happy things had worked out this way. She could get rid of me and not look like it was because she was not close to me. Honestly I felt she barely knew who I truly was.
I don't know what my mom said to him on the phone but he was hot. He yelled at me to pack my stuff. No longer was I Wendy, Honor roll student, Best Christian, all around good kid. I was in major trouble. I don't know why I was attacked so viciously but my father was in my face demanding to know what I had done. I was so terrified by his anger I could not tell him I had been drinking. I told him I'd just hung out with Debbie nothing more. I was called a liar. I was marched out of the house with two trash bags full of all I owned and driven in silence to Westfield. My head was pounding and I just wanted the day to be over. I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare.
I was sent to my room while they decided my fate. Since I had denied doing anything wrong I wasn't sure exactly what that punishment would be. I fell asleep waiting for them to come get me. When they woke me up I swear I thought my head was going to explode. To this day it remains the worst hangover I have ever had. I couldn't let them know how bad I felt for they might realize I'd been drinking and until my charges were handed down by my new found prison guard I had no idea just how low they thought of me. They were 100% positive that I had lost my virginity and for that I was going to be grounded for the summer as well as the first part of the school year! I was astounded. I denied it until I was blue in the face. Didn't matter. They were convinced even more so by my denial. As my step-mother used to say if you aren't guilty there is no need for defense. I even had my butt beat repeatedly for a crime I did not commit."Why is this happening?" I questioned God. It was probably my anger at my circumstance that kept him from answering me. It was the first time I could remember feeling like God was no longer listening to me.
My fate was sealed. I would work at the family construction company. I would earn minimum wage. I could play softball and basketball as long as I paid for the expenses and I was being signed up for marching band! Best part I was being held responsible for those costs as well. That one threw me for a loop! I'd played a clarinet in the 6th grade for music class. I didn't even remember a single note let alone the scale! As if all of that were not enough I also had to budget my book rental and school lunch as well as have a fund for unexpected school expenses. The reasoning behind having me pay for everything was so that I would appreciate it that much more.
My step mother who for some reason was playing soft ball herself but had not bought herself a mitt yet was thrilled to discover that my glove fit her hand. Since she wasn't sure she was going to join the team she was subbing for as a regular she was not interested in buying herself a glove yet. I think it was my 4th night there that we went and watched her play as a family. When the game was over and we had met back up I questioned where my glove was? Chris had mistakenly left it in the dug out. Of course when she went back to get it it was gone. She didn't even act like it was a big deal. I had had that glove since the first grade! When my mom first bought it and gave it to me it was ridiculously big. By the time I was in the 6th grade, it was like an extension of my hand. There wasn't a ball I couldn't catch with that glove. I was physically sick to my stomach over the loss. When I was asking if Chris knew what the cost was for joining the softball team she informed me that since I needed to budget in the cost of a new glove it was looking like that would not be a wise investment of time or money. I was astounded. I did not lose my glove. SHE did! There was no arguing that point. No use in even trying. I resolved that I would at least be able to play basketball in the fall.
Over the summer I taught myself how to play the clarinet. Surprisingly I liked marching band. Some of the greatest high school memories I have involve band camp and band competitions.
I hated having Chris for a boss though. She loved it a bit too much. She would have me filling pot holes in the driveway during storms when even the guys were being sent home . . .No better time to see where gravel was needed than in the rain she would tell me. The worst chore she gave me was pulling weeds. I informed her there was an area of poison ivy and I would not be able to work in that area. Who knew she'd have me dress in pants, a long sleeve shirt to protect my arms and gloves on a 80 to 90 degree day! Needless to say I ended up with poison ivy in my throat, my eyes . . . it was so bad. I ended up in the bathroom one night with a razor and I shaved every part of my body and then I doused myself in rubbing alcohol. I think I still needed a shot. For sure I took those little white pills. Misery. I started out my freshman year of high school knowing a few girls from band and looking like the ultimate pizza face! Acne has nothing on poison ivy!
Regardless I had made it through the summer and basket ball was around the corner. I loved that sport. The coach had us running a lot and I decided it would be in my best interest to build up my stamina so I began running a few miles while dribbling my basketball to take my mind off of running. This particular Saturday morning I managed to rip a contact while putting it in my eye. I didn't want to deal with a long lecture from Chris about how irresponsible I was for tearing my contact and how replacing it would effect my budget. I just wanted to get out of the house and have a little time to myself to talk to God. I was on my way back home. . . less than 3/10 of a mile from our driveway when I recognized the Compton's vehicle as they drove by. I got back out in the middle of the road and squinted. I could see a station wagon on the West side of the road. I thought to myself must be the grandfather of the girl who lived in the house after the woods . . . he was always mushroom hunting. Because I had one good eye and one bad eye for the most part I was looking down just in front of me. A male voice asked, "Playing ball?" I looked up and stopped dead in my tracks hand in mid air. I think the ball made contact but I failed to shove it back down . . . I heard it thump again and again as it thumped off the road. In front of me stood a naked man pointing a gun at me. I was frozen. The night before on the news there was a story about a few girls that had been found raped and murdered and left naked in fields. I screamed out to God in my head "This is NOT how I die! I haven't accomplished anything yet!!". I was shocked, confused, terrified. The naked man approached me. "Give me head" he demanded. "I don't know what that is." I stammered. . . frustrated he said then give me a hand job. I repeated to him, "I don't know what that is. He rolled his eyes and grabbed my hand forcefully and placed it where he wanted it. I jerked my hand back in repulsion and told him I can't do that. He ordered me to take off my shirt and then my bra. He ran the gun across both breasts burried the nozzle into my stomach and said, "I'll kill you if you move." With his other hand he proceeded to pinch one and with his mouth suck on the other and then he switched. I don't know what made me say, "Oh my here comes my father!" but I did. He barely glanced over his shoulder I went to step around him and he punched me with that gun right in the stomach. "Little girl I will kill you if you lie to me again." By the grace of God his face changed from hatred to terror and he ran from me jumped in his car and sped off. Suddenly there was Mrs. Compton asking if I was okay . . . I couldn't even talk . . . I think she told me to go home . . . honestly I don't know. . . somehow I got my shirt and bra back on . . . I never retrieved that ball. I came crashing into the house through the screen door. Cady, my baby sister, was on Chris' lap and they both looked at me and Chris asked what the heck was wrong with me. I was a mess. I can't fathom what I must have looked like. All I could say was, "Guy guy guy gun gun gun me me me" She asked me if I was making up a lie and I think I screamed. My sister will confirm that this is the most clear memory from her childhood. She claims she can still smell my sweat. Gross, I know. The police were called. I was given a soda for it's sugar. I was spiking a fever . . . a high fever due to shock. When the police arrived the main one that talked to me was a volunteer sheriff. He was also the driving instructor that was in the car with the Carmel High School Students whose lives were cut short on SR 38 due to a collision with a 7up truck. He informed my parents that I was in shock. My own mom wasn't even called to my knowledge. If she was . . . she did not come to see me. All I wanted to do was get in the shower and scrub my body clean. Finally I was allowed to do so. When the hot water ran out I dried off and went to my room to die. My father and step mother don't know but I heard their argument. It was the only time in my life that Chris argued for me. My father in a gist asked, "What is the big deal? She wasn't raped . . . besides she's not even a virgin. She probably brought this on herself." I closed my eyes and cried myself to sleep. These people raising me were so clueless as to who I truly was. What I was about. I was devastated. My stomach remained bruised for over two weeks. He'd gotten me pretty darn good for an old guy.
Some of you reading this will respect the fact that this chapter has left me exhausted. I thought I'd get farther than I did but I must stop here. I am crying too hard to go on. This is just the beginning of my sifting. The good news is I am here to share my story and I promise it has a happy ending! God Bless everyone who is following along. Thank you to those who have written me . . .. you give me courage to continue May you be Blessed 10 fold for you two have your own cross to carry and I appreciate what you have shared with me as well. I'll continue when the Holy Spirit gives me my next Chapter.
Wendy, Mom of Many
3 comments:
I need to go back and edit this chapter . . . I see that I made a few gramatical errors . . . I ended up balling my eyes out again . . . the corrections will have to wait. I am exhausted yet joyful to have made it thus far!
don't worry about the errors I didn't even notice..It's perfect its real its you and I loved every second of it..reading your story makes me love u as s person even more than I did before.. you are brave I can't wait to buy your book :-)
Yes and I agree Amanda! Am speechless, Wendy and would love to bring you some flowers out of my garden, and your favorite candy. Bill from our group, certainly was right when he paired us up. Numbers 6:24-26 this day and always!
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