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I do it cause I love You
My name is Jesse. I am a seven-year-old girl. Brown hair, blue eyes, and perfect teeth. It may seem that everything in my life is rainbows and butterflies, but it is far from that. I live with my grandparents because my mom live way up north. She lives with a boyfriend that abuses her, but can’t get away from it. I’d rather live with my mom instead of with my grandparents. The secret that no one knows is that my grandpa sexually assaults me everyday.
I haven’t told anyone because if I do, I’m afraid I won’t ever get to see my mom. But having to go through him touching me everyday is not fun at all. It use to be once a day, but as time passed it got more and more. The only person I try to tell is my grandma. Her advice is to stay away from him. I try my very best to do that, but he follows me no matter where I go. When I go to school, that is the only place I do not want to leave. I feel safe and secure, kids might pick on me, but it’s better than being at home. I don’t know why he does it, but I hope one day he will stop.
Another day. Normal, well to me at least it is normal. When I got home though things changed drastically. I walked in to door and my grandpa grabbed me and pulled me into his room. He said if I screamed my mom would be killed. As he started undressing me I got panicky. Before he took my shirt off I screamed for my grandma. She came busting into the room. She slapped, punched and kicked my grandpa, grabbed me, and went out of the room. She helped me put my clothes back on and sent me downstairs to go by my auntie. As I walked downstairs I heard my grandma and grandpa fighting. But that was ok, to help me forgive and forget I drank a strawberry whine cooler. That helped me. A LOT.
The next day I went to school and they called me down to the nurse’s office. I was still kind of tipsy. They asked me if anything was happening in my house. I said, “A lot of things happen in my house.” They then asked if anything strange happens in my house. “Other than my grandpa touching me, everything is normal.” They looked at each other, and then back at me. “How does he touch you?” I said, “He just touches my private parts, nothing big.” They then called another lady into the room. My mind woke up at that moment. What did I just do?
The lady that had entered the room was a social worker, Mrs. Peggy. She told me that I was going to take a ride with her friend, Mrs. Michelle. I looked up and stared at her. I knew that this was not going to end well. I took Mrs. Michelle’s hand. She led me to a small silver car. We drove for about twenty minutes to get to a big office building. I sat there in a little kid’s room for five hours. I didn’t know what was happening. I just wanted to go home. At around ten o’ clock pm Mrs. Michelle came in and told me it was time to go. I looked at her, nodded my head, and followed her to the car. It was about time I get to go home.
When we finally got to my grandmas house, I was so relieved. All of a sudden fighting out the door was my grandpa, hand cuffed with two cops carrying him to their cruiser. I knew right then, that I had made a horrible mistake. The next person out the door, crying like a baby, was my grandma carrying a bag of my stuff. I asked grandma what was going on. She said I had to go away for a little while. Right there, in that moment, I started balling. The thought of never getting to see my grandma cut me real deep. But the thought of what’s going to happen to my mom made me feel like dying that very moment.
Again in the car driving, but this time I didn’t know where we were driving too. Maybe their going to take me to a concentration camp like Hitler did to the Jews. Wherever they were taking me, I wasn’t going to like it. I noticed that we were driving for about an hour and then we finally arrived at this old, rundown looking house. As we walked up the steps, I could smell the stench of the house. It smelled like vomit and bad, old soup. In the doorway appeared an old, black lady. Her hair was white and her skin was all wrinkled. Her breath smelled like onions. I could not believe this was the place they were making me stay. All I thought was, “Welcome to hell.” After the social lady left the old, black women threw my bag of stuff at me and pointed upstairs. I started my way upstairs, as I did all the other foster kids stopped, looked at me, and pointed to the room. They looked sad and broken, the way I was feeling at that moment. I went into the room, threw my bag in the corner, and put my pajamas on. When I was done, I looked around the room. There were six mattresses on the floor; I guess a bed for each kid. I look on top of one dresser, there was on T.V. I turned it on, and nothing, nothing but fuzz.
As I turned off the T.V., I looked around the room once more. There were bags full of the other kids stuff, laid all around the floor. As I heard a lady yelling downstairs I thought, “I hope I don’t have to stay here long,” then headed downstairs. As I met the bottom of the stairs, I saw all the other five kids. The old, black lady asked if I needed to take a shower, I answered no. she then yelled, “Oh well your taking one anyways!” I looked at the others, they just looked down. Those kids look like lost souls, forgotten by the world. I won’t be forgotten will I?
I got a pair of underwear out of my bag and headed towards the bathroom. I closed the door, locked it, and turned around to see what I was up against. The bathroom was actually one of the nicest rooms in the house. At least she cared about the cleanliness in the bathroom. I turned the water on and thank goodness, it was clear. The first time in this utterly disgusting house I got to enjoy a nice, hot shower. As I got out and dried off, I felt a lot better then I did before. But then from downstairs I heard her yell my name and she didn’t sound happy. I ran downstairs to see what was going on. She walked up to me and screamed in my face, “You used hot water, no one is suppose to use hot water but me! You are going to go upstairs and take a cold shower to get the hotness off of you. Now go!” I just looked at her, glanced at the other kids, and ran back upstairs. I could not believe she makes all the kids take cold showers, and on top of that sleep on the floor. What was this ladies problem?! When I was done I went into the “kid’s room” to see which bed was mine. When I found the only blankets I saw in the whole room were baby blankets. This lady has got to be kidding me.
As I was laying down all the other kids came up and got in their beds as well. When everyone was laying down, the lady came up, said “goodnight”, and slammed the door. After I heard her go downstairs I asked the other kids if it gets worse then what I saw that night. They said, “Yes, if you don’t finish eating in five minutes, she throws the rest of your food away. Also, you have to get up at 5am everyday to clean the whole house. You don’t stop cleaning till around 6pm. She also has mice in her house and they nibble on your fingers when your asleep.” I thought, “This really is hell.” I couldn’t really sleep that night. I was missing my home, my grandma, and my mom. I can’t believe that I told on my grandpa. It’s all my fault that I am at this horrible place. I finally fell asleep around 1am, I knew I was going to be tired for cleaning, and I didn’t care. My social worker was coming today at noon. So all I have to do is last till 12pm, tell her the conditions of the house, and get myself and the others out of that place. Let’s just hope its going to work out the way I want it too.
At 5am am alarm went off, which meant time to get up and start cleaning. We first started in our room. We dusted, vacuumed, cleaned windows, folded blankets, and cleaned the closet full of who knows what. That all took about an hour. We then moved on to do the three other bedrooms, two walk in closets, and the bathroom. By that time it was 11:50am. The lady told me to go get dressed and brush my hair. I did and by the time I was done my social worker lady was here, Thank God. I got into the car with her, she started driving towards downtown Milwaukee it looked like. I then blurted out all the things that were wrong with the house. She then told me, “No other child has complained about her house. We also have not had any reports of mice or forcing the kids to work. I can tell them to look into it, but that wont happen for about two days.” I just stared at her. I couldn’t believe she didn’t believe me. I then asked, “Can I go to a different foster house?” She stopped the car, looked at me and said no.
I just sat in the backseat, staring out the window, not believing what I just heard. I am going to have to stay in that “hell hole” for at least a year, “Id rather die” I thought. But if I just have to suffer one year at that house, I will, just to get to see my family again. We then stopped in front of a brown, rectangular building. I had no clue what this place was or what went on inside it. I just wanted to take as long as possible, so I didn’t have to go back to that house. As we went inside a tall, skinny lady greeted us. “Hi, you must be Jesse. Today we are going to take a video of you of your upcoming trial.” I just stared at her. “Did I do something wrong?” I asked. “No honey, you didn’t do anything wrong. But your grandpa did. You have to tell the jury what your grandpa did to you so he can’t hurt you anymore,” the lady told me. She then led me to a small, square room. It had a little camera sticking out of the wall so they could record what we talked about. We stayed in that room for about two hours. Then I went back out to meet my social lady. She said I was going to go to a place to see my mom. After and hour, we got to this little house looking building. I couldn’t wait to see my mom
Once we got inside, I had to go upstairs to a little kids play room. I waited about fifteen minutes. Then I went downstairs to a little white room, with toys inside it. All of a sudden the door opened and there was my mom. I ran up to her and hugged her as tight as I could. I asked her when the other lady left if I was going home with her. Sadly, she said no. She told me I have to wait until the trial was over to go home with somebody. I then told my mom about all the horrible things about my foster house. She told me she would get me out of there as soon as possible. Are little visit lasted about an hour and a half. Then we had to say goodbye and I started crying. I didn’t want to go back to the horrible foster house. My mom said she will get me home as soon as she could. Then my mom left, wiping her eyes. After I calmed down, my social lady and I got back into the car for the long drive to the “House of Hell”. I hoped that someone would take my advice seriously and change my foster house. As soon as I got back, I had to start cleaning again. When it was time to go to sleep, I prayed, and thanked God for keeping my mom safe.
The next morning my foster mom told me to pack up my things because I was going to a different foster house. When I went up into the room I smiled a huge smile. As soon as I got downstairs my foster mom told me she never had a child say such horrible things about her house. Ten minutes later my social worker got there and we left. We started driving towards downtown Milwaukee, so at least it was closer to my family members. When we finally got to the house, it was about fifteen minutes later. The house was two stories, brown with black trim, it looked homely. We walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. A lady opened the door, she was black, beautiful, and plumpy. This lady looked way better than the last.
She told us we were welcomed in. As soon as I walked in I saw another girl around my age. She smiled, and looked like a nice girl. The new foster mom was April and her daughter was Keisha. When my social lady was talking to April, Keisha showed me to the room where I would be staying. It was a regular sized kid’s bed with mats on it. I thought it was in case a kid peed. I knew I wasn’t going to need those, so I took them off. The girl didn’t object, next I put my stuffed animal, the one my grandma gave me, on the bed. Keisha started laughing as I put it on the bed. So she’s not as nice as I thought, well, everything else is going good. When it was dinner time, we all sat at the dinner table and ate dinner. They asked about my last foster house, so I told them about it. They said they felt bad for me and none of those things would happen at their house. After dinner, Keisha and I brushed our teeth, then went to bed. This house was way better then the last. It is now December of 2002. It was winter break and things have been going very well. I have had many visits with my mom, grandma, and even my dad. I was so excited because my mom and grandma said I would be going home soon. I was so happy that things were going good.
It was New Years Eve at 8pm. We were watching a movie until New Years. At midnight we made a whole lot of noise, then everyone went to bed. I slept on the couch that night, but that was a bad idea. In the morning I woke up to April and Keisha staring at me. As soon as I looked at them April said, “You little rat, you stole my credit card, I am going to call your social worker tomorrow and tell her you need to be moved.” I sat up and just stared at her. What a warm welcoming from the New Year. As April promised she called Michelle to tell her she wanted me removed. Michelle told April that she will get me removed as soon as possible. As April was hanging up I saw a card under the couch. I pulled it out and told April it was under the couch the whole time. She took it and stared at it. She said I was off the hook this time, but do not let it happen again. After April left I saw her daughter standing there with a shocked look on her face. She then narrowed her eyes at me and said, “You little bug, you are not meant to be here. I am going to keep trying to get you out of here. I won’t give up until you’re gone.”
A month has passed it is now February. The second week, Michelle came and told me I was going home. I was so excited that I jumped up and down. We packed all my things up, making sure I didn’t forget anything. I didn’t know if I was going by my grandma or mom, but either one would be fine with me. We started driving towards Milwaukee. We got off the freeway and drove about five minutes, then stopped in front of a apartment building. It was big and brown, I could see my sister in the window on the top floor. Then the front door opened and out ran my mom. I was so happy, I get to live with my real mom.
My experience in the foster care system was not the best. Still, in the end it was a happy ending. Since that February night in 2003, I have been living with my mom. I am now 17 years old, the year is 2012. My little sister, Alyssa, is 12. We still live in an apartment with my mom and step-dad. We are waiting for my mom to finish nursing school so we can get a house and other things. My life with my mom has not always been easy, but the good times stick out more than the bad. I just thank God that I am here with my mom and no one else.