A girl about the age of 13 sits in the shadows of her room smoking a cigarette, making smoke rings float in the air above her head. The windows are covered with ripped black blankets to keep the light from shinning in, and also to keep her bruises from showing. There are beer bottles lying all around her bed, and a full weed bag lying on her dresser, not even hidden. She just doesn’t seem to care anymore.
She hears noise outside her door, the noise she hears every night… the ferocity of abuse coming for her. She acts ready for whatever may come charging through her door. She knows that she cannot escape since her door is locked on the outside, so why try to deny the obvious? She was going to give into abuse. She slowly put out her cigarette out on the side of her bed, and makes sure her CD’s were safe from harm. Her music was her life, the only thing she would never be able to live without. She didn’t care about anything else, not even herself.
She decided to drift off into the darkness; which her life seemed to consist of. Nothing else mattered but the darkness that consumed her next.
She wakes to the sound of clicking. The lock on her door was opening.
Her mom’s boyfriend steps through the door, and takes a moment to look her in the eye. He needed a taste of her fear to satisfy him. Better yet he wanted her tears, and her bruised body to himself.
Hurtful things came from his lips, but she neither cried nor showed fear. She knew that that was what he wanted, and that is what she wouldn’t give to him. She was tired of the same old, ‘come in and beat her’ routine. She didn’t want to be hit anymore, but all she could do, was find some courage within her and fight him in the smallest ways possible. Anyway she fought would make a difference, it might even keep her living until she’s 16. Then she might be able to drive away from all this. Until then she would have to deal with her life.
Anger flashed across his face as she laid back down on her bed. She was so scared inside that she couldn’t think straight. She knew though, that she would probably die tonight if she showed it.
He slowly stepped forwards until she could smell the booze, and sex on him. He was a pig, but the words never passed her lips, before he was on her, pinning her down to the mattress. She lay perfectly still as he lowered his face down to hers, hating the smell of him she held her breath. She just didn’t know where this was leading. He hadn’t hit her yet. He just was above her, his body pressing roughly against her smaller one. He was heavy and smelly, but she didn’t DARE move. He whispered in her ear, “You’re a real young lady now. You need to know how a man takes a woman because nobody but me is ever going to want something as worthless as you”. It was hard to understand him because his speech was accented, but she got the jiff of what he was trying to say and do, as his hands went to her pants. She tried to fight him off, kicking her legs, screaming, punching, and biting. His only response was the hardening of his grip, and a growl of words from his mouth. “You like it rough then don’t ya”?
The sound of his voice made her tremble beneath him. She didn’t want this to happen to her. She prayed to god as pain struck her hard. He was rough, demanding, and not protected. She hated that she had just given in, she should have tried so much harder to win and get away but she hadn’t, and it had cost her dearly…. Something she would never ever get back.
The boyfriend bailed out when her stomach got larger, and so did her own mother. Neither one of them cared. Her mom had just thought she had been sneaking around, and the boyfriend just didn’t care enough about either one of them to fess up on what he did.
Her stomach got larger and every day; it destroyed her to know what had happened, and to know that he had gotten away with countless visits before she got pregnant.
Months passed…. Slowly but surely. She worked hard to find some kind of adoption service, but there were no parents worthy enough to keep her child. She didn’t want to give her baby up, but she knew if she didn’t then it would either die or be treated as badly as her. Her baby boy was born four months premature, and she still had no family for him to go to. The last couple she went to seemed nice but once again not good enough. Finally, it was either she decided or the courts would decide who he went to. The only couple she could think of was Mr. and Mrs. Freedman. They had been nice to her and bought her things to help her along with her pregnancy. She was happy that her child got to be with such wonderful people. For once her prayers were answered.
She vowed to herself as she watched the doctors take her baby away that she would find someway to re claim him, but for right now she was happy with the gift of naming him.
Her baby was brought into this hard world January 20th 2006 as Conner James Freedman.
Something more important than music has been in mind since.