My Childhood Part Two

So sorry it took so long to update this, here's the next part of my story.

      I went to the principles office as soon as I got to school that day and asked to speak to an adult. I told them about the drugs and about what was happening at home. I had mentioned all of this to a counselor before but it took me actually bringing drugs to school to get anyone to listen to me. I told them I refused to go back home with my grandma, so they called CPS who came and took me to the main office downtown. I was scared, I didn't know what the future held for me and I was afraid that I would have to go back to Linda. I knew if I went home I would face her wrath, and that she might have killed me then.
      I spent most of the day in the CPS office, I remember I had my first ever Happy Meal from McDonald's (that I remember) for lunch. Finally, I met my caseworker and repeated my story to her and she worked on finding me a foster home. I was taken to a foster home full of other foster kids, I had nothing with me. I wasn't allowed to go home and get any of my belongings. The home had at least four or five other kids, all girls living there. I shared a room with one girl close to my age. It was a nice home, the family seemed nice and the new school wasn't bad. I only lived there for a few weeks because I was accused of stealing make-up, even though I hadn't. My roommate did and planted it in my stuff, and the foster mom found out and was furious. So off I went back to the CPS office.
      This time it was harder for them to find me another home because I had a "record", I spent the whole day there again. My caseworker eventually found me a home an hour away with an elderly lady who insisted I would call her "grandma". She was poor and had no job, she used the foster care system as a way to pay her bills, which meant the money intended to care for me was mostly used for herself. I didn't own much of anything, mostly hand me down clothes that were too big for me. I pretty much had free range to go anywhere and do anything in the neighborhood as long as I came home before it got dark. I quickly made friends with the neighbor boy and we used to go exploring all the time. Eventually, my foster grandma's grandson came to live with us too. He was much older than me and I remember he didn't have a drivers license for some reason. He used to pick on me all the time, and even one time he forced his way into my room even when I told him no. When I tried to get him out of my room by pushing him (he was a big guy, so I didn't do much) he shoved me down on the floor and made my nose bleed. I never told anyone because I was afraid of getting into trouble. The school I went to was a high school/middle school mix. I had never been in middle school before, it was so scary for me to go from elementary school in the middle of the school year to middle school with older kids. I didn't have many friends and the one friend I thought I had slapped me in the face one day and called me a bitch. I have no memory of why she did that but it was the first time it happened to me.
I stayed in that home for 6 months until CPS called again, this time they wanted to put me in a treatment foster home with my brother who had just gotten out of the group boys home he was in. Due to his behavioral problems, we had to be in a special home with parents who were supposedly trained to handle his behavior.  This home was probably one of the worst out of all the foster homes I had been in. The parents seemed ok at first. The foster mom smoked and the first thing I remember about being there is that everything smelled horrible. She also enjoyed smoking in the truck with us and when I sat behind her she would flick the ashes out the window, but the wind would blow them back into my face. I told her but she didn't believe me. My brother and I shared a room for a while which was really weird since I hadn't shared a room with him since I was 5. I eventually got my own room but I wasn't allowed to change anything about it. They made a decent amount of money but they kept most of the foster money and didn't use much on us. They liked to have lots of parties, and we would be forced to go to our room while they had guests over. They also enjoyed going to the bar a lot and would take us with them. while they drank we were put in a "kids" room with toys and left there for hours. The holidays where the worst, we were made sure to feel like we weren't apart of their family. 
       During this whole time, Linda was working on getting clean and getting a new home so that we could be in a reunion with her, that's the goal of foster care after all. After six more months in the treatment foster home, we were packed up and moved into our new apartment with Linda. We moved from Santa Fe to Albuquerque to a three-bedroom apartment. Linda even had a new car and seemed to be completely clean from all drugs. It was at the beginning of our summer off from school so it was the perfect time to get adjusted to life together again. I was nervous about moving back in with her, fear that she would beat me for everything I did but she did nothing. I think she was afraid of me reporting her again. We got all new clothes and a new bed for each of us, and toys as well. There was a pool at the apartment so I spent most of the summer playing in the pool by myself, where I taught myself how to swim. I loved the water, it was my happy place. I made a few new friends as well and even a "boyfriend". He seemed like a nice guy, but got very very aggressive with me at one point and lifted me by the throat and threw me against a tree. I sprained my wrist and had bruises, and he was giving a warning for violence. I never saw him again.
      Everything seemed to be ok for a while, but then Linda started neglecting us again. She stopped buying us groceries or making our food. She stopped doing our laundry or buying us basic hygiene necessities. When school was supposed to start she never enrolled us into school, by the time I finally got her to do it school had been going on for a month at least. I was picked on at school because of the clothes that didn't fit (they were donated to me) and my hygiene. I was also had started puberty but wasn't given any help (no bra, deodorant, or shaving like every other girl did). I quickly grew depressed and starting skipping school. I would pretend to be Linda and call the school to tell them I was "sick" and I would go hide under a camper trailer in the apartment complex or I would just stay in my room. Linda never noticed or kept track of me. I eventually got caught one day by a police officer hiding under the camper. He asked me why I was hiding and so I told him every that was going on. I explained how my grandmother Linda wasn't caring for us and I was embarrassed to go to school. Luckily this officer really listened to me and helped me. I ended up in a group hope that night.
      The group home felt similar to a jail honestly. When I got there I had to strip down in front of someone to show I didn't have any weapons. I was finally able to take a shower and was given clean clothes and a toothbrush. We had a very strict schedule, and I shared a room with a girl my age. I still went to the same school, but my depression was getting worse and I would find any reason I could to skip. I stayed in the group home for a month or so, through my 13th birthday. Shortly after my 13th birthday, I was told that some extended family members wanted me and my brother (who was still with Linda) to come live with them. My Grandparents from my mom's side of the family and an aunt came and picked up me and my brother from New Mexico. We started our nine road trip to Texas to start our new life with our new family. The whole drive there I felt a sense of relief wash over me, I wasn't going back to live with Linda. I was finally safe.

My Childhood Part 1

I was born in 1992 to a young couple. My mother was only 20 years old and my father was 17 or 18. For the first couple of years of my life, they raised me. I don't know much about what kind of parents they were, just rumors from others. Some people tell me my mother partied all the time and left me alone with strangers. I was told my father was a deadbeat abusive man, but I'll never really know. My mother passed away in 2011, and my father is an addict who is in rehab. I lived with my biological parents for only the first two years of my life until my paternal grandfather (Mike) came and got my brother and me.
Mike was a wonderful father to me, we were very close. Despite having Mike around he couldn't always protect me from my grandmother Linda, who from as early as I can remember had a heavy hand and harsh words towards me. Most of my childhood memories involve her beating me, or verbally abusing me. She was mean, and even though I was a good kid she always found some reason for me to be in trouble. Her favorite methods of abusing me were using a broom or a belt. Sometimes, she would hit me so hard with a broom I couldn't breathe. One instance I can recall her hitting me was when we were returning from visiting a family member. I guess I was too rowdy or something, but she was very angry at me. When we got home I got out of the van and she hit me over the head with a large rock that was sitting nearby. It cut my head open pretty bad, and I still have the scar to this day. I'm always reminded of it because the scar causes a crazy cowlick in my hair. Another time was on Halloween, and I was upset because we weren't going trick or treating like we usually did (this was right after 9/11) and I didn't understand why. Instead, we were moving two by fours for some reason and accidentally hit her behind her knees with the wood because I wasn't paying attention. She proceeded to hit me as hard as she could with the two by four she was carrying, knocking the wind out of me. There were many different times she abused me, but I think the worst time was when my brother and I made a deal to run away. I was tired of her hitting me all the time, I didn't think it was fair and my brother just went along with the idea. Our plan was to run away at sundown so that we could hide. I was too scared to go through with it though so I just hid in our property before finally coming home for dinner. My brother on the other hand actually ran off and headed for the gas station down the street. A cop found my brother and called my grandma who then turned to me angrily and cornered me by the front door. She kept yelling at me and asking me why he would run away, and I finally told her that it's probably because she hits us all the time! That sent into a rage and she kept hitting me over and over and over again. I was in a corner and there was no escape, the thought I was going to die. If it wasn't for my grandpa mike, she probably would have kept hitting me until I was unconscious.
He always came in a saved me from her when he was home.
I spent a lot of time with my grandfather, he was a water well driller and when I wasn't in school I was at work with him. probably to keep me away from Linda the best he could. some of the few good childhood memories I have was from moments with him. He taught me all about tools and would have me fetch him the things he needed while working and I loved it. We would have moments to ourselves where he would just hold me and I always cherished those times because it was some of the few times I actually felt loved as a child. When he passed away from lung cancer, I was more than upset. My whole world shattered, the one person who was good to me in life was gone and I was left alone with a woman who would abuse me. I was scared and depressed, and I didn't know how to go on with my life.
My grandmother Linda did not handle Mike's passing well at all, she went into a very deep depression and turned to crack cocaine for comfort. She was already smoking marijuana before Mike passed away, she just hid and lied about it. She sent my brother away to a boys home because he had behavioral issues. and that left me alone with her. After a while, she started inviting her drug dealer friends to come to live with us. I spent most of my time hiding from them or going to school. A few of them even tried to get me (around 11 or 12 at the time) to try some cocaine. At one point a man stayed with us in a living area just outside my room. Linda left the house and left me all alone with him. I stayed in my room, keeping to myself as usual when I heard a knock on my door and when I opened it there was the man standing there naked with an erection. I immediately slammed the door shut and moved my dresser in front of the door while he pounded it trying to get in. I was terrified. I told Linda about it and she kicked him out, but the damage was already done. I was tired of living in that kind of environment, tired of the abuse. So one day Linda left some drugs out on the counter, I snuck them into my pocket and took them with me to school that day.

To be continued......