Spittoon--Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Outside Looking In 

Former victims of  IEPS had escaped, just like these sisters--Twin sisters, of course. They were Evita & Lynda Gibson, people were afraid of them. Perhaps their appearance may seem innocent, however they possessed something more diabolical, according to rumors. Evita and Lynda were identical twins but not exactly. Evita dyed her hair darker than her original color, auburn. Lynda never changed her hair color. These two were like Tamsin and Idina but different. These two were mostly fearsome. Strange. They were more violent, more aggressive and sadistic. In the meantime; a young man, about 18 years of age, name Siegfried Fürst. He was asleep but then he woke up to a knock and a voice from behind the door, “Siegfried, Siegfried? You awake, Siegfried?” “Huh? Who’s there?” Siegfried asked, groggily. He is getting up as he stretched his arms. “It’s Wolfgang, sorry to disturb you.” said the voice outside his room. “No, no. It’s fine. I’m OK.” said Siegfried, sleepily. He got up from his bed, grazing his hair as he heard Wolfgang said outside, “I’m glad you’re awake because today is Benno’s 18th Celebration.” Siefried’s eyes opened more full to this, wondering. “Benno’s...Celebration...” His eyes widened, “That’s right.” whispered Siegfried, remembering now. 

Siegfried haven’t seen Benno in a while. His best friend Benno Rossel is a free-spirited, fearless, heartfelt, kind, frisky, optimistic, awkward, gauche, verbose, idiosyncratic, feisty, adventurous, loving, intelligent, selfless, and imprudent. Siegfried, on the other hand, is caring, reserved, warm, protective, kind-hearted, intelligent, and playful. However, Siegfried remembered something that had happened between them that changed both of their lives: When they were kids. That’s when it happened. Young Siegfried was asleep when he felt someone poking at him in the arm. “Sieg? Sieg? Are you sleeping, Brother Sieg?” A voice whispered. Siegfried moaned a little. “Benny, what are you doing up this early?” He grumbled. Young Benno pouted at him, “I can’t sleep. I was thinking about your powers, show me them again! Pleaaassee!” He begged. Siegfried buried under the covers deeper. “I told you, in the morning.” He said. Benno pouted, then he had an idea. He pulled the covers off and said smugly, “I dare you.” Siegfried opened his eyes, a smirk crept upon his face.

The next minute, they were running down the steps and into the outside. While they sneaked outside, Benno was so excited that he urged his friend to follow, “Let’s go, let’s go!” “Quiet, shush!” Siegfried murmured. The two boys chuckled happily once outside they were as Benno claps his hands with excitement, “Show me! Show me!”  He chanted. Siegfried flexed his hand out as he constructs creations into his hands. It was glitter dust, he knew his friend liked pretty things, for a boy he was not like the rest of the boys. He liked sparkling jewels to look at but they make him glare away from the bright light. Siegfried creates constructs of other things like dolls, such as a character he made. The two of them were having so much fun but Benno was too excited that he want to have more entertainment. Siegfried noticed how excited his friend was getting and couldn't keep up, not realizing his powers had hit his friend in the side of his chest. “Aah!” Benno yelped, falling down. Siegfried is shocked as he hurried over to his friend. He had his friend in his lap, “Oh no, no.” wept Siegfried. He and Benno were like brothers, he hoped that he didn’t kill him. Just then, a woman’s voice called out to help them but she looked scolding: “Sieg, look at what you done.” It was their guardian and mentor name Cyrene. “I didn’t mean to.” Valentine started to say. 

Cyrene looked at him and took unconscious Benno into her arms, “It’s OK, we’ll fix this.” She took him away to the lab. Valentine was in his room. Crying, wailing into his pillow; Siegfried vowed to be careful with his powers. Never again he would hurt anyone again. The two of them never talked, Siegfried withdrew himself from his best friend; fearing that he must be angry for triggering him blind. OK, not completely blind but partial. Still, Valentine did this to his friend and he could never forgive himself for what he did. “Hi Sieg.” A soft spoken voice said. Siegfried turned to see who it was. Benno looked different!  Siegfried squinted at him, “Benno? Is that you? You look nice.” admitted Siegfried. Benno grinned, “Thanks, look at you. You’ve changed.” He complimented. “Yeah, I look kind of stuffy in this outfit.” remarked Siegfried. “No, it looks good on you.” Benno praised. Valentine walk pass a mirror and looked stunt to see himself. Benno was right, it did looked good. He couldn’t help but smiled. “Yes, I guess it is. You look calm.” He said. “I am.” Benno confessed. He looked away to look around the party, Siegfried did too as he cleared his throat to say something. “You can see through those glasses?” He asked. “Yes. Val, it’s OK. I’m not completely blind. And it wasn’t your fault.” reminded Benno. Siegfried shuddered, then he composed himself. “It was, I hit your eyes.” said Valentine softly. Benno placed his hand on his shoulder in a comfort manner. “No, it really was I was the wild one.” He whispered. Siegfried looked over at him in shock. This was not the feisty, free spirited kid Siegfried used to know. Now, Benno is more reserved and cool-headed young boy. Siegfried smiled, feeling better.

“You there! You are on reserved terrain! Release your artilleries and yield or we will use deadly dynamism.” said a soldier over the speakers. Evita unleashed her powers and she took down the guards. Attacking them with her agility as she went. Then she straightened up and sneered, “Sorry, not happening!” called Lynda. The Gibson sisters and the other three ran off from the guards. Angry at this incompetence; Commander Longstride turned on the microphone for the speakers, “What the hell is happening down there? Guards, get off your posteriors and investigate! I’ll be in my chambers, don’t let those freaks show up here!” He commanded. Evita scoffed at this, “Freaks? Wow. Really, dragons have teeth and snakes have fangs.” She retorted. Evita, Valentine, Proteus, and Lynda were running from the guards when one of the guards made an announcement, “Warning! We are padlocking up on all zones immediately. Soldiers must—gah!” He is knocked out, he stumbles forward. Giovanni glares down at him and speak over the public address system, “Enough, you fool! Give heed, you bastards. No one damages my territory like this. I foresee it was valued.” He declared. They saw more guards coming however they keep fighting. The Gibson sisters was swifter than the other guards. “Would you kindly step down there and maimed those maniacs?” requested Giovanni over the megaphones again. Lynda was irritated by this, “I, am NOT, a MANIAC, SIR!” She exclaimed. Dissatisfied, Giovanni turned to his men, who were ready to do what their master wants them to do. “Release the cannons, sojourn these mutants.” announced Giovanni. 

But someone’s feet stormed down towards the Gibson sisters, “All right, you assholes!” A gruff, tough guy barged in, he is the commander. “Which one of you thunderheads trashed my  boys?!” He growled. “I don’t have time for games, nobody messes with me and gets away with it scot free! Personally, you think your hot shit don’t cha? Well, you know what I think! If you were a danger towards me, kill me in front of all these people right now!” challenged the guy. Evita raised an eyebrow at him. “You mean it? OK, as you wish.” said Evita, pointing a gun at him. The guy recoiled in fear. Siegfried, Benno, Odette, Wolfgang, and Odile looked on. Gasping in horror at this. “Ma'm, please. I didn't mean it....” The tough guy said, weakly. He winced away in horror as Evita pulled the trigger. Surprisingly, the only came out was a balloon that says “BOOM!” The tough guy looked confused, Evita smirked. “So was I.” She said. Lynda giggled. The gang were relieved of this. Even the guy was relieved too, “Whew!” He sighed. Evita had a syringe hidden in her hand, she attacked the tough guy with the injection. Then, she threw them over her crew. “Aah!” The others cried, they saw the guy’s body landed on the ground. “Oh, was that a joke? Oh no I wouldn't joke.” sneered Evita. 

The others were horrified. “Relax! He’s knocked out, when he wakes up he’ll find himself in his bed.” She assured. The needle was actually a sedative, Evita throws on the ground as she crushes it with her foot it was in pieces. “Y’know guys? Things have changed around here since. We’ve reached a new era, really. Fresh life, different people…even new-fangled enemies.” said Evita. Her eyes looked angry the others trembled with fear. But then Evita brightens up, “But…Here I am!” She announced. “We, are the Gibson Sisters,  and we're ready to turn Giovanni’s globe inside out. However, I need you guys to tell me—you in or out?” Siegfried, Benno, Odette, Wolfgang, and Odile looked at each other before looking at the sisters. “We’re in!” The others exclaimed. “We can’t hear you.” Lynda said in a singsong voice. “We’re in!” Everyone cried all in one. “Ladies?” Lynda asked. “We’re in!” said the girls. To the boys, Lynda asked: “Men?” “We’re in!” They said. Lynda nodded with satisfactory. “Cool beans.” She said. “Boys? Dispose of the brute here.” Evita glanced back at the others with a smile, “You guys’ support place a warmth in my heart. I think we’re going to be good friends with one another.” She said.

One year ago.....

"Are we there yet, Mom?"

"Almost, Karina, almost."

"How much is 'almost'?"

"Karina!"

"Just kidding."

The Novak family were driving in an RV, leaving behind the life they once had which was full of hardships and heartache. Now, it was time for them to start over from their darkest lives. The young girl is Karina Novak; she is a teen looking girl who is really 21. But there’s no way that she’s that young! Could it be? But that’s what people had said to her! However, Karina finds it funny that some people react with their expressions when they found out how old she is. Karina is an anime otaku (Otaku is Japanese for 'geek') who is putting her troubled past behind and starting to move on with her life. She went through emotional problems but sought help through therapy.

Modern day.....

Leander was still reading Karina's diary, she had been recording some things in her diary: 

They call me 'freak girl' because I'm different, I can't blame them. The others, they think I'm weird. All I ever wanted is to be accepted as I am. I know I am different and I have some flaws but I'm working on tweaking on them. I'm a Cloud Cuckoolander, Mad Dreamer, The Ophelia, and Naive Girl. But I can be deadly, no not really but you should consider me into the 'Beware the Nice Ones' group. And 'Beware the Silly Ones' as well as 'Beware the Quiet Ones'. I may be a nice girl but do not push all my buttons because I can go crazy on you. Like Roaring Rampage of Revenge. No, even more deadlier: Woobie, Destroyer of Worlds! Hahaha...Ahem! Sorry, my sanity went down for one second my friends. My name is Alyssum Wanderen, I am 21 years old but I look like I'm a teenager. I was diagnosed with high fuctioned and dealing with a lot of panic attacks. I see things differently than others, I can take pictures with my mind so that only their faces are etched into my brain. These portraits can play over and over again, it overloads but it doesn't hurt physically. I kind of like the feeling, it's exciting really! I went through a lot lately: Hypersensitivity to some noises, child abuse, bullying, socially isolated from some people for I feared of betrayal and for those that do not understand me. I am a big fan of anime (Or as you people like to call them 'Japanese cartoons'). From childhood to my early 20's and never stop since. I wrote this to tell the truth, especially to the relatives who didn't know about this and for them to know the truth. I also wrote this so you know my story. Hear my tale; I don't want sympathy or forgiveness but for you to understand me.  

Leander is interested as he continues to read more:

The first thing I remembered when I came into the world was a bright light like the sun, the ceiling was a gray blue. The rest was a blur but when I was 3; I somehow changed. Became different was when the sounds of laughter and other unexpected noises. It didn’t hurt me physically but it was emotionally traumatizing. My first ‘trauma’ went like this: I was at the amusement par, with my brother and my parents. My little brother Jimmy wasn’t even born yet, not until seven years later. Anyways, I remembered seeing a small fountain which mirrored a rainbow prism from the water. It was such a fascinating sight, I wanted to stay there, in the park. But I was dragged to the show. Boy, What a nightmare that was!  In the beginning, there was a man with a cap hat and he wore blue shorts. He wore a blue and white striped shirt with a red vest. He wore black sandal, he also had a white mustache. I could also see his bare legs too. The man sang some song, then asked the entire audience if we were ready for Barney. At that time, he asked all and sundry if he could turn on the buttons. The audience cheered ‘yes’ and that’s what he did. The next thing I remembered was him playing those funny sounds, I heard ‘boing’ and other weird resonances caused a loud laughter from the audience.

I could hear my father guffawed his nerdy laugh while I cringed into my purple jacket. I recalled afterwards we entered a dark entrance of the show. I hid behind a bench as I witnessed the show come to life on the stage. During the show, I was given an autumn leaf and held it in my hands. The show then closed up with its infamous, sappy song.  Later, I found myself in a stroller and I heard Dad asking: “You wanna go swimming?” and I heard my older brother said, “Yeah!” And so we did. As I grew up, I was uptight and stubborn. I hate being part of crowds, I hate watching movies with others. In elementary school, every time a movie is played; I’d go hiding in the bathroom. There was another youthful mishap I remember we had a Halloween party, and it was noisy. It was so bad that I was so upset. My teachers, some of them didn’t get me. It’s embarrassing for me to admit this but hey! I wasn’t much of a goody-good. Besides school, home was awful. My parents fought a lot. I just didn’t understand, I thought both of parents loved with one another. Though, as a kid, I never comprehend the entire story perspective. Me? I would pick sides any time one of my parents was ‘mean’ and I’d go to that ‘nice’ one. Yup, some daughter I was. My father….As a kid; I thought Dad had a tempter. Yeah. Temper. Sure! He would beat me up. No, he also beats my mother too. But me? If I’d misbehaved or have a horrible meltdown; I would get sent home early. My father was angry as he slapped me. He jeers horrible things at me. He told me to go up in my room. 

I begged him, but he spanked me hard on the bottom. I obeyed, crying on my way up the stairs. Throw myself on the bed and begin to kick, scream, and cry so loud until one of my parents told me to cut it out. Anytime I hit a teacher or staff member, throw stuff around, or hurt another student; I’d get my CDS and Barbie dolls taken. My privileges. I wasn’t allowed to have them back until I was a ‘good girl’. In which I complied. Finally, I got my stuff back. My dad wouldn’t just yell or hit at me for the things I did wrong, he’d yell at me for the simple mistakes. Accidents were a big issue for him whenever I did them. Either I spilled a drink or accidentally left the refrigerator door opened, it would be a big deal for him. Most parents would see accidents as not a big deal, they’d be like: ‘Oh, it’s OK.’ and ‘Don’t worry, I’ll help you clean it up.’ Oh no, my father would scream at me, I cowered in fear; apologizing. He’d get frustrated, “GET AWAY FROM ME!” Dad hollered. I backed away with distress as Dad threatened to hurt me if I didn’t get away from him. Sometimes I tell him that it was an accident. He’d come face to face so close that I could see the anger on his face. With gritted teeth; he’d said that if I didn’t get away and motions with a clap of his hands while saying, “BANG!” Have you ever been child abuse? Verbally? Mentally? Emotionally? Spiritually? Physically? I would like to tell you my story about child abuse if it makes it easier: When I was little (I was born being slightly diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome and mild anxiety disorder) and got into trouble for my explosive behavior; My father would get so mad at me for it that he would hit me either my face or my rear end, telling me harshly 'You're not sorry, you'll do it again!'. Or sometimes over the smallest things such as juice spills, he would be like 'You spilled the juice, what is wrong with you? You should know better!' or 'How could you do something like that? You are so worthless!'. He was very scary and he sometimes hits me whenever I talked back to him in one of argument, mentioning however I was lucky to not have been raised by my father's dad because he used to hit him back then.  I always weep as I went and told my mother everything. Every time my parents fought and wouldn’t speak to one another. It was unbearable! 

Not just me: My older brother was verbally abusive as well as my younger brother. It was the hardest thing to suffer for all of us--including my mother, she had been physically harmed by him once after throwing car keys that slashed her cheek. My father never blamed himself for his actions, he blamed others for his own doing: Blamed my mother for pulling the strings of this 'little game' but Dad did not get the picture: He was wearing his 'blindfold' and in denial. I always forgive him for lashing out at me. The abuse I suffered from him was excruciating: I had a meltdown and was feeling like crap so I cut myself. Dad saw this as he says in a fierce voice that if I was trying to slit my wrists, he said I would go to Hell. I actually cried uncontrollably: First of all; I wasn't trying to kill myself and second, he doesn't know my suffering--That bastard made things a hell lot worse for me and I hate it so much. Right now, Dad is begging to see us and if we do not respond, then he does that pitiful: "Oh you don't want to see me." crap.....Ha! Right, right, like that's suppose to work--As least that's what he thinks. I couldn't face him, I had a lot to do to boost my confidence. 

So, you wanna know what I did? I wrote forged notes to make it look like either one wanted forgiveness. But my parents were both furious with me. I was only trying to help but oh well! It was long ago, so yesterday! No worries. If you thought my bad behavior was bad, let me tell you about the Sunday school fiasco. I hate going to church. Don’t get the wrong idea! It wasn’t the preaching of God. It was the microphone of the priests and the laughter of people any time the priest’s witty anecdotes. I didn’t want to go to church because of its loudness. But both of my parents wanted me to cope with the sounds. After church was Sunday school; my parents were teachers there. I was once friends with a girl who was sturdy. She had golden blonde hair that made her look like an angel and her face was rosy but her smile was bright. White, cleaned. My teachers, I fully remembered their appearances and the memories that I shamed of what I did to them. One was a blonde hair, the style was cut short. She wore glasses, and had a rosy purple-pink lipstick with a buck tooth. Her daughter was the same. Instead, she had blonde hair short in a bouncy curled bob and looked so nice. Both of them were fair skin. I’m not proud of the awful things that I did to them. I was a bad girl in a Sunday School of God. All the tantrums. All the evil things I’d done. I got in trouble for that too, one good hit from my father later and getting scolded at by him. I managed to reunite with those people at my little brother’s first communion. Ever since my meltdowns, I no longer had a lot of friends like I used to. I was kicked out of elementary school and was home-schooled by my mom. I hated it. Finally, I was overjoy to hear that I was going to middle school. This was a perfect way for me to start over and make new friends. If you thought my childhood was bad, you should take a look at my teen years. How my saccharine-self became a skeptical, experienced persona that had dark points. 

Leander was shocked of this, he put it down after bookmarking it. He went to the kitchen to get himself soda and then went back to continue reading, he read about Karina's troubled adolescent years: 

My teen years was no coming of age ordeal. I was always childish, daydreaming, not being like everybody else. I wasn’t popular, nor was I an outcast too much either. I hanged out with the wrong crowd and my so-called friends ditched me. And it went on for at least when I was 13, to 14, and finally to 15 years of age. The story is so alarming, so unspeakable, that I can’t believe I’m writing this. But here it goes……

After agonizing in home school (It wasn’t too long, but yeah I hated it!), I finally went to middle school. However, no matter what occurred to me, my meltdowns were the same. They worsened. The more I got in trouble, the more I got abused by my father. My father held grudges the longest against me! I hate that, which was my biggest fears. I always fear that if I anger someone, this person would get angry and never talk to me again. In the aftermath out of this; my teachers weren’t so empathetic, they told me though to take medication. I made friends but it didn’t go too well. One of my friends try to help conquer my ‘fear’ by coaxing me to go to the movies. I was reluctant, because I had my ‘trauma’ all ready of movies. I’d already seen various films. I hate how the theatres on how loud and blaring it is. I always made excuses to her, not wanting to go. It was the same with my parents—they all want me to deal with it. In this middle school, my class did a dumb, irksome, and sugar coated song. I did a solo of a cover son. I regret it later, guilty for being selfish. In this stupid school was purgatory. They had these small rooms, there was nothing but a desk and a chair. They would put kids in there if they had a meltdown or if you want to be by yourself. At the start, I didn’t mind but then I felt lonely and wanted to talk to someone however no one didn’t want to talk to me or acknowledge.

Depressed and angry as I blame myself for all the people I hurt; I started cutting my hair. I know, I know, it’s weird. But it was better than mutilating my arm and leaving bloody gashes across my wrists. My parents were overwhelmed and furious, so I had to go to a hair salon to get it properly cut. Anytime I’d got in trouble, I cut my hair all over again. My parents thought I was doing this for attention, but in truth I wasn’t trying to get attention. All I was doing was repenting, weird huh? But then again, I didn’t know what repentance looked like, doesn’t prophets fast for days and pray to God? Yeah, that wasn’t too good for me. I did not know why I cut my hair but then I found the answer, it was not cool yet it was better than slitting my wrists. And taking that awful medication, it made me over-weighted and hungry all the time. One time, my dad picked me up from school as he surprised me with French Fries. I was so starving but despite the medication, I ate so fast. My father gently scolded me to not to eat so fast. I tried, I really did, but I couldn't help it. He told me a second time to not eat so fast. I really wasn't playing, I was trying but that stupid medication was making me scarf it down faster. Then, my father had to go and open that big cake hole mouth of his, "STOP STUFFING YOUR FAT FACE!!!!" I stopped eating the fries, I was shocked over what he yelled at me. I didn't know whenever to cry or lash back but I felt like I'd been stabbed in the heart. Later when we got home, I was mad at him for what he said and he didn't apologize. I must've glared at him, he was angry and decided to punish me. Really? You're going to do that after you called me a 'fat face'? Geez, my father was such an ass like that. He's not an honest person I say. 

I went to another school eventually. Thinking I would find a safe haven, but yet again another disaster occurred. In the beginning, I made some friends and the teachers were nice at first and met my first crush. But slowly, I became a bullied victim around the ages of 13 to 14. It was one hell of a nightmare. The more different I was, boys targeted me for my writing. I was a ‘plagiarist songwriter’ (though I didn’t realize that I was copy-writing other songs that I love it but in reality, I didn’t know how to create my own songs). It was the unwanted attention that the bullies were attracted to me, they always asked me constantly ‘What’cha writing about?’ They laugh at me, pick on me. And they knew I was afraid of balls (No! Not a man’s balls but basketballs were the ones that I feared.) as they threatened to throw one, I cowered in fear and they laughed as they walk away from me. Jerks! One of the bullies was a black mane curly haired teen boy who pesters me. He was short, he was Spanish but he was white skinned. He one time flashed his butt at me. In my general direction. Yup, genius. Nice of you to flash your ass towards a lady bro. I should’ve kicked it. What a screw ball school it was! Anyway, moving on. I befriend some girls, who talked to me. They want to get to know me, they were rude and interrupted by ranting. But then, one of them betrayed me by spreading an awful, untrue rumor. Saying I was writing a song about a boy I like but it wasn’t true and thought every thing almost was a joke to her. Jerk off. My songs were about crushes on anime boys. I didn’t want to tell, I could some people didn’t know what anime was. 

But some found out about my love for anime and made fun of me. Well, actually I was bored and researched on Pokemon and my teacher humiliated me. Then my friends teased  me in a horrible manner. They weren't true friends, they didn't get me and I stopped hanging out with them. The teachers and staff, they weren’t helpful, this stupid school wasn’t programmed to stop the bullies. One of my teachers was an old and cranky man. I once beg him about the bullies but he was flat out ignoring me as well as having cotton balls in his ears. Another teacher was a guy who made dumb, sarcastic, and personal jokes about sex. Some people laughed, me? It was too much! Bastard. I hated this school, I was sick of it. I always fake sick and sometimes I have to stay home. I felt guilty a little later because I should've told my mother. Sometimes I cut classes because I hate it. I hated this stupid school, I hated the bullies, I hated the teachers, and the staff who didn't help me with me being bullied. Finally, I told my parents and they told me that I could go to a Christian school. Not really a Catholic education, but something different. I was thrilled to hear this, I didn't talk to anyone that I wasn't coming back at all. Once the year was over, I left behind the school which was a living hell and to find my living heaven. Wanna hear more? It's bittersweet, but it might be a 'happy ending'. Well, sort of. My new life at this Christian school wasn’t so bad. But there was some flaws that made me uncomfortable: A type of class would play a movie as a part of a 'lesson'. But if you ask me, it was more like entertainment. Oh, the trauma. The laughter. My face all pink from my cheeks after they were implanting on the side of my face. My hair disheveled. How I still loathed the sound of laughter, I was still uptight. How more misbehaved I got. Then one of my teachers noticed and talked to my mother. 

How did I believe in God? It sounds scary, it's nothing personal but something that scared the heck out of me straight. There was a video, a Christian one, which talks about Hell in a letter. To Zack from Josh. It started off with the guy, Josh, who says in the letter that he died and how he was standing in line. But as the person in front starts to find his name, it wasn't in it and Josh was being pulled away. He asked what was going on but he was told that those who didn't believe in Jesus were going to Hell. Then, the guy was being put in a dark room and in that room; he thought about his friend--Zack--who was a Christian. But his friend always brushed off about the whole thing about Jesus. Just then, the dark room opens. The guy--Josh--was being pointed and dragged into the pits of fire and brimstone. Hearing the panic made me scared out of my wits. I never knew what Hell was. But the way it sounds, oh no! And I listened to it again a second time and that's when, call me crazy, I had communications with God. He somehow light a way for me and lead me onto a life that I've wanted. I prayed a lot, I accepted Jesus as my savior, and became anew. I started to study from the Bible, I started to learn about Jesus's life, and all the other Biblical stories. King David, Moses, and other religious tales. 

The friends I made were horrible to meet. Forget the living hell of my previous school, this place was all right but it was sad that these people were once nice to me, despite the face that I was a messed up and distraught. But I want to be part of them, to be normal. To be accepted. But alas, I was rejected. One was harsh to me, the other ignored me, some were mean snarks. Sooo, I stopped hanging out with them. I lost more friends for my behavior was getting more and more bad by the minute. I was rebellious, I went on a bus once with a friend and got in trouble. More punishments, more beatings from my father. I got off my medication, thanks to the school's encouragement. I have to give them more encouragement for that because I was sick of being fat and always hungry, always irritable. Here's another talke to tell you guys, and this is unbelievable from my point of view. The retired dean and founder of the Christian school I went to was a madwoman of all sorts. She was a fundamentalist Christian, believing that the world was coming to the end. Christ was coming back and the Devil will claim himself to be the Messiah, ruling the world. Take the mark or die for your faith in Christ. Originally I believed it, accepted it...But then panic roused through me. Do I want a world of eternal bliss in the New Heaven and New Earth? Like there's no pain, no sorrow? I mean, don't get the wrong way but in my opinion. It's too much for me, I want my pain to be ease but being happy and in a peaceful world all the time? No, I couldn't. I believe in God but this? Not really. 

Movies with crowds--I hate them! Why? Well, it is nothing to do with hypersensitivity sounds and no need to deny it. Here are some reason why: First of all I hate it when people talk during a film when you try to watch and listen. Those people are loudly obnoxious, they don't care if people are trying to observe. Second, I hate when I go to the movies, find a total mess with food. Bleh, but no, the loud noises are too much for me! Earlier in my middle school horrendous days: My mother, Valerie, couldn't stand it being around my father, Oren, so she went away with her a friend name Deiondra and her son, Meyneke 'Meick'. We knew these two since childhood however there has been some things I've noticed. Meick has been using my older brother, Harry, for his videos. After Harry did a voice-over video project of the president, Thomas Jeffrerson, Harry became known as TJ the Rapper. Harry was almost a legend of school however Harry didn't want to do it anymore. He didn't want to go outside, he simply didn't do anything but played video games and watch stuff on his iPod. Meick was a jerk to my older brother--and to my little brother Jimmy. Jimmy hated Meick's put downs and he thought I was weird! Man, it was so bad with being with Deiondra. Deiondra just lost her husband, who had liver problems and died (In truth, he himself was an alcoholic so that's what happened to him). Deiondra was miserable and drank a lot. Every time she was drunk; she was mean. Saying how my mother looked bad with her hair up. How we were losers. How this and that. I hated when she smokes, which affected my allergies though I was trying to be a great comfort to her. 

One night, I was offered to go with her for a sleepover. My mother was unsure about this but I was too excited. But during that time there, Deiondra was drunk but I didn't noticed. I was talking and joking with her however I noticed something was wrong. I was lying on an air mattress, she came over and started to get on top, for a moment I thought she'd might hurt me. I got away and realized she went on the mattress. I tried to talk to her but she was too intoxicated so I called my mother and told her what was going on. That was a long time ago, my mother didn't talk to her or hang out with her. Deiondra's drunk behavior was too much and my Mom had to live a positive life. So, that's what she did. After my older brother graduated; Deiondra went to New York with her so-called lover. That was the last time we ever heard about her. But never again. Back in 2011: My father's physical abuse lessen but his verbal and emotional abuse did not stopped. My mother hated it, she tried to deny it. And don't ask me how the other teachers knew what went on with my mother but they did. Dad came by one day at some school thing and talk to one of the staff embers about how he always goes in his room all the time and not watch TV with his wife. My mom was so mortified for what he did, she was angry. She later told Dad that she never said anything like that. The new principal found out of the 'monster' my father was, for she had been through a domestic violence relationship herself. So, she talked to my mother and my mother was starting to get it. So, my mother decided to do something once she understood what was going on and what she could do. 

My father was constantly picking on Harry, who hasn't been coming out because he himself couldn't stand Dad. This comes from the man, who wanted us to get a dog and we eventually got one. A Shih Tzu. Anyways, I'm getting off track. Dad and Harry got into a horrible argument and then, Dad told him that he'd kicked him out. My mother decides to find a new house for all of us, but we had to make it look like Harry was moving out. Previously, Dad also accused the rest of us of neglecting the dog, when the truth was we were taking care of the dog but we had our own lives too. He thought of taking the dog for himself, however I don't think our dog liked my father so much. But when my father found out what was going on, he suddenly changed. Well, that lasted for a minute. My father tried to make changes and try to prove himself he would like to do a family plan however we were still moving out. So, with no getting anywhere; Dad hugged me and my brothers goodbye. He went out the door, and took the car--with all my brothers' stuff. That's when we had to call the principal, who bonded with my mother, and she told us she'd be right there. She instructed us to get things packed and get out of there. So, that's what we did and we moved into our new home. We didn't get the furniture but there was no time. We took everything we could, we could take the dog with us. The next morning, we got the rest stuff in the big van. Dad was away at work. But we still didn't have my older brother's stuff so Jimmy, who became "Daddy-kins' favorite" because Jimmy was nicer to him thank Harry and I were. 

However, Dad tried to steal our second car. Jimmy and I witnessed this as we encouraged Mom to call the police. She was like, "Are you sure?" She seemed skeptical, I was like: "Mom! Don't let him take the car!" And she was convinced. The cop came, he came and talk to my father. My father acted like a child and eventually, Dad went away in his car (The one he borrowed from Grandma) and we went with a friend. During that time, I was quiet. I was stunned over what just happened. Mom noticed, she asked me if I was OK. I denied it but she wasn't backing out and I eventually gave in as she hugged me. I cried, saying that I couldn't believe my father would do such a thing. Later in a few days, Jimmy eventually got the stuff back but Pop was still being manipulative. My mother refuse to let me be part of the divorce court or anything to do with my fathe. I was at first upset but then I learned why: My mother’s biggest fear is that our father would manipulate us, turning me and my brothers against my mom. But you wanna know something? I always have to ask mother questions after what my father would tell me, asking if any of it was true. She would explain the whole story, and I’d get mad at Dad for trying to poison me. I read and research from domestic violence to child abuse. I realize what was going on. So, I was trying to find people who had been through things that related to child abuse and domestic violence. But lost interest because I wanted to live a positive life. 

OK, well. That parts over. Now, it's time for me to tell you on the changes I went through. The nightmares of my childhood I had are in the past. Now, it was time for me to look into the future and its new beginnings. 

After he finished the soda; Leander put it down to use the bathroom. He came back to find out where he left off. He found it and read more of Karina's life, free from her father and the abuse:

Since the day we moved out; We felt free from the bounds of Oren Donovan and my mother, Valerie, changed back to her maiden name eventually. Now she is Valerie Jones. My grandmother, Ginger Donovan, was no too happy about the divorce for Catholics aren't supposed to divorce. In retrospect; Myself, mother, Harry, and Jimmy weren't really Catholics (I tried to think I was Catholics but I thought that didn't accept me too well--considering how some Catholic schools have issues with assault or something else) but we were devoted Christians. We don't go to church. But we do pray and live in a way that God wants us to live. And going to church with my father was no picnic for me: My father was always listening to the sermons and praying, weeping like he was in shame and asking the Lord for forgiveness. And the next minute after church; he's driving and cursing to all the reckless drivers, driving too fast. It was a complete disaster. That's another reason why I don't want to go to church, not because of the noises no, but because of my father. Here he was praying in church and then the next, he is swearing his head off at drivers while going so fast. My God, you should've seen it. I wonder what anyone would think if they saw my father like this. We couldn't stand Dad for his behavior. His manipulations. We were all so sick of it, so that's why we left. But then, I still suffered panic attacks and it got worse for me. So, what happened next? Well, remember that new principal that helped my family and I? Her daughter, who has the exact same name as her, helped me out. I talk to her a little, she got me into this therapy session known as 21 Seconds. I was unsure at first but decided to give it a try. The 21 Seconds was a way to coax with panic attacks and turning fears into excitement. To my amazement, I started to think this was the best thing for me. Would like to hear? Here it goes: The first thing in the 21 Seconds is that you must observe your fear, embrace it, demand more from your anxiety, and then finally trust yourself. There were setbacks so nobody's perfect right?

In 2012 of the summer; I went to a job program and landed myself in an outlet in the mall. I met this nice, black skinned woman who was my mentor. At my first job; I worked in the back of the store. I took clothes which were in packages, put price tags on them, and hang up the clothes nicely. Then the guys, who also worked alongside me, came to take the clothes on the wheeled railed thing where we hang the clothes. To me, it felt great to finally work at a place. There were some good times there, like going to lunch on breaks or joking a little. But we managed to get stuff done. In time, we were assigned to work in the store. Y'know, organize clothes that were hanging up, some things that need organizing. That was my favorite part of the job. I worked from June, July, until August. We were given an award, each of us. A paper certificate. And offered cake, one chocolate and one vanilla. It felt so good to be awarded for something you accomplished. Remember that black skinned woman who was mentoring us a little? Well, she became my teacher. I made the suggestion, I felt bad for her because she said she was having a hard time finding a job so I said that my school was looking for some teachers and I guess that's what happened. In time when she became my teacher; but over this year I was misbehaving and got on her bad side. 

She thought I didn't have the Lord within me. She wanted to take me to church but that wasn't it. She just didn't understand. My behavior worsened as I one time escaped home and walked blocks from there. Mother and Jimmy found me, I tried to apologize but I knew it was too late. My stuff was taken, I yelled at my own mother, I got hit repeatedly but I knew I deserved it. I was making such a hissy fit that the police woman came and I managed to calm down. Knowing my behavior was getting stronger; I was assigned to take TKD classes after school. I didn't want to but I knew I had to get some help. Being in the TaeKwon-Do center for after schools for me, it wasn't so bad at first but then as time progressed, I begin to hate it. The boys didn't acknowledge my existance. The girls were really prissy, dramatic, and mean to me. And all of them were like little kindergartners to sixth graders. Some got in trouble and got really upset. Some were brats who pestered me, it was one heck of a nightmare. I didn't say anything to my mother because she wouldn't think of taking me out. I myself was afraid to leave for I'd be my bad self again and had to remember to have self control. My TKD instructor was never there a lot, he had always leave to do some errands while the kids acted crazy and someone had to watch them. It was the loudest place on the planet. I hated it, I always called Mom, made an excuse of saying I didn't feel well. I didn't want to train here or any where else anymore. I simply hated this. By the end of the year, I didn't take TaeKwon-Do after school classes anymore--which that was a relief for me. And that black skinned female teacher of mine wasn't my teacher anymore so I had a new one. I wasn't relieved that she was gone, she had to find another job but in the end, I didn't bad-mouthed about her. She taught me a few things. Even though sometimes she was harsh and a little bit wicked and misunderstood on my auditory sensitives; I'm not angry with her however I hope she understands someday. 

My new teacher was much more understanding than the other. She always knew and was very caring of me. I must've brought her a lot of trouble but I knew I had to be cured in time so I can adapt more into the world and never be hypersensitive to the sounds again. Empathy. What is it? It is the ability to understand and share the feelings of another. That is a thing I need to work on most. But also, I need to be more mature. On one hand of the person I'm empathetic to is my mom. My mother was going through some problems with the school: That principal I mention? Well, she gotten kind of mean, paranoid, and hypocritical as mother stopped being friends with her. My mother couldn't stand her ignorance and her negative attitude, putting down my mother. All the idiotic teachers (although some were considered 'bright and one of the best'), such as those who give tons of work to their students that do not make sense. Ugh! One was demanding of her payment and my little brother doesn't like her as his teacher. I know it's none of my business but let me tell you why I am writing this. We all go through hardships and dealing with people in our lives. Mother doesn't want me to know but I wouldn't tell a soul. Hell, I'm not saying any names of who is who. What they look like or anything such as that. But she talk about it over the phone with someone else as she was upset about it. I didn't want to know I was listening, The reason why I am in her business is because I want to be more empathetic to her. Once I was very selfish; and my mother became upset. She said, "You have to start being compassionate toward others. Not everything is about you!" I know eavesdropping is not the best thing for me. I guess. I just don't want to be like my dad, who was a selfish and vile man. A total jerk. 

My little brother was having a hard time with my father. He was a jerk really: He tell my little brother that he won't say anything bad about me, my older brother, or my mother. But what does he do? He does it eventually, always yelling at such ridiculous things. Thinking my mother told Harry to lie to my dad about her being asleep. Or the things that happened before Jimmy was born. Seriously, why did he need to hear this bullcrap from him? Jimmy was trying to be nice to Dad but he just didn't want to see him or deal with his fricking stupidity. His smoking of cigarettes (Gross!). He and my mother debated, I could hear them (OK, I shut off my noise machine to listen! Sorry...) discussing but also arguing over about my dad. Finally one month later, Mother thought that my little brother needed help and decide to get him therapy. Jimmy didn't want to go back to Dad's place but there will be some conditions there. Jimmy didn't want to do it however he had no choice. I felt bad for him. But I've been getting on his nerves lately. He always gets angry at me. It was like Dad almost again, but not completely. In time of my progress; I felt my auditory sensitives were worsening. I also was going through repetitive behavior compulsion. My brothers and I have a relationship that seems difficult: We like to insult each other. Anytime I am being cheerful and happy, they just be dry and sarcastically mean. Whenever they are happy, I get all mean back just as they did to me. This was wrong, my mother asked us why are we being mean to each other. In retrospect, none of us have a clue. That's when I found out that I was going through this phase known as repetitive compulsion. The answer I knew, repeating the same things from the past over and over again. Going down the same route as my father did. I knew, I didn't want to go down that way. If I wanted my dreams to come true; I had to cure myself. I need to find cognitive behavioral therapy and sound therapy. I hated myself for being this way. I am not going to be the same as Dad was before. Never. Would I ever go down the path of denial like he did. I refuse, I would try to remember to have self control and get stronger every day. 

I couldn't promise it because I already made promises to myself. I want to be better, I don't feel so strong now. My main goal was to be a perfect, a completely mentally sane and sound young lady. I don't want to change too much, I just want to make improvements. That's all I'm doing. But in my happiness of learning to sew, volunteering at Monkey Joe's and Walgreens, I felt like a responsible young lady. But I knew deep down I didn't feel this way. I had to surpass this shell of what I am and improve of the girl I want to be. A sane young lady. Madness of the sounds, madness of repeating the things my father did before. I will be me, nobody else but me and I will get help soon. 

That puts an end of my story 

The others...They think I'm weird. But I don't want to be....I just want to be accepted as I am. As a whole person and just want to achieve in life. I wrote this poem, to express my way of acceptance: 
I just want to be special, it's better than being normal. I just want to be loved, it's better than being hated. I just want to have friends, it's better than being alone. I just want to be bad ass, it's better than being weak. 


Leander is stunt by this, he just closed the book and try to process of what was going on. She was singing because she longed for compassionate and understanding; even acceptance. Now, he knows what exactly is going on.