I remember...

I remember…

I remember wanting so much to have a friend. I remember being so lonely and so sure that there was something terribly wrong with me. I remember believing that the devil was following me around and the reason was because I was a terribly bad person. Although, I always tried to be good. I was good. I was scared and good and kind.

I remember Apple Crumble at my Nana’s house. I remember her smoking. A lot. I remember never feeling very welcome in her home or Cindy’s. I remember feeling tolerated, not liked or loved.

I remember loving my mother. I remember thinking that she was the answer to everything. I remember the day she molested me and how she hated me when I told her to stop. I remember her ignoring me from that day on and how she stopped caring or showing any emotion at all when Jessi beat me up. I remember that time Jessi held a knife to my throat and my womb released her entire period in one whoosh, blood and guts all down my legs and onto the floor.

I remember when Jessi was 16 and living with her 28 year old boyfriend just down the road. I remember our mother was refusing to speak to her or of her. I remember going to visit her one afternoon after school and her smoking so much hash that she was heaving and vomiting for ages over the toilet bowl. I remember putting her to bed and begging her to come home. I remember going home to our mother and begging her to talk to Jessi, to tell her that she could home, tell her please come home. I remember our mother refusing to listen.

I remember the last time I saw my sister. She was high on something - irritated and angry and her skin all lumpy and red. She came to visit me in the holiday flat that we were renting. I was home alone with my 4 month old baby girl. Jessi was flying around the small apartment in a inexplicable rage. My baby girl was in a basket on the floor. I remember Jessi telling me that my daughter was the reincarnation of the baby she had aborted at the same time that I had conceived. I remember being so afraid for my safety and the safety of my baby. I remember loving my sister so much and being terrified of her in equal measure.

I remember feeling like a victim of my family. That I had no choice but to cease all contact with my mother and my sisters. I remember the day, not too long ago when I realized that it was my choice. I decided to choose myself and my little family. I remember that moment when I started to feel free.