Running for My Life: Courage

By Nicki

Grandma always said experience as the world's best teacher it can make you or it can break you. Looking back on my life experience. It made me the person I am today. I have my self-esteem back. No longer will I ever be a victim of any kind of abuse. I know now that I'm someone special. I no longer feel guilty about the things I have no control over.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 24, 2020
• ISBN: 9781796083729

Nicki

She is a mother of five a widow and a retired teacher. she is an inspiration to her family co-workers and Friends because she is a survivor of sexual abuse, domestic violence, mental abuse, verbal abuse and physical abuse. She has overcome many obstacles such as trust issues, feeling helpless, no self-esteem, fear of abuser retaliation and fearing for her life. She has written this book to encourage other victims not to give up by inspiring them. She hopes by telling her story to help them take advantage of all the resources available to them.

Book preview

Chapter 1

I don’t know where to begin telling my story. Here I am sitting beside my grandmother, grave crying fiercely, it felt like the time as I was beat with an extension cord. This was one of the saddest days of my life. I couldn’t run fast enough to my grandmother’s grave, everything seems to be moving in slow motion. This was the year my grandmother whom Jesus took away from me in November 1980. It’s a year I can never forget. She passed away from breast cancer. This was the first time I’ve been here since she was buried twenty nine years. My mind couldn’t seem to wrap around the thought of her being gone. I couldn’t believe that after all these years that she was never coming back home. It’s over 30 years now and I still can’t seem to cope with it, most days I keep my feelings buried deep inside me. I won’t talk about her to anyone. Everything that we shared, talked about, and did together now seems like a distant memory. I will never get that time back, she was my best friend. I often would ask myself why did Jesus take her away from me? She was only 56 years old. Sitting beside her grave in my purple lounge chair wondering what went wrong with my life.

I remember the trips to Little Rock South Carolina with mommy and grandma every summer. I look forward to the summer because I stayed. It was so much fun being on the farm, the air smells so fresh with the scent of freshly cooked bacon cooking from the wood stove. I felt so safe. Great grand mom would have a table set up in the morning. Uncle Joe, uncle Moe, Mossey, Cousin Matt, Cousin William would go in the fields early so the only time they really got to sit and have breakfast will on the weekends. We didn’t have all the necessities like some families. My family made do and they seem very happy. They had acres and acres of farmland with pigs, chickens, cows, hens, Dogs, apple trees, a big garden with all kinds of vegetables and herbs and a well with a bucket in the middle that you can let down to get water. There was a rope hanging from the tree with a tire that we used to swing on. They had a wood stove that you have to put wood in it for cooking and heating. There was no bathroom. We used the out house and at night we used a tin tub on the back porch. Then when mommy and grandmother left my great- grandmother gave me a bath. To this very day I never knew why my two brothers never came with us to spend the summer in Little Rock, South Carolina. Great grandma washed the clothes with a scrub broad, homemade soap, when she finished she would put it through a ringer. Then she would hang the clothes out to dry. When we were going to have chicken to eat some of my uncles along with the rest of the grown ups in the house would ring the chicken neck, and clean them. Early in the morning some of my aunts, great grandma, and grandmother would go in the garden which was super big would pick the things in it. I remember when I was outside I touched a little wire fence and I felt a shock I ran to the house crying saying I’m going to die! I got a shock from the fences. Everyone was laughing at me. They told me that I was going to be alright and the shock is to keep the chicken and hen inside the fence. The pigs looked so nasty. One of my uncles lived down the road. All of the houses were not next to each other, like in the city. Those were great times. Every Sunday morning after breakfast if it’s nice outside we will walk the dirt road to a little white Baptist Church. People would sing, raise their hands and always pray. The choir sounded so good. We were not allowed to chew any gum at church. The mothers at the church said you can’t hear God because of your chewing. Back in my days when a grown-up told you to stop doing something you better stop because they were allowed to hit you. When you talk to a grown up you had to say yes ma’am or no man yes sir or no sir or you would have got popped in your mouth. We would have children Sunday School while the adults were in the adult Sunday School. Children’s Sunday school was fun. Sister Hattie Mae was our Sunday School teacher. She was about five three, about one hundred and sixty pounds, brown skin, short black hair with curls And she was 55 years old. The reason why I remember that was because one Saturday afternoon my great-grandmother gave sister Hattie Mae a birthday party. That was a super fun day. There was prayer from the pastor before the party began. There was so much food And Bible games. Then we were jump rope, and played hide and seek. We also picked apples off the apple tree. All the grown-ups that came dad had about two or three dishes of food. It had to be over forty adults and about 30 children. It looked like that was everyone and that small tiny town that came to the birthday party. The birthday party started early Saturday afternoon and ended sometimes in the early evening. I was always disappointed When summer was over because that meant I had to go home.

I think this must have been a tradition. The church Grandma went to was a Baptist Church. When I come back home Grandma always took my brothers and I to church. That was one thing I could always count on. There was always a sense of peace, love, and security when I was with her. Her tone of voice was always soft and comforting. I never heard her raise her voice often. I would wonder if she even knew how. When I was younger I would always go to my grandmother’s house, on Saturdays we would walk to the ice cream shop down the street to get my favorite ice cream butter pecan. Then my two brothers and I would watch Hogan Hero after our bath. Grandma did not have a shower in her apartment. Grandma would be getting her lesson ready for church because she was a Sunday School Teacher. Every Sunday I was always at church with her more than my brothers because they said church scares them. I enjoyed going on trips with the church. My cousin and I went to Texas, Kansas City, Florida, New York City, for a church conference. Then there was the church banquet, Church anniversary, Church cookouts, Church dinners, Church holiday Festivities, and Church talent shows. I really enjoyed going to church. It was always so much fun. The choir song is nice. I share many moments together with you grandma the good and bad. Going to church with my grandmother was the only thing that I ever thought about. Being a part of the church kept me sane and happy, a peaceful sensation came over me every service. Once a month we would go out to eat on Sunday. Grandma always cooked Sunday dinners. It would be so good. It reminds me of summertime in Little Rock, South Carolina. That’s real Southerner cooking.

There was one bad memory I remember was when I was over her house spending the week because it was school vacation. She came home early from work to look for something. That day she happened to look under the bed and there he was Lawrence. I have been spending all week with him while my grandmother was at work. I was 12 1/2 years old at the time. I would never forget the look on her face when she saw him, it was a look of great disappointment. It hurts so bad to see the hurt in her eyes as if she wanted to cry. Grandma took me home. She didn;t say anything to me on the way home. I don’t remember if I apologized to her. I was just hoping she wouldn’t tell on me, which she didn’t. I was so happy but hurt at the same time. I wished that I could start all over and not hurt her like that.

I had a wonderful childhood living in Little Rock, South Carolina. It was so peaceful and smelled of sweet fresh country air, burning wood and fresh home cooked meals filled the air. This was the kind of life I enjoyed. I never complained about the farm where I was raised, but when I moved to Connecticut life as I once knew it changed forever. Now here I’m running for my life. Everything that could go wrong in my life did go wrong.

Chapter 2

I was born on a warm spring day May 2, 1959. A two pound baby girl was born to the proud parents of Richard from Alabama and Mary Lou Battles from Little Rock South Carolina. I was my mother’s first born. Unfortunately when it came to my dad my mother wasn’t the only woman in his life. Richard was five feet ten, slender built with a bald head, clear brown skin. He was so soft spoken and very handsome. Five years before I was born, he had another daughter named Betty Lou from another woman then; six months after I was born, he had his first son named Bobby while he was still married to my mother. After my mother and dad divorce he married again to the mother of his son.

I remember when I was six he took me to Treasure City which reminds me a lot like T market. I received my first black baby doll. That day was so significant to me because this happened to be the first time I actually met my father. It was my father’s first time seeing where me and my mother lived. His whole expression on his face was unforgettable. He turned his nose up to our apartment. He looked where he was standing as if roaches would crawl on him. I remembered my mother offering him some coffee. There was an unexplainable expression on his face and said he just had some before he got there. I didn’t understand because our Apartment was clean. I knew he was lying. He then looked at his watch and said he had to leave before it got too dark. I looked up at him with a worried glare and asked are you afraid of the dark daddy? Then he said he doesn’t see well in the dark! And he responded coldly. He stayed for about ten minutes and gave me a hug. Growing up I always thought Michael, my mother’s boyfriend was my father. My father never stepped foot back in our apartment ever again. I don’t remember seeing him much until I was about ten. That day Michael took my bothers out shopping and I remember I wanted to go but my dad was coming over to see me at our apartment which was in the project. He met me in the parking lot we took pictures and he brought me lots of presents for Christmas. I wanted to tell my dad a secret but I was afraid.

Then the following summer year I went to his house and that was when I met his wife Sue and his six children Bobby, Kara, Janet, Louise, Megan, and Nicole. Bobby, Kara who was a year younger than me. Sue was a little overweight, short black hair, five six and copper tone skin. I sense she didn’t like me. My stepmother Sue was always talking about God at what we should do and what we should not be doing. I felt like she was always picking on me. I remember she was sitting me down in the living room and began talking to me about God. I felt like she was judging me just by the things she was saying to me and the way she was looking at me. A couple of times there were some of my siblings sitting down with me as we were having Bible study. The majority of the time it was her and I sometimes my dad was set and they would talk to me. To make sure I understood what my stepmother was saying to me about God. I was saying to myself she has some nerve she had like her children were better than me. They lived in the project Just like me. I was surprised to see that they lived. Bobby, Kara and I would go across the street to the park and have free lunch. They introduce me to their friends. We played rope and got on the swings. There was one boy that I liked. He was so cute, bow leg, very short afro five six and brown skin. They called him bow because of his legs being so bowed. Swimming at the pool was a lot of fun. We did the chicken fight and the life guide didn’t say anything to us. Every year I went to spend the summer with him and his family until I was twelve years old. That was the year Bow and I went into the brushes without anyone knowing then we had sex and we came back thirty minutes later to the pool and my dad, brother and Kara was looking for me because I didn’t tell anyone where I was going. When I got to the house dad asked me where I went? I told him that I went for a walk with other kids’ sir! The way he was acting you would think I killed someone. My stepmother Sue started saying things to me about how I should go home now, never to come back until I grow up. Then she said that my father was worried about me and their children wouldn’t never go anywhere without telling them. And that I was a fresh little girl. I got a lecture that felt like an Eternity. Then another speech about how good her children were Because they listened, she then told my dad to take me home, but he refused and then they argued. I much have did something so, wrong because the only thing I remember was me telling my dad wife that she wasn’t my mother and I didn’t like her. I was rude and nasty to her. I did not care if she liked me or not. Next thing I know I was back home that next morning. I never went back over to my dad’s house again. I didn’t care about what happened because my dad’s wife didn’t like me anyway. She seemed to think that her children and her were better than me. They talked so properly and I spoked ghetto fabulous. They lived in the project just like me but they talked properly, and wore nice clothes. I didn’t care if I saw them again. That night when I went to bed I felt so horrible for being so rude to my father’s wife. My siblings were nice to me but they were a little quiet as if they didn’t know what to say to me. I must admit they were raising their children to be very good and not rude but obedient. I was thinking I wish I had the life that they were living at least my dad not having sex with them and beating up their mother. They seem to have a really good life with no violence everything seemed to be calm. They were very smart and talked properly. That was something I never did. There were some good times that I have with the family I remember on the 4th of July when we went to go see the fireworks my dad took us out to eat but his wife was never with us. Everything that my dad did with me or with us children she was never around. That was another reason I think she didn’t like me. She never raised her voice at me. When we took pictures she was never in any of them with me. I knew she loved her children and I wasn’t her daughter by blood but she always made me feel like an outcast most of the time. At the same time I knew it was on me because I never welcomed her really in my life. I used to want my mother and father to get back together. I met my father’s wife’s sister who was so kind to me and friendly. She always seems to be happy. She always had jokes she didn’t treat me differently. Her name was Aunt Georgia. What can I say she was a character by herself. She was six one about one hundred ninety pounds, Shoulder length black hair, Brown skin, and a smoker. When she saw me she always said give your auntie Georgia a hug. One of the things that I love about auntie Georgia was every time she came over when I was there she always asked my siblings and myself if we would walk to the store. I always love going to the store for her because she always gives my siblings and me money to spend for us. There was another thing that was special about her, she sounded like a man because her voice was raspy. I just loved her because she is so much fun. She always makes jokes and always says the funniest the coolest things that make everybody laugh. What I liked and thought was funny was because Aunt Georgia’s voice sounded like a man but she was not a man. I love her Laughter even though my dad’s wife seemed to smile and laugh when Aunt Georgia was around. That was just a View of some of happy memories. My dad, his wife and my siblings were Never with my family during any holidays. Dad would invite me to share the holidays with him. Mommie would invite dad’s family over but, they never came. My mom, Michael, my two brothers, myself invited other family members and friends over for the holidays. Those were some fun times. There was not a holiday that went by that family and friends didn’t partpaticipe. They were there to share many holiday Festivities such as Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, and Good Friday. I don’t remember when my mother met my father’s wife but I remember my mother came over to the house to bring me over some pajamas since I was there for the summer. I remember when my Dad dropped me off at home he stayed in the car of course. My dad never said goodbye, he always said Tolu.

When I got in the house the first thing I had to do was say hi to my mom, Michael and my brothers upstairs in the bedroom. Michael looked weird the way he was just staring at me. I just figured maybe he was drunk or something. Michael said he misses me and he was glad I’m home. After I put my clothes away in my bedroom I went downstairs to get a fruit and drink some Kool-Aid. Mommy and Michael always had so much food in the house maybe because Michael was a chef and always cooked different foods. I remember when passing the kitchen table I saw a Bible lying on the table. I never knew we had a Bible in the house. I never even saw anyone read the Bible in the house. On Sunday’s Michael would listen to Gospels but that was that. I sat at the kitchen table and there I opened it up and began reading Genesis, the first book in the Bible. It was very interesting. I couldn’t put it down. It took me two days to finish the book of Genesis. Then I read the first book of the new testament Matthew. I went into my bedroom where it was very quiet and no one was bothering me. Mommy and Michael were busy entertaining some of their friends and going out almost every night and my brothers were outside and at night they would watch television. We had a babysitter named Ethel who lived four doors down. She was about seventeen years old, with a small afro, slim and who always talked about black power. She was weird. I really enjoyed reading about when Jesus was born. All this time going to church I heard what the preacher was speaking about but to really read it wow! it blew my mind. I just had to read the whole book. I wanted to be the one to follow Jesus, but how and when I die I wanted to go to Heaven. Then I was asking myself who made God? I asked myself if there is a God why are there people who are hungry? Why were our children sick and dying? Why is there cancer? I would see this on TV once a year on Christmas time. There were so many questions that I wanted answered. It touched my heart so bad even as me being a child just to fill our children pain, mentally, physically as well as sickness. At least that’s what I was feeling. I heard about Mommy and Michael’s friend dying of cancer. Why are these things happening? I thought Jesus is loving. Who is God? Some of the stories I read in the Bible told me Jesus and why came to earth. I asked myself why I don’t see that with so much suffering in the world and I am so young and I see these things I see people homeless Begging for food and money so they can eat. I lived in a project. When coming up I saw people who wore stinky dirty clothes. Why is God allowing this to happen is the bible really true? God is supposed to be his father so who do we pray? I was so confused.

Chapter 3

Then there was my mother boyfriend Michael, who was six feet, brown skin, nicely built with muscles and very good looking. He was in prison for six years for almost killing a guy. Michael was very nice to my two brothers Jean and John also, to me. Jean is two years younger than me and John is four years younger than me. Matter of fact he raised my brothers and me. I thought Michael was our father because he was always there. He was a chef and was always cooking some good food and I mean some good oh down south southern food, The best seafood you can imagine Italian food the spaghetti was an awesome cook I would say the best I ever. Michael was from Orlando, Florida but his mother was from South Carolina. He didn’t know much about his father because he died when he was nine years old from lung cancer. His mother’s name was Betty Lou and so was so very kind. She passed away when I was nine years old. I always called her grandma. Michael also has six brothers and two sisters which I loved very much. They were my family. At first I was happy believing Michael was my dad. Now I am thinking about my brothers’ dad. Michael was always there for us even when my mother wasn’t. I looked up to him. He pierced my ears when I was six years old for Easter and this was the first time mom straightened my hair. I felt so special that day. I remember and Michael used to always had me touch my body and lick me down below and this was before I even had a period. Michael would tell me I better not tell no one because they would not understand. Michael also told me he was going to show me the things that moms are supposed to do and he would teach me how to do everything. Mommy was five five slim, her black hair came to her shoulder, and her size was about 12. Mommy had a nice figure.

One night when my mother was out Michael came in the room late and sat next to me saying how he loves me and that mommy broke