Caroline Peoples

Depraved (Part 6), by Caroline Peoples

I think we all can remember memories from our childhood good and bad it’s normal right but my earliest memory is of my Muslim father busting all of the windows out of our house and beating my mother as I watched and cried sitting on the living room floor. I had to be about 4 years old. Next memory 5 years old with my dog Kuma under the basement steps of the next house we live in. I was very scared of what I can’t remember. My next memory is of Mr. Love putting his penis to my like lips as he squeezed the back of my neck. I can still remember the taste of it I was 7 years old. Next memory is of my sister giving me a butcher knife to put under my pillow the day she ran away. I was 8 years old and my sister was 13. My next memories are flashes of rapes, my mother working all day and coming home locking herself in her room. My brother throwing parties at night one of his friends spraying me with a beer. Me, loving to go to school. Me never having any friends. Now before you start crying and shit I am not telling you this for pity or so you can start crying over pain you never felt. I tell you these things so you can understand how my mind was slowly being molded, shaped, and formed into an animal. I was desensitized to pain, love, compassion, kindness, and none of the emotions that make you human existed for me. I am going through entire months in a blur. I am drinking liquor like a fish, smoking ounces of weed attempting to function. Attempting to have a semblance of a life. I am moving in 20 different directions and every direction I travel to there is pain. I remember having a sadness in me that enveloped my core and such a negative emotion was wrapped around my heart like a blanket. I was attempting to do what I wasn’t taught. It takes a lot of effort for someone to embark on doing something they’ve never done. I went and got my GED on my own. I signed up for the test, took it, and passed. It was only years later I would hear about about people taking classes to get their diploma. Back then to get into the Service you had to go and get a highschool equivalency certificate and I did so because I was going to go to the Navy. Now I always heard that an African American has no place in the military but I wanted more for my life than what I had. I went to the recruiters office to sign up. I ended up going to Des Plaines to get my physical and things done and I was accepted. Before I ever made it on that journey I was lost to the streets. As much as I wanted better I was afraid to leave what I knew. I was told by my mother some years later that I was supposed to write her name in the sky and as I looked into her eyes I found it odd that someone who never knew to teach me to reach for the stars would expect me to fly a plane one day. I never realized that I could do it. I never realized that I could do anything but basic survival. I knew that I was good at being in the streets and making it to the next morning to tell about the ones who didn’t. Staying alive was my only goal. Living a life was never attainable for me. I met a lot of men some good and some bad. I had a long term relationship with a man that I won’t even give place to at this time. He’ll tell his own story one day if he can get that lying spirit out of him. I let go of bitterness over his sins against me when I realized that we all stand in front of a judge one day. One who only asks questions He already knows the answer to. I am a survivor and I cannot be broken.

To be continued….

Goodnight World,

Caroline Peoples
DOC #163969

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