My Story, Part 1
Desaree is one of our dearest friends. She and her husband, Bruno, attend our Wednesday Bible study at the Goldman’s house. Bruno, Desaree, and their dogs, “Scratch” and “Sniff”, are now living off of the streets! This is her story in her own words...
How do you start a story that has no ending yet? Well, I guess the best way to start is the beginning.
When I was born, December 6, 1982, my mother waited two weeks before we left. We went from Texas to California where she and some guy robbed a liquor store. After that, we went straight to Colorado.
Once we were here, she met a guy named Leroy. Leroy and her would party all the time. When they were in the middle of it he would stop just long enough to beat me into unconsciousness everyday until I was two. I lived with my grandma until they found out she drank too. After that, I went from a foster home to a family. For some reason, the mother started beating me. So, I left there back to a foster home until I was adopted to the family I have now when I was almost four.
When I was almost six, my mom now started abusing me. Yelling, hitting, and being just mean. But, I had my dad who is still awesome that took me away when I was 9. We were happy until I turned 11 and we went to Guam.
Once in Guam, he was working so much. Everything from my past just started coming up. I was hanging out with the children in the complex a lot. There were three boys ages 14, 15, and 16. They started coming over to our house and raping me everyday. I was young, and they said they would kill my dad if I told. We left Guam 8 months later. I did have some fun out there though.
When we came back to the States, I was different. I was hurt, angry, and very scared. So I started experimenting with drugs and booze. Soon, I started running away. First it was to my “friends” house. His dad molested me. He made me think that it was ok.
Then, I ran again. This time, instead of to my “friends”, I ran to downtown. I got raped and beat up more times than I can remember. One time I got so sick I died for a couple of minutes in the hospital from a paratonsular abscess which caused pneumonia and repertory failure of both lungs. After that I was locked up for 10 months; 24/7 therapy. It helped so much, but that still didn’t stop the rest...
To be continued...