Teen Alcatraz
It was the year 1999, I was a reckless little 13 year old. I had been in and out of foster care for years. I had been adopted at 7 years old by a senile 50 year old single woman. She treated my foster siblings and I like we were trash. She was basically the wicked witch from the west. She used us and abused us; she treated us like her personal slaves. I had decided that I could not go on living like this, and I was running away and I would never return that house again.
One cold night, my cousin and I decided our lives were intolerable. We planned our great escape. We threw our bags out of our bedroom windows. Then at exactly 10:30, we walked out our front doors and ran to the nearest empty factory, and met there.
We ran for hours and hours, our destination was an old abandoned trailor of my cousins. It was a crazy night.
By the time we made it to the trailor, hours later I was dirty, mad, and I had wet pants.
We walked inside, the broken down trailor and just started to get into pajamas and there was headlights in the driveway. I panicked and hid. My cousin yelled, “Krissy, Krissy, it’s my mommy!,” I said, “HIDE!!!!!,” because I was not going back to that tyrannical mother of mine.
Well, I guess my cousin was feeling the same as me and she decided to RUN outside to her mother and rat us both out. Her mother, my aunt, let me stay with her that night.
The next day at school, I was called to the principal’s office, and a lady from the Department of Human Services was there. She proceeded to tell me that if I would not go home, right then and there, that their only choice was to send me to shelter.
I, being as naïve as I was, said, “FINE! At least I can start over!”
So, that very day they, transferred me in the middle of Social Studies test to a place where they said I would love, and people would treat me how I wanted to be treated, this place would be called, “Agency Shelter.” It was about five miles from Ottumwa, Ia.
It was about an hour and half drive. I was terrified, and happy at the same time.
The orphanage had its up's and downs I remember certain things such as Movie and gave nights. I remember feeling a sense of coldness I had never felt before I was lonely and at times afraid. From there I went to my first foster home I believe her name was Ms. B I think I was about 12 year's old going there. At this time I was use to not being with my mom and being my own man. Yes man at the age of 12, starting off it wasn’t so bad there was another kid there with the same name as mine. He and I use to sit up and talk about what and who we were going to be when you grew up. There were times when Ms. Johnson had her boyfriend come over to the house they would listen to loud music and drink she got so drunk that at times she made Marquise and I stand in the corner all night long for no good reason at all. I remember visiting my mom in rehab telling her all of what she was doing to me how I didn’t want to be there how mean and lonely it was there. I guess I was thinking I was going to go home someday as she was in rehab getting clean from the drugs. The years went by as I still sat in what felt like a prison with its ups and downs. I talked with my case worker about what was going on in the home they later moved me
It all started with a knock at your door, you have been forced out of your ...
Alcatraz Imagine yourself living in a dirty, smelly, cold prison cell that has water dripping down the walls from the ceiling and hardly ever seeing daylight. If you were a guest at Alcatraz, that is exactly what you would experience. Alcatraz was a Federal Prison located in the San Francisco Bay. It was built on a twelve acre, solid rock island, one mile from the main land. There were no roads or bridges built to get there.
To begin, what led up to my adoption. This was very difficult part of my life, which began when my mom and my dad split up. They broke up when I was very little and my mom met a guy that I really did not like. He was a major alcoholic and always beat my mom, brother and I. There have been times that we tried to get away but he would seem to always find us. This was when finally my brother and I ran away and which caused us to
My friend’s mom worked for the sheriffs department, so she called and I filed a report. Guess what they made me go back home. Yes, they sent me back home, because I was consider a run away. Therefore, for a week I was brutally beat for telling the secret of our family. That week was the week I wish I was dead. I prayed every night for God to take me away. I was grab by my neck and slammed up against the wall and released as I slid down the wall. A nail caught my back and ripped my skin ...
We stepped off the large tour boat with a look of fright in both our eyes. Some joy was there, but knowing what went on in this place made us feel the way we did. To me, Alcatraz didn't really look like a shut down prison at that moment. It looked more like an old worn down cemetery. The paint on most of the buildings was chipped off all the way down to the wood. Most of the buildings had collapsed down to some cement foundations and old rusted poles hanging every other way. As we walked to the building where you start your tour, that was probably the only building at this place with cleanliness to it. They gave us our tour headphones, which take you through the whole prison with a audio guide telling you how it was in the prison. Not just how it was for the prisoners, but how it was for the guards too.
I had gone probably a little bit to far and should had some markings or something to back onto the trail. I had gotten lost I was in the woods for about a day with just me and my gun I didn't eat the whole rest of the day but I had a huge sack full of bision. I had been sitting there about twenty four hours and I heard pounding at the ground so I had to go look because it was my only way out or else I was stranded, it ended up it was some bision but while I was out there it looked a little familiar. It was where I had left and I ran for a total of proably three hours and finally saw the end of our wagon train and didn't loose my group, thank
Since I have came into foster care in 2008 because of neglection, life has been tough at times. In my first foster home, I was so angry at my dad. I took it out on my foster mom; eventually I had to leave. When I arrived at my second home everything seemed fine. In the next few months, things went down hill from there. That was when I found out that my two baby sisters had been adopted, and I wanted to get adopted too. I was 10 years old at the time. I was being beaten by my foster mom, and not being feed. I spent almost a year there. Finally I told my social worker. I got moved to yet another home in Cherryville. I acted so terribly that I stayed there for three weeks. I went to another home to wait for a placement in a PRTF. I lived in the
It was the last Saturday in December of 1997. My brother, sister, and I were chasing after each other throughout the house. As we were running, our parents told us to come and sit down in the living room. They had to tell us something. So, we all went down stairs wondering what was going on. Once we all got down stairs, the three of us got onto the couch. Then, my mom said, “ Well…”
My parents divorced from each other for the second and final time when I was just 8 years old. This led to my younger sisters and I being raised by our mother who, over the span of the rest of our childhood, was in and out of abusive relationships with several men before eventually remarrying the a man who showed little to no regard for the physical or emotional well-being of either my mother or my sisters and I as children. There were countless nights I stayed awake attempting to comfort my little sisters who were crying hysterically upstairs huddled together in a closet with me while our new step father physically beat our mother downstairs while berating her with verbal insults and threats that would make any grown adult
It had come to the attention of my family that I had some sort of psychological problem and something had to be done. I was always labeled as a shy and quiet kid, and like my family I had thought nothing more of my behavior. However, now it had become something more obvious. I had told my parents the kinds of problems I was having. Basically I didn't want to talk to anyone or to be anywhere near anyone I didn't know. I didn't really want to leave my house for any reason for fear that I might have to talk to someone. I was so critical and scrutinizing in relation to myself that I couldn't even enter into a conversation. Everyone seems to have a part of themselves that lends itself to thoughts of pessimism and failure, but mine was something that was in the forefront of my mind at all times. Something telling me that everything I did was a failure, and that anything I ever did would not succeed. Through discussion with my family it was decided that I should move out of my parents house to a place where I could find treatment and get a job. I was to reside with my sister Lisa, her partner Brynn, and their Saint Bernard in Greensboro.
was trying to get used to a state that I had never been too. I walked home and
As time went on, being in foster care didn’t seem that bad. I thought that it would never end; however, it ended for me ...
Decided to go on an adventure of a lifetime. We walked about a mile to some rural area. I was extremely breathless considering the vast amount of heat and the lack of water in this over dry, drought-prone place. It was as though the sun was trying to punish me. I walked through the densest part of the forest and eventually came to a clearing of the sand.
It was a normal Saturday morning everything was going swell until, I awoke up from my slumber only to be left alone at home with my brother. In that short moment where my brother and I were left alone at home to survive I started to panic and overthink the worst-case scenario might happen. That our parents left us to fend for ourselves and we had to endure the up-coming obstacles that would soon arrive. In this experience, I learned not to overthink but to also be patient in and not make hasty decisions.