Thursday, March 19, 2009

Start of an autobiography. I'm going for a total re write. Here is the start, first draft of first part. Gawd, this sucks, I'll never be published

Anna Grace Young was born February 2nd, 1983. Her parents were Dean and Erin Young. She was the first child of this poor young couple. Luckily for Dean and Erin, Dean’s mom and dad were still alive, and loved their newest grandchild more than life its self. Dean was working at two jobs when Anna was born. Both factory jobs, he had just gotten out of the Army, and now he was a husband and a father. He was only 25, but he loved his wife, and his daughter with ever ounce of his being, and would lay down his life if need be to save Anna and Erin’s lives. Money was tight, and if it weren’t for Dean’s mom and dad, I call them grandma Betty, and Papa Donald. There would have been probable homelessness, and hunger.
Now that you know its me…Anna Grace Young, daughter of Dean and Erin Young, grand daughter of Betty, and Donald Young, writing this, I may as well be straight forward with you all.
When I was brought home from the hospital I was brought to a trailer in a trailer park. I have no memory of this trailer, because my parents worked hard to provide for me, and before I turned one year old, my parents had bought a house outside of the small town I was born in. It was in the country, by this time my mom was pregnant with her second child. My parents worked at low paying factory jobs, and my grandparents would babysit. My mom worked at a bean factory a few towns away from our hometown, and she was working there the day she went into labor with my little sister.
Angie was born March 26th 1984. I have no memory of her being born, as far as my memory goes though, she’s always been around. Suddenly there was four of us. We had a home, and my dad found a good paying job at a factory a few town away, about a half hour drive away from home.
It was early in my fourth year of life, that I have memories. I remember my little sister, she was only 13 months younger than I was. Every memory I have of my childhood are the best memories I have. I remember that one year felt like five years, one day felt like two days. As a child time goes by slow.
We had an ideal life. We lived out in the country on a dead end road, so we could play outside all we wanted, and my mom didn’t work so Angie and I had her attention all day. She was always cooking and watching soap operas. Right before dark, my dad would come home, and we would have supper, and then watch TV, after 8 o’clock was our bedtimes, and we would go up to our room, and be put to bed. We had bunk beds, and I had the top bunk. I even remember the nightlight in our room. It was more for me, than it was for Angie. Angie wasn’t afraid of the dark, I was. Often I would wake up from a bad dream, and I’d wake Angie up, and she and I would tip toe into our parents bedroom, and we would crawl up in whatever space there was, and fall back asleep.
We called that house, our Samson house, because it was in this four corner town, called Sampson. One corner was a bar, the other corner a general store, and the other corner another bar, and a car workshop. The bar that my dad went to was called the Hill Top bar, but we called it Eddy Beata’s because that was the owners name, and the owner was usually the only bartender. My dad was still a young man, and had a wild streak in him, and he liked to go to the bar on the weekends. Sometimes we would come along, and play by the pool table or outback.
It was always fun, because I always had Angie, and Angie always had me.
Chapter 2
When I turned five, we moved to Green Bay. The big city, we moved there so my mom could go to school to become a nurse, and so my dad could get better factory jobs. Which he did. Me and Angie went to Mccarthy Elementary school. Actually I went to Kindergarten, and Angie got to stay home. My dad worked second shift, so he would walk me to school every morning Angie always walking along. I went to morning Kindergarten, so my dad and Angie would always be waiting outside when school was over, and we would walk home. Before my dad would leave for work, my mom was always home from school.
Angie and I shared a bedroom again, this time we had a giant water bed. So when you got into bed the bed was already warm. The water bed was so big we didn’t have room for dresser’s, but under the water bed there was built in dresser’s, the rest of the room space was filled with our toys.
It was around this time, everyday when I was dropped off at school, that I would become sad. I wouldn’t make any friends. I wanted my sister, my sister was the one who knew how to make new friends. So in school when play time came around, I would go over into my own little spot, and pretend that I was Michal Jackson, and I would do all these dance moves. When I finished a dance in mind I would here the roar of the crowed. I was a loner, and this followed me into my adult life.
Now, I know everyone is thinking, she wanted to be Michal Jackson? I know, I’m not sure why I liked him. I think I saw some special about him on TV and new that he was famous, and when he sang and danced everyone cheered. This was 1988, and MJ was at the top of the charts. I think it was Thriller, the song I would dance to and sing to in my imagination. I was five, and I haden’t been introduced to music properly yet. That was back when New Kids On the Block were at their height, and I didn’t even know they existed. Thank God!
At home, there were other kids our age who lived in the same apartment complex. Me and Angie became tight with a girl named Crystal. She lived with her dad Keith who was single. I remember my parents wouldn’t let me sleep overnight at her apartment, she had to stay over at ours. Then there were these two other kids, brother and sister. Sylest, and Johnny, were their names, and lived in the apartment complex across from ours. So not in the same building. Johnny and Sylest knew about this secret spot in the back of the apartment complex. There was this wooded area, not a big wooded area, but just enough so it could be a hideout. One day Johnny and his little sister Sylest brought all of the kids our age, including me and Angie down to this hide out. When we got to this hide out Johnny took off his pants, and showed us his penis. I was very intrigued, but Angie didn’t want anything to with it. She watched, but she didn’t want to touch it. Then Sylest would get on her knees and put her mouth on Johnny’s penis until it got bigger. Then Sylest would take off her pants and lay on the ground and Johnny would lick her vagina. After he finished that he would put his penis in her vagina and pull it out and push it in. This was the most fascinating thing to me. How could two kids our age know all about this stuff. Johnny was 7 at the time, and I was 5 almost 6, and Angie was 4 almost 5, and Sylest, Johnny’s little sister was 5, same age as me.
After these sessions Johnny made us promise not to tell anyone, or we would be in huge trouble, and that his step dad would kill his mom. So non of us told. Crystal never told her dad, me and Angie never told our parents, and then in moved a little boy named Ricky. He was 4, and his mom was a pill head, and an alcoholic. My mom was sort of friends with all the other kids parents. I remember once she went to a get together at Ricky’s moms apartment, and we were playing in Ricky’s room, where he had video games, like the kind in an arcade in his room. Suddenly my mom ran into the room and grabbed me and Angie, and made us go home. She never told us why until we were older. It was because they were all doing Cocaine, and passing around pills.
When my mom was younger she had a problem with drugs, but after she married my dad she didn’t use again.
I turned six, and Angie turned five, and now both of us were in school, and my dad had to work swing shift, and my mom was almost done with school. Everyday after Angie and I were done with school, we would go outside and play, and whenever Johnny and Sylest were out we would go down to the hideout, and Johnny would let any of us who wanted to touch his penis, and put our mouths on it, and he would lick out vagina's and then put his penis in it. I remember one day I decided I’d do it, Crystal had done it a few times now, and she said it felt good. So I told Johnny that I wanted to too. Angie was there watching.
I put my mouth on his penis, and I felt it grow, and then he laid me down and took off my pants, and started to lick my vagina, and it felt really good, then he stopped and put his penis in my vagina. That part hurt, but not that bad, because his penis was so small.
That night, Angie told my dad about the hideout, and what I did down there that day. Suddenly my dad went into a rage. He kept screaming at me, is this true, and I kept saying no, because I knew I was going to get into trouble. So then my dad though my sister was lying, and he told her this is a big lie that changes lives, and you have to tell me, did this really happen. My dad took a lighter and light it, and then put it under Angie’s fingers and said, “if she didn’t tell the truth he was going to burn her fingers”. When I saw what was going on with Angie and lighter, I admitted it. I told him everything. How we had been going down to the hiding spot all summer and fall. How Johnny and Sylest showed us how to make ourselves feel good.
Then my dad called the cops, and I had to tell my story to the cops, and that night Johnny and Sylest’s mom, and step dad were brought to jail for sexual abuse. The next week we moved back to our hometown, and my dad and mom would drive to work.
My parents rented this little house, and we went to Oconto Falls school. It was the summer before second grade, and my Grandma Betty found out that she had Cancer, and it was bad. I remember people were always at our house, people were crying.
I didn’t realize that my grandma was dying, and that I would never see her again. I just thought she was really sick, and she’d get better and things would go back to normal. Me and Angie would play in our room, and I remember I wanted to feel that feeling that Johnny had given me when he licked my privates. So I told Angie to get naked, and I got naked too. Then I told Angie that I was going to do to her what Johnny had done to me, except for the penis part. So I licked my sister vagina, and she felt the good feeling too, and then I begged her to lick me so I could feel it. We didn’t think this was sexual, we just thought it was like taking a bath together, and rubbing each others backs, which felt good.
One day my dad walked in on us doing this, and we both go beat with the belt, and after that we never didn’t do it again. A few days later my grandma died. I remember my papa coming over to out house, and he went into my parent room and laid down.
After Grandma Betty died, things happened fast, Papa Donald sold my mom and dad their house, and we moved into Grandma Betty’s and Papa Donald’s house, but Grandma wasn’t living there anymore and neither was Papa, all their furniture was gone, and all of ours moved into there.
Papa moved in with my Uncle Buster, in a small house on Green Bay Ave. in Oconto Falls. Papa would come by a lot and visit, and help us out. By this time my mom had graduated nursing school, and was a nurse at the hospital my grandma Betty died at and she worked swing shift, and my dad worked in a paper mill where he made good money, so we started to get babysitters. We also started a new school in Oconto Falls. It was a Catholic school, and it the first school where I made friends on my own, without the help of my sister.
Two months passed since Grandma Betty died of Cancer, and Papa Donald called all of his children to his house, and told them that he had a bad heart, and wasn’t doing well. A few days later, my parents were both working night shift, so me and Angie stayed at my mom’s parent’s house. Grandma Grace, and Papa Bob, me and Angie has stayed the night, and my mom and dad were going to pick us up later in the day.
When my parents got home from the night shift, they noticed that my grandpa’s truck was in the workshop garage on the bottom of hill, but both mom and dad were tired, so they figured he was working on his truck, and just went to bed. My dad woke up at noon, and got my mom up, because they had to pick me and Angie up. My mom jumped in the shower, and my dad noticed that Papa was still working on his tuck in the garage, so he went down there to see what was up, and on his way down the hill, he noticed that the tractor was on in the garage, and that there was tubing going from the tractors exhaust pipe into my Papa’s truck window, and there was toweling stuck in where the tubing kept the window from closing all the way.
My dad knew even before he walked into the garage what he was going to find. My Papa Donald had committed suicide. Now I wasn’t there when this happened, I was still at Grandma Grace’s, but my Grandma got a call, and said come one, Anna, and Angie, we are going to go swimming at Your aunt Kathy’s. My mom’s sister. They had a pool with a slide. I remember this as one of the funnest times I had with my cousin’s on my mom’s side of the family. Grandma, and my aunt left, and Erica the oldest was left in charge. We swam all day, we played all day, we laughed, and ran, and played hard. Until around sunset. My grandma Grace came back, and told us to get our stuff, and that we had to go home. Something bad had happened, but she couldn't’t tell us what it was. So the whole ride home from Aunt Kathy’s to our house I kept thinking the worst, that one of my parents had died.
When we finally got home, and I saw that both mom and dad were alive, I was relieved, but I saw that they we crying. It was a rare thing to see my father cry. Then my mom told Angie and I, that Papa was dead. He had killed himself this morning. When I was older and asked about what happened on that day, I found out, that when my dad found his father dead in the truck, he started screaming daddy’s dead, Daddy’s dead, and he wanted my mom a nurse to go down and try to help him, but my mom was too scared. She didn’t know how he had killed himself. She figured he had shot himself. Instead she called 911, and the while my father was inconsolable. He blamed himself for not going down their in the morning, when there was a chance of saving him.
In the note Papa Donald left, it said he couldn't’t live without his wife, and since all his children were doing well, and his grandchildren would be okay without him. Looking back, after my grandma Betty died, Papa seemed different. Like he was severally depressed, but everyone mistook suicidal depression as mourning.

2 comments:

AnnaGrace said...

I need to go over this, and make it more readable. I can't even read this out loud, because its too choppy, and doesn't flow. I need to find that flow.

I have to go over and rework this first part. Along with many other changes that need to be done.

Trying to take it one day at a time said...

Whatever, I found your blog and have been reading daily at work (I'm so bad) and this was my favorite part so far!!! I hope there's more coming up for me to read!!! Don't down yourself, I think it's GREAT!