Russian Watch...M.A.D.D. Chapter 6

By Nellie Cake

Feudin banjos from the movie, Deliverance is echoing throughout the jail. The Feudin banjos was created the year I was born, 1955. City folks ridicule inbred Hillbillies in real life. I can't stand that movie, but we can't battle the framework the lion's share rules. I'm writing compliments of a two year stay with the County. Raping, inbreeding and screwing creatures in Appalachia's mountains is valid.

Hillbilly men screw the damnation out of women and animals, but so do ministers and city men in suits. I grew up with this wiped out poo with a lot of the men on both sides of my family. Family wants me to shut up about it all, but that's not going to happen. My mom's side of the family plays guitars, banjos, pianos, and accordions by nature with no lessons.

I had an awesome grandma and awesome aunts who I loved spending the summers with and dad and mom practically had to drag me away from grandma, my aunts and uncles. We didn't have city garments mom and dad couldn't afford clothes for all of us. I wore hand me downs and mom's clothes. Hillbillies have huge families, mostly blood kinfolk, holler creatures.

There are many dark secrets on both sides of the family, but if laundered in public family disowns me quick. I'm writing compliments of a two year stay with the County. Interbreeding was as common as moonshine, double barrels, Cock battles, and homegrown weed. We built outhouses and later put doors on them. I was born in Indianapolis, Indiana, but childhood was spent in Appalachian mountains with my debased Hillbilly family.

My two older brothers, uncles and cousins assaulted and raped us girls convincing us it's our fault for enticing them. Dad believed all women are born whores and lure men. Explain to a nine year old what luring and a whore is. When the boys were caught trying to rape me or I snitched the family didn't want me around, I expose evil. There was no escape from dad's manhandling. Dad thought mom was screwing men.

I know she tried because I took notes from mom to men, but no one sane could have blamed her. Dad was a Pentecost Oneness evangelist preacher, a volunteer fireman and medic working three days on and three days off. Dad also maintained the Dependable Fire Extinguisher and Equipment Company. Us kids worked with dad on his business and construction. He was a false prophet preacher Charlatan and hated me, but I adored him.

I'm marked a preacher's daughter forever. I anticipated bad circumstances so I fled into the mountains with nature's peace with the exception of uproarious creatures. I was learning to write with a stick in the dirt so I can write about what men on both sides of our families were doing to my sisters and me. I can't talk about a lot of what went on, but if it happened to me or I saw it with my eyes I can and will.

Everyone had large families and women of all ages were pregnant at the same time. Mom, aunts and grandma were having home births in different rooms. Normal was eleven to eighteen. Relatives were blood kinfolk inbreeding inside family. Grandma and grandpa were first cousins. Family originated in the mountains, but in dad's youth he was known in Winchester, Kentucky as a homeless alcoholic drug addict.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nellie Cake
• Release date: Jun 6, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463216446

Nellie Cake

Howdy; I'm Nellie Cake and these are "Memoirs From My Outhouse." I write adult only, violence, murders, rapes, beatings, and nasty words. True stories of murders, crimes, violence, rapes, drugs, incest, alcoholism, inmates, stolen children, homelessness, and erotic murder thrillers. I have forty years of experience in these subjects and forty years of sobriety from drugs and alcohol. I'm an Appalachian inbred Hillbilly and ain't nothing wrong with that. I also write Erotic Murder Thriller series.People who write similar stories usually are not an inbred Hillbilly which makes my story unique. Names were changed to get family and people from the past to shut the hell up. To be a real smart ass extended family is only mentioned. Hillbillies do make moonshine, grow weed, carry double barrel shot guns, and stay bare-foot. I guess city folk wants me to wash my cover all's more often. We don't eat the road kill lesson it's soft. If it's stiff the dogs get it.Four of my children were stolen like I'm a baby factory, the fifth became an armed bank robber with Jesse James. I was kidnapped, beat and raped at nine then witnessed the same man beat, rape and my two nine year old Hillbilly girl-friends. i witnessed the brutal beating and murder of an elderly man.My second husband was a wannabe Clint Eastwood carrying and arson, beating on me and hunting me like an animal. Many pregnancies I lived in the snow then many years hitching in snow hunting for them. Drug dealing and exotic strip dancing were a way to survive in the wake of being annihilated by spouses. I dated my home confinement officer and was honored with a Governor's pardon.My stomach exploded and took a year to walk. Lucifer threw a 16,000 pound building on me causing gangrene and took a year to walk. Worse case of MRSA in history took a year to walk. I maintained employments and continued writing through destitution, pregnancies, savagery, prisons, and northern winters.Life's accomplishments: I won six turkeys, nine trophies battling cocks, birthed five kids, won ten cakes, and caught nine ten pound Bass. I possess gloating rights to angling stories and jaded memories. I want a place for authors of any genre and victims of any crime to have a voice without family or people judging, preaching, bossing, and interfering.I understand they are Holier than me, but they make authors of my genre feel we're a bad image or influence on their precious perfect family. Every story I write is true. God is real, but He can not physically stop rapist, abusers, murders nor narcissist.It just wasn't working for me to be quiet all these years about so many rapes because I never told. So I started writing fiction, erotic murder thrillers. Morbid ways of killing all the men who raped me, and there were many, became my inspiration to write erotic murder thrillers.copyright 2018/Nellie Cake

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Russian Watch

Chapter 6: M.A.D.D.

Noid told George I had a bag of cocaine and weed. I told George, Search my house and drug test me. I had a bag laying out, but I knew he would say, No. Noid pulled his gun and threatened to shoot Saline. He said; Ooo you got your 32 I'm so scared. I said; No I have my 38! He has one of those irritating, annoying high pitched voices. Noid is so screwed up, it's sad he's almost gone. Mike sent me a hand made card with a rose, two hearts and a sash with our names on it.

Saline's home is now the best single wide trailer in this park and mine is the best double wide and a half. I fixed, repaired and remodeled my home and her's. Noid died in his sleep at 6:00 A.M. this morning on October 23, 2007. Looking out my kitchen window they're breaking Noid's legs in front of Saline. He died sitting up in his chair in the living room next door. No one can convince me it's not from alcohol, trumpets and an overload of drugs mixed with epilepsy medication, I smell Ratanal.

Saline watched them take Noid's body out of the park. Saline was standing in the middle of the street shocked and lost without him. Vulnerable to Patty, her crack head daughters, Ratanal, and neighbors smothering and fake consoling her. I brought her inside to get her away from these demons and got her addicted to cigarettes and coffee. Mr Wiener isn't going to do her right by coming up with the titles on either trailer. Noid was in a drug stupor and couldn't function.

He was too wasted to tell anyone he was in Oz land all the time. Now Saline is the Trumpet keeper living in Noid's trailer. There are no titles for most of the trailers in Bithlo. Mine only has one, the other side don't exist. Thinking she could get the titles she spent a lot of money. I thought this would get her mind off Noid. If she comes home everyday and sees a lot of progress would keep her mind occupied. I repaired, sanded and painted her computer.

I put pictures of Noid I had and ran a slide show for when she comes home. She trust me with her home and keys so I can come and go as I please. Micky is home and two rooms and bathroom are knee deep in dirty clothes, soda bottles, dishes, and food. Every dish in the house is full of cigarette butts. The computer, TV and mattress are buried. Food is smashed in the carpet, her bed and she lays in it. Every morning is a vicious nightmare.

I take her to get cigarettes then McDonald's for her breakfast of five double cheese burgers. Then clothes shopping and school gets knocked to the bottom of the list. I have to do whatever she tells me or she'll call the D.C.F. or tell her probation officer I smoke weed yet she does too, she scares me. I live off peanut butter, milk, coffee, and crackers. She gets pissed if I eat any groceries. If I buy five Big-Macs she'll eat three then ask for the other two.

I stay locked in my room away from her bullying and nastiness. I've been using Saline's place to hide from Micky, some mornings I escape. December 14, 2007 when she came home I cooked $150.00 Christmas dinner Micky wanted for Maggie and her friends. I didn't eat again till she requested a meat loaf dinner for Maggie and her friends. I cook for her guest on the weekends, but they never leave me