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Mal Criado
Mal Criado
Mal Criado
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Mal Criado

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Child Abuse meets Child Torture. Thug Life meets Boxing and a Dark Past ruins a Bright Future in Rolon's Riveting story. "Mal Criado" substantiates hope amidst a painful childhood, troubled adolescence and directionless adulthood.

Muhammad Ali, The Greatest, once quoted, "he who is not courageous to take risks will accomplish nothing in life." Author Jesse James Rolon proves this line right in his open, brutally detailed debut book titled Mal Criado. The author masterfully describes the delicate fragments that made up the life of Jack some time ago.

Jack was an unwanted child, robbed of a relationship with his biological father and left to live in the hands of a sadistic mother. He was often, if not always, literally beaten up to nothingness, whipped and wounded with objects, or drowned in a basin of water to his very last breath. The list of unimaginable abuses goes on. He cried himself to sleep repeatedly, yearning for the love and affection of a mother he never had.

Fed up with the purposeless and incessant beatings, he resorted to run away, hoping things would be better far from home. The foster homes he was placed in were by far the worst remedy to a delicate mind. At juvenile detention, things got even worse living with disturbed teens. He got into a lot of fights and joined a gang. Nonetheless, he felt futile and desolate with the violent company.

Growing up in hate was a choice he barely had control of. But, Jack eventually looked for a deeper purpose in life. A peer mediation program opens his eyes to a life far different from the one he already lived. Little by little, time passed as he realized there were more than just the fights, revenge and the gang to live for. This is when he redirects his anger in boxing. He becomes champion in his weight class, graduates high school and meets the girl of his dreams.

Mal Criado, despite the tortures life can put one through, depicts how a person has a choice to find goodness and succeed in a ruthless, wicked world. But can Jack overcome the shadows of his dark past that tower over him since his childhood?

LanguageEnglish
PublisherXlibris US
Release dateJun 11, 2013
ISBN9781479783007
Mal Criado
Author

Jesse James Rolon

Jesse James Rolon obtained his CDL in 2004 and has since traveled in 41 states in the U.S. He is a proud father to his daughter, Nayarit, and a loving uncle to his nephews and nieces. He is an avid chess player and dedicates most of his time with his family.

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    Book preview

    Mal Criado - Jesse James Rolon

    Copyright © 2013 by Jesse James Rolon.

    Library of Congress Control Number:        2013901290

    ISBN:        Hardcover        978-1-4797-8299-4

    Softcover        978-1-4797-8298-7

    Ebook        978-1-4797-8300-7

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

    in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

    without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

    product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

    to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

    Rev. date: 06/04/2013

    To order additional copies of this book, contact:

    Xlibris Corporation

    1-888-795-4274

    www.Xlibris.com

    Orders@Xlibris.com

    124167

    CONTENTS

    Author’s Notes

    Know Speech. No Speech.

    Good Memories

    Precious Ed

    No Friends Allowed

    Beach Speech

    A Typical Day For Ed

    Why…

    My Routine

    Bruised And Used

    Destruction And Malice

    The Importance Of School

    An Unfamiliar Face

    The Bathtub

    Cash For Cans

    No One Loves A Stepdad

    Paperboy

    The Bat

    Having It Tough In Middle School

    An Act Of Violence

    Big Boys

    The Overdue Talk

    Fourteen Years Old… Kicked Out On The Streets

    Ed’s Defiance, My Liberation

    A New Beginning

    A Friend’s Betrayal

    Juvy

    Something Is Not Right

    The Program

    A Violent Foster Home

    Different Circumstances

    The Bad Choice

    The Best Choice

    What Lies Behind The Glove

    I Miss You, Mom

    My Solace

    A Mirror Image

    Fight Night

    The Gold Chain

    A Hug Says It All

    Thoughts Speak Louder Than Actions

    Unrestrained Anger

    Flashbacks

    A Different Feeling

    Behind The Wall

    Not What I Expected

    Isolation

    What Could Have Been

    The shattered, horrific life of Jack’s childhood leaves me wondering how he had the strength to wake up, to trust and love, to learn, to share. Jack has shown the strength and compassion of an army to pull himself through this ordeal. May God forgive us for failing to shelter all of our children.

    -Dr. Lora McNeece Barrett.

    Lecturer, University of Massachusetts.

    Mal Criado is a devastating story of a young boy’s experiences of horrific abuse. Stories such as these are almost unbelievable, but are more common than one might dare to think-and this one took courage to write.

    -Magdalena Gómez, co-editor of Bullying: Replies, Rebuttals, Confessions and Catharsis.

    Every parent should read Mal Criado. Jack’s stories are tales of triumph and healing . . . I thank him, because, he had the courage to write OUR pain down, so WE CAN RISE above OUR past.

    -Mamadi Victory

    Spanish translations

    Mal Criado: means a bad upbringing; also used to scold a misbehaving and contemptuous child.

    Gang terms

    Represent: To claim or declare something as yours; to belong to, be a part of; in a proud and aggressive manner.

    For my Father and Mother have forsaken me, But the LORD will take me up

    —Psalm 27:10

    AUTHOR’S NOTES

    All of the names in this story have been changed to maintain the privacy of others. This book is based on the life of Jack, the main character of Mal Criado.

    Mal Criado takes the reader behind the curtains of a severely abusive childhood and the sadistic mother who subjected Jack to every child’s worst nightmare. His story is nothing more but a dark moment as he sheltered himself with his only defense, the resilience of a child.

    This book covers Jack’s ages from 5-23. The second half of his story will be told in my next project: Mal Criado 2

    KNOW SPEECH.

    NO SPEECH.

    Age 5. The sounds of birds chirping in the morning awaken Jack from his sleep. The comforting warm air hugs his body as he sits upright on his bed, yawns and stretches his fatigue off. The sunlit room welcomes him to a new day as he wipes his sleepy eyes to help adjust to the bright sunlight. His child like nature takes over as he hums the itsy bitsy spider, until his playtime is interrupted by the sounds of the neighborhood Kids playing. He rushes to his bedroom window to catch a glimpse of the fun. The sounds of the tag you’re it game could be heard from across the street. Kids laugh hysterically as they run and dodge the one trying to tag them. The view puts a smile on his face. He mutters inaudible words as he continues to look on all the fun and the excitement causes him to jump up and down on his toes. His mom enters the room breaking his innocent play as she searches through his closet and throws a matching outfit on his bed. Jack has to hurry his clothes on as fast as he can, as he is late for his appointment. He walks into the kitchen and towards the fridge to grab something to eat until he’s impatiently yanked by his shirt, directing him to the opposite direction of the fridge. His mother rushes him out the front door and into the back seat of her car. She slams the door shut as Jack fastens his seatbelt with his tiny hands. She walks around the car, opens the driver side and scoots herself onto the driver seat as she inserts her key into the ignition creating a stuttering sound that repeats itself over and over. She punches the steering wheel and screams at the top of her lungs over the failed attempt to start the vehicle. Eventually, the car yields to his Mom’s verbal demands as the engine roars. She pulls out onto the street and speeds away. The sound of the vehicles directional light resonates insides the car with each turn. She screams at the cars in front of her because they are blocking her path. Jack looks out his window to soak in the joyous view of the outdoors. He sits upright to be closer to the window as the car approaches a nearby park, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Baseball games that were about to commence. The bleachers were filled to capacity with cheerful parents, looking on the field, hoping their kid gets to shine with a great play. Jack looks on with a smile and imagines being the pitcher that wins the game until the nearby houses block his view as his Mom drives past the field, breaking his day dream.

    I looked forward to this day because I got to hold Mom’s hand on the way into the building. We always waited until a lady called us into a small well-lit room with posters of children surrounding the walls. I played with all the toys I wanted, and the lady always gave me candy. She had a smile that brightened up my day. She and Mom would speak to each other, occasionally looking at me as I sat playing with toys on a colorful rug. After their conversation, the lady turned her attention to me, saying my name with such excitement in her voice. She always sat next to me on the rug and played with me. A soothing fragrance emulated from her as she sat across from me. She tried to get me to talk with her, but I was too busy having fun. She placed large papers with pictures on them—holding them up for me to see, interrupting our play—and kept repeating words to me. Her smile was gentle and comforting as she held up a picture for me to associate with the word she was trying to have me repeat. In a very slow, kind, and patient manner, she spoke with a calm voice. Apple… say, ‘Apple,’. I was too occupied playing with all the toys before me to look at her. I tried my best to repeat after her with low-toned words, struggling to pronounce them correctly. The lady always got excited and praised my efforts whenever I succeeded. Mom sat in her chair, smiling at me. I cried when it was time to leave because I did not want to stop playing with the lady, but she always made me feel better with a hug. I reached out to hold Mom’s hand, but she was always in a rush to get me inside her car. I remained silent and stared out the window as Mom drove home. After many sessions, I became proficient at the task of speech; however, I was not allowed to speak at home because there was always an issue with it. I learned a lot of words and how to use them to express myself and was learning a lot of new cool stuff like different colors and shapes. My favorite color has got to be green because it grabbed my attention the most. I liked school a lot because it was very fun. But every time I’d come home excited to share what I learned in school, Mom shunned me for reasons I knew nothing of. I became accustomed to not speaking at all. I did not know who Mom was because she never interacted with me. There were times when I wanted to hug her, but she always told me to get away from her. She seemed upset with me all the time. But as much as she pushed me away, I always tried my best to look for her affection. My mom is a beautiful woman and I love her a lot.

    GOOD MEMORIES

    Age 6. My best memories were of the summertime when my stepdad was always nice to me and always made the boring days seem exciting. He worked as a janitor and was due for retirement in a couple of years. He was old-fashioned in many aspects. He always dressed in khaki pants and a dress shirt even to work on his cars. He was a dark-skinned man with an early 1950s persona. Sometimes it was very boring to be around him because of the music he listened to and the things he spoke of. He always took me with him to work on his collection of cars, and my stepdad was very popular in the neighborhood. Because I was very quiet, he rarely spoke with me, but I liked riding in the passenger seat as he cruised around the neighborhood. He was an eloquent man and a talented mechanic with more friends than I could count. That man would fix everything that had to do with a car. I knew the junkyard and parts store more than I knew a playground. Sometimes we never got to the garage because he’d bump into some of his friends at the stores and always had long conversations with them. I liked being with him all the time because I got to play outside, digging holes in the dirt and playing with rocks until he said it was time to go. He allowed me to go wherever I wanted and never made an issue of anything and he did not scream at me or get angry with me like Mom did. He never seemed bothered to see me walk around the junkyard in the hot summer days, playing around the cars and exploring inside all the wrecked cars. The smell of the yard was musty and offensive at times, but I got used to the smell. It was always the two of us together.

    Occasionally, the four of us enjoyed the summer together—Ed, my only sibling from a different father; Ruth, my Mom; and Rico, my stepdad. Special events were when we’d all go to the lake in the summer time to swim. Mom would cook food on the grill, and Rico always had jokes to tell. It was the year where I got to enjoy being a kid as I got to swim as much as I wanted, and Ed was a lot of fun to play with because we had nothing to fight over. It was the summer where Mom seemed happy with Rico and never had time to bother with me much. The weather was always perfect. I played for hours in the water and only came out to eat. Sometimes we would visit the amusement park early in the morning and leave when it was dark out after we had been on all the rides. My relationship with Mom continued to be distant. Mom was never affectionate with me but showered Ed with all the affection he could handle. It was never the right time to hug Mom like Ed did. She always said she was busy when I tried to kiss her. I remember my teacher from school saying that good things come to those who wait. I couldn’t wait for the day when it would be my turn to be hugged. She always took Ed to fun places, leaving me behind for Rico to babysit, so I’d get to watch all the cartoons I wanted and sit where it was most comfortable. My presents during the Christmas season were clothes and a toy or two. Ed always got the toys I’d see on television, and it was real fun to watch him play with them. Sometimes he’d let me play with them too, but he never wanted me to touch them in front of Mom. One day, Mom took Ed and me to a school to sign Ed up for the Scouts. There were kids of all ages lined up for registration. The older kids wore a light brown uniform with a scarf around their necks and a baseball cap, while the younger kids wore similar uniforms, but theirs were all blue. I will never forget the look of happiness on all the kids’ faces as they exchanged scout stories among themselves. Mom said I would be joining the Scouts at a later time because funds were low, and Ed left for camp the next day. I could not wait to be a Scout. I had no one to interact or play with during Ed’s absence. Things were different not having Ed around because Mom was never happy to see me and always wanted me to stay in my room to watch cartoons. My stepdad kept reminding Mom of the deadline for my Scout registration, so she took me to the store to buy a Scout uniform for me. I remember being excited about it, but she said the uniform was too expensive and walked out of the store, so I spent the summer at home while Ed was gone for a little over a month. I always felt singled out. She always changed her mind on things she said she would do for me and always kept her word with things having to do with Ed. I thought maybe I should stop trying to hug my mom, because she was getting tired of it. Maybe that is the reason she was always upset with me. I was not allowed to play outside and had to stay in my room the entire summer. The weeks Ed was gone dragged because I always had nothing to do. I learned to make everything around me fun. I was allowed to leave my room to eat and use the toilet but had to return. I played with Ed’s toys a lot until it was dark out. One day mom walked into my room carrying a basket of clothes. She looked as if she was angry at something as she stared at me for a moment. I was really excited to have her even look at me. Her long hair, wrapped in a ponytail revealed her beautiful face and cheek bones. Sometimes I imagined my mom as a Queen. I was quiet the whole time she was staring at me. I wanted to talk but knew I should wait for her to speak to me first. She dropped the basket she was holding and quickly snatched the action figures from my hand, halting my thoughts. She gathered all the toys I had on the floor, placing them into the basket. I sat as still as I could, not moving a muscle as to not further upset her. When all the toys were clear off the floor, she pushed the basket filled to capacity with all the toys I had been playing with away from us and turned her attention to me. Why are you touching Ed’s toys? Didn’t I tell you to stay in your room? I sat confused. I had been in my room for almost three weeks now and made sure to listen to everything she asked of me. You always open your stupid mouth to tell me of the things you learned in school like I give a shit. And now you can’t answer a simple question? she continued. You want something to play with? she asked. Play with your balls she said as she gestured to her genitalia region. I sat as still as I could not making a single sound. She stared at me for a second longer until she let out a frustrated breath and turned away from me, slamming the door shut behind her. I thought of how stupid it was of me to even think it was ok to play with Ed’s toys. I knew I was not allowed to even touch them and now I have to wait even longer to catch mom in a good mood, just so I can have my long awaited hug. I stood up, frustrated with my stupid decision and walked over to my bed to sit. I folded my hands together, interlocking my fingers as my throat began to feel a pain I never felt before. My chest hurt and my eyes began to water. Then I began to sob, releasing all the pressure I felt in my chest. I sobbed quietly, making sure I didn’t further upset mom with sounds. I felt better after this process ran its course and I unfolded my fingers and began to make shapes with them. Soon after, my childlike nature took over and I began to imagine my fingers were the toys mom took from me. I played until it got dark and I couldn’t see my fingers anymore. By then, I was tired and feel asleep very easily.

    PRECIOUS ED

    Mom got a call from the Scouts about Ed getting injured while on a hike. She seemed desperate to dress and screamed at me to hurry up, then darted out the door. When we arrived at the camp, Mom had to park at a parking lot at the bottom of a tall hill, and we had to walk up a long wooded trail leading to the camp. The camp was deep in the woods with trails leading in many different directions. We took the trail that had a sign that read Camp and proceeded with the warm sun on our shoulders. The woods were infested with mosquitos. I felt excited to be walking with Mom on that trail. As we got closer, I could hear boys shouting out as they played capture the flag. It looked like a lot of fun as each side was being very strategic defending different-colored flags. We saw a young man dressed in the same uniform as Ed, with a few colored buttons on his shirt, standing in the middle of all the action, and Mom picked up the pace, walking directly to him. I tried to catch up to close the huge gap between us, and she kept telling me to hurry up. She seemed desperate to see Ed, and as soon as she got closer to the man, she began to swear at him and demanded to see Ed. I was still catching up to Mom as I heard him telling Mom that Ed was in the middle of a hunting game. He added that the injury Ed received was just a small cut on his chin, which was cleaned and bandaged. Mom began screaming swears at him and demanded to see Ed. Please don’t use that kind of language in front of the other kids, ma’am, the young man requested of Mom.

    F—you and f—them. I pay you money so he has fun, not for him to get cut, you son of a b—. Bring me my son right now, Mom sharply demanded. I felt embarrassed to hear Mom speak like that and I couldn’t maintain eye contact with him. The young man gave Mom a disgusted look and started walking in the direction opposite us. An outburst of cheers erupted somewhere in the woods, and I looked around to see where it came from. The thick trees and bushes blocked most of my view until a group of kids emerged from behind us, hoisting a kid with a red flag in hand. They all seemed happy and had huge smiles on their faces. Minutes later, Ed and a different man were seen walking toward us from the woods. The man’s shirt was covered with different-colored buttons. Mom kneeled down and held Ed’s head as she removed the bandage he had on his chin, revealing a small cut. She replaced the bandage as she asked him how it happened, and he answered that he fell on a rock. I don’t believe you, she angrily said to Ed. Who did this to you? she asked as she stood to her feet. Before Ed could further explain, the older man interrupted and explained to Mom that he lost his footing and fell chin first on a rock. She told the man that she was taking Ed home, and would never return to camp. As we walked down the wooden trail, Mom was swearing as she expressed regret over ever signing Ed up for camp. I knew I would never be joining the scouts after her speech. When we arrived home, she bathed Ed, put him in bed, and kept investigating him. She was always very sweet with Ed at night when she hugged and

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