Buried Darkness: The Life of Deedee

By Yeyo Folife

Dees young life was filled with challenges she was unprepared to face, but she did all she could to protect her little sister, Karla. Their mother, Lucy, did what she had to do to make ends meetincluding selling her body to pay for her various addictions. The battered survivor of a lifelong war with drugs, abuse, and worthless men, Lucy also struggled with crippling mental illness.

Living in those conditions, with a mother who could barely care for herself, the girls barely understood that things like stability, responsibility, or hope even existed. But on those days when their grandmother Norveline cared for them, the girls knew a little peace and a little love. Miraculously, on the day when it all seemed to be too much to handle, Lucy reached out for the help that would save her fragile life. With the support of her therapist, she fought to regain control of her life and her tattered family.

Now stable, Lucy dreams of building a new life with the help of Natalie, a new friend who is also fighting familiar demons. Their friendship quite naturally blossoms into something beautiful and healing. Together, the two women and their four daughters form a healthy new family, and Dee and Karla finally know stability at home.

Finally feeling safe enough to be herself, Deenow known as Deannabegins to explore her own curiositi es. What will her life hold, now that she is free to soar?

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Aug 13, 2013
• ISBN: 9781475995558

Yeyo Folife

Yeyo Folife writes to inspire hope, self improvement, and self-respect in women of all ages. She has built a career around helping others as an EMT, emergency dispatcher and is still in the healthcare industry. After her divorce, she met her life partner who she’s been with the last 11 years, who inspires her to pursue her dreams relentlessly. She has three daughters, seven amazing grandsons, and one precious granddaughter. She currently lives in California.

Book preview

Prologue

By: YeYo Folife

To struggle: To resist, tussle, and to fight. When I learned the true meaning of struggle, I realized that this is what I had been doing my whole life. This may be the reason why at times I feel so drained. One day I would have strength, ambition and goals and the next day doing the same damn thing. My days lately feel like a endless routine and like a robot with no soul.

Time had left me behind and I wasn’t sure, I wanted to fight anymore. When I stopped fighting myself I started to grow. The process of just learning to let go and let God was not easy. I vowed when I grew up, I would make sure that when I had children they truly understood what life was really about. Every day since my change I get down on my knees, close my eyes and say To God Be the Glory.

Chapter 1

My name is Deanna Shereux, this is a story about my life, not yours but mine. I’m seven years old, and I’ve been lied to my whole life. At what age does it stop, it seems like the only person, who I can truly count on is my grandmother. My mother has so many friends, but none of them seem to mean her well, my grandmother constantly say’s. I still cannot understand why, uncle John is not here every day. I ask my mom about uncle John and she just tells me you don’t need to worry about uncle John. I can tell by the mean tone in her voice that it bothers her every time I asked her about this man who she has made me call uncle John for several years but for some reason I like uncle John. Uncle John is the only one out of all of mommy’s friends that brings me something every time he comes to visit my mommy. Mommy has several guy friends that she has made me call uncle I never knew that someone could have so many. Most of them are mean and I only hear them arguing and fighting with my mommy. Whenever my new uncles come over my mom is the happiest woman in the world she smiles she sings to the music that she has playing in the background she puts on her prettiest dress she puts on makeup and lipstick. By the time one of my uncle’s leave she’s even more happy. The only thing is she never comes out of her room after they leave. When I go knock on the door to tell her that I’m hungry and Karla needs a bath or a bottle, or needs her diaper changed she gets really angry and I don’t understand why. It seems like she’s only happy behind closed doors with my uncles but I don’t understand why I can’t be a part of that.

It’s Monday morning I am on my way to school. My hair has the same braids I’ve had for months. Since I still can’t really comb my own hair, and make it look presentable, my grandmother tells me to leave my hair like this. I can’t get my mom to wake up to help me get prepared for school, my mom sleeps all day, and stays up all night, the only time she wakes up is to scream and yell at me to turn off the lights but I have not mastered how to get ready for school in the dark yet. I have my own alarm my grandmother bought me for Christmas and that’s how I make sure I’m not late for school. I set it for 7:00 A.M I rise and thank God every day. I brush my teeth, and make sure I don’t have sleep in my eyes, and my breath don’t stink, things my grandmother taught me while staying at her house on the weekends. I take my braids and pull them into a ponytail with some of the hair accessories my grandmother has given me. I don’t know who my father is but he must’ve been Asian because I have long pretty hair and slanted eyes, I look like I could have been one of Kimora and Russell Simmons children. I put on my school uniform to assure I would look just like the others. Good thing for uniforms because if it wasn’t for my grandmother I would never be able to look anything like the others with their Nikes and Reeboks their designer jeans, sweaters and top’s, I see kids wearing on the weekends in the neighborhood. I wish just one day my mother would wake up and take me to school like the other mothers dropping off my classmates. I changed Karla’s droopy diaper, and gave her a fresh milk bottle, dry cereal, and turned the little T.V. on my dresser on cartoons for her. I dashed out the front door when I heard the honk from the school bus out front. I yell bye mommy I love you with no response back, I grab my backpack and head out the front door. I hope when I get home my mom will be awake and dancing around the house like she’s on soul train and its Saturday morning.

I dashed into the cafeteria to eat breakfast I’m starving. I get free breakfast and free lunch and I guess I can say this is another thing as my grandmother would say I should be thankful for. I ran up to Ms. Louise she was the head cafeteria lady at the school. Ms. Louise was really nice and I can tell she liked me she always gave me a small goodie bags to take home for late-night snack. I don’t know how she knew I rarely have food at home but I’m glad she cared enough to do this. Maybe it was the way that I scarfed down my breakfast every morning faithfully no matter what was being served. Ms. Louise weighed about 350 pounds, she was dark skinned with a short nappy Afro, and she has smooth chocolate skin and the biggest dimples. She had warm eyes, like my grandmother and I liked her, all the other kids called her Bigfoot, but my grandmother always taught me to never make fun of anyone because God don’t like ugly, and he ain’t fond of beauty. I never understood as a child what she meant by God don’t like ugly because as a child I seen so many ugly people and always wondered why, if God didn’t like ugly why he would create ugly people. I slammed down my oatmeal, peaches and wheat toast and my box of room temperature milk that Ms. Louise served me this morning for breakfast in less than ten minutes. As soon as I took the last drink the warning bell rings that class will start in ten minutes. I grabbed my backpack put it on my back, take my breakfast tray and put it in the stack to be cleaned. I ran by the window and yelled bye with a huge smile to Ms. Louise as she waves back with a smile and a wink, while handing me my go home bag I shove it in my back pack and I dashed off to class and make it on time. I arrive in my third grade class my teacher is Ms. Short she is not only pretty but she is really nice, she reminds me of Nia Long. Tall, thin, with light brown skin and a beautiful smile, Ms. Short has big dark brown eyes as she wears her hair cut really short like Halley Berry. I love going to school I have learned so much and I get to play with other children my age. The only thing I worry about is my baby sister at home with my mother who’s always asleep, wondering did mommy feed my sister Karla today. Every afternoon when I get home from school Karla’s still in her playpen, she still has on the same diaper from when I changed her before I left, with an empty bottle sitting next to her. One thing I do is leave my T.V on for her, so she can watch Nick Jr. At least they do ABC’s on there.

Every afternoon when I get out of school the only thing I want to do is play like all the other kids but I know that Karla is waiting for me. Its 2:10 P.M. the bell rings and school is out. I make it home from school by 2:30 P.M, I’m the first stop. I rush through the front door I can hear Karla whining, with the cries of tears of joy because she’s been in her playpen all day.

I set my backpack down I ran into my room for Karla. I pick her up and I swing around and I kiss her and I tell her that I love her. I take Karla into the bathroom and take her a bath. I put her on a fresh diaper and clean clothes and tickle her while I’m playing with her. Karla has the prettiest smile, Karla’s dad is white. Karla has big light brown curls and hazel green eyes and a dimple in her left cheek. She looks like Halle Berry’s daughter or a handmade baby doll that you would see on TV. My sister and I both must look like are fathers because neither one of us look much like our mother. My mother Lucy is 5'9 and lean. My mother is brown skinned, and pretty, but she doesn’t do much to maintain that pretty like other women I see. My mother hears us playing and she comes out of her room rubbing her eyes asking what time is it. By this time it’s almost 4:00 P.M and I have Karla in her high chair feeding her some of the things Ms. Louise put in my go home bag, she makes for me every day. Ms. Louise put in two bologna sandwiches with cheese, a few packets of cheese and crackers, two fruit cups, two Capri Suns, three milks and some baby carrots, and two bags of chips. I fed Karla a fruit cup I took the meat and cheese off one of the sandwiches cut it up in small pieces and let Karla eat that. Karla is two years old so she had enough teeth to devour whatever I sat in front of her.

I hear a knock at the door. I look at my mother, as she stands there still wearing yesterday’s look. She shushes me and tells me to take my sister Karla into my room. I do as she asked. I could hear her, running towards her bedroom, and spraying what sounds like air freshener throughout the house., while yelling who is it. I hear the doorbell ring again. I heard my mother yell damn hold on! I peek out my room, and see mother hopping in place trying to quickly change her clothes while throwing on this wig she had in her other hand. I was looking beyond the hall way wall that separated the living room, I saw this white lady, and white man standing at the door. Both were holding a clip board. They asked for Lucy Shereux. With an attitude my mother said that’s me, and who the hell are you! The lady introduces herself as Mrs Goodwin from the department of social services, and then points to her partner and say’s this is Mr. Mallack. Mrs. Goodwin went on to tell my mother she was here, because she had received several reports that two young kids in this residence had been suffering from child neglect, and possible abuse. My mother held her composure. Which was surprising, I just knew she was going to fly off the handle, in defense. Normally if someone said something to my mother she didn’t like she would just cuss a person out. Mrs. Goodwin asked if her and Mr. Mallack could come in and ask my mother a few questions, and see my sister and me. I can tell my mother didn’t want to, but she let them in. I put Karla in her crib, and ran into the bathroom, at the other end of the hallway. I got a warm wash cloth, put a little soap on it for smell, and washed Karla up, so she didn’t smell like the bologna she was just eating. I quickly shoved everything under my bed, and spread my covers, making sure, that things look right to these people. I had enough sense to remember everything my grandmother had taught me. My mother use to say stuff like if you don’t act right I’m going to have them people come take you and your sister. I knew how big sisters were to protect their little sisters, I’ve seen several show’s on T.V.

I hear my mother act nicer than she normally does, softly calling my name from afar. I pick Karla up, and we go into the living room. I sit next to my mother, and she takes Karla out of my arms, while Karla tussled trying to be in my arms. My mother introduces Karla and me to the workers. I learned from my grandmother several time’s, never speak until I’m spoken to when grown folks are talking. So I sat there with my mouth closed. Besides I didn’t want a whooping for saying the wrong thing in front of these people. Mrs. Goodwin asked if she could look around, while Mr. Mallack asked my mother a few more questions. My eyes followed every step of Mrs. Goodwin, while she remained visible. I saw her go into the kitchen, open the cabinets and the refrigerator, and write something on her clip board. I then saw her head down the hall way, into my room. At that point she was out of sight. She returned moments later, and sat back next to Mr. Mallack, while he continued to ask my mother a bunch of stupid questions. Like does she work, who lives with us, is she married, and does he live in the home. Who takes care of us when she’s away from the home. What ever question he asked my mother she had an answer for his many questions. After what seemed like hours. Mr. Mallack looked at Mrs. Goodwin, and said, well I’m finished do you have any more questions for Ms. Shereux? Mrs. Goodwin, smile and said no, she looked at my mother and thanked her for her time, and said she would be in contact. The workers both stood at the same time like soldiers and headed towards the door. My mother handed Karla back to me, and followed them. She quickly said bye, and shut the door. I could see a look on my mother’s face I was not use to seeing. She told me to take my sister back in the kitchen, and finish feeding Karla while she went to take a shower.

Chapter 2

It’s been a few months since our visit from the Social Workers. I guess they found or didn’t find what they were looking for. My grandmother constantly stayed on my mother, with prayer and scripture from the bible. Telling mommy she better change her evil ways. I hope someday soon something changes with my mother. Years of living like this, I’m starting to understand who my many uncles really are. I’m starting to understand why my mother sleeps all day and stays awake all night.

The other day mommy left to go to the store and I went to her room, and I saw some needles, a pipe and a few bags of white stuff on her nightstand and next to that was an ashtray full of cigarette butts. I knew what needles looked like, my grandmother was a diabetic and I’d have to retrieve her medicine when I spent the night with her. But I didn’t know my mother was a diabetic also. I fed Karla and myself some microwaved Top Ramen Every time I eat I put my dishes in dishwasher, something I learned from my grandmother. Since the visit with Social Workers, my mother made me clean house every day. I didn’t mind, I really enjoyed having a clean space. My mother would go weeks without cleaning the house. Even though we had a dishwasher, we rarely used it in the past. I noticed the living room has been a little cleaner. I overheard my mother talking to someone on the phone. She told them, she had to keep the house clean in case them bastard’s, came back.

10:00 P.M. that night almost five hours later, my mom comes back in the door in a raging fit cussing and yelling. Karla and I were in my bed fast asleep and the slam of the door startled me out of my sleep. I’m glad Karla was still asleep because Lord knows what is getting ready to happen. I could hear my mom behind the closed doors protected by the thin walls ranting and raving about how that nigga is not going to get over on her. How dare he take her money and run, he’s going to get what’s coming to him. I figured this must have been one of the many fights, I’d hear my mother having with one of my uncles. I could hear her talking to someone, but the voices were different. Sound like she has several people in her room. Like she was talking to someone else which is something I lately heard. Late at night even when I know no one else was in the house but the three of us. I often heard her talking to someone named Marsha and for some strange reason I would hear Marsha answer her back.

One day I went to her room and I knocked on the door wondering who Marsha was because I’d never seen anyone named Marsha come to the door asking for my mother. My mother and Marsha would have these long conversations late nights that would last for hours I would hear my mother laughing and then I would hear another strange voice laughing after hers wondering for months who was on the other side of that door with my mother. She never answered.

Days and weeks went by and my life stayed the same I’d rush out to school, I’d rush home to Karla I’d feed Karla and take her a bath and I play with her just to see her smile her beautiful smile. I’d shut my door and turn on my clock radio and listen to the music to escape what was going on in the next room. I’d hear moans, and banging against the wall, like my mommy was being hurt. The only time I heard these noise was, when my uncles as I was forced to call them where coming in and out.

Lately this soon familiarizing voice of Marsha and my mom all started getting too familiar. One night about 2:00 A.M I could hear my mom throwing things in her bedroom, yelling at Marsha to get out. She was yelling at Marsha at the top of her lungs, screaming you have ruined my life you’ve taken everything away from me I hate you I’m going to kill you, you trifling bitch. I was afraid with the covers over my head, I heard my mom run out of her bedroom and it sounded like she was running from something or someone, was Marsha chasing my mom? I peeked out my bedroom and I could see my mom looking like a mad women. She looked like she had just gotten into a fight with someone her hair was all over the place, her eyes looked evil and I was frightened as to who she was running from. All I know was I needed to help my mom I didn’t want her to kill this person Marsha I needed my mom and so did my sister Karla. I snuck into the other room I picked up the phone I knew how to call 911 in an emergency so I called. A lady’s voice was on the other line. She asked my name and I told her, Deanna. She asked what was wrong. I told her that my mother was screaming and throwing stuff and I think she needed help. The dispatcher lady on the other line told me her name was Andra, and said everything would be fine. She asked my address and confirmed my telephone number, and assured me help was on the way. Andra asked was I okay. I told her that my baby sister and I were hiding in the corner and I was scared. She continued asking me questions. Karla was crying, I could barely hear Andra the dispatcher, so I had to have her repeat what she was saying. I peeked over the couch to see where my mom was, as soon as I popped my head up a half dead plant in a large vase came hurling towards Karla and me. I ducked back down and it hit the wall behind me nearly missing my head I started to cry. The curtains had been torn down from the hangings and it was late and dark outside only the light from the moon shine through the darkness. I buried my face into my baby sister’s back and rubbed her face to try to get her to stop crying. I could hear the sirens roaring from afar, and soon I heard my name being called from outside, it was a man he said he was the police I looked up and could see the flashing lights shining through the window. He said he was there to help, He called me by name. Deanna could you open the door! I looked towards the door;