The Halfblood Sister

Chapter 10: Old Nightmares and New Dreams

I think one of the reasons that I like Jensen so much is because he doesn't try to hide what he's feeling. He just says what is in his heart and on his mind. I watch all the other girls seeming so confused with their boyfriends and on the shows I watch there is always this cat-and-mouse game. There isn't any of that with him. I mean who says to someone I think I will love you before it's over? That has to be a red flag for someone who's going to be possessive or obsessive or something right?

I want to find a reason for something about this to be wrong. I can see that I'm already trying to self-sabotage this good thing in my life. My therapist tells me to be self-aware and notice when this type of idealism begins. I was made to feel worthless in my young developmental stages of life. Mother would use me for benefits from the state. However, I didn't see the benefit at all. She must have fed me enough for me to survive because I did. I can remember she wasn't addicted before. I don't have any signs of having a mother who was addicted during pregnancy. I suppose that could be luck. But mother seemed to have been taught etiquette at some point in life based on her conversation sometimes. She seemed so smart once upon a time. Maybe only because I was a child. The house we lived in was a house that was provided by the company my grandfather had worked for.

He was killed in an accident at his work dad had told us. The company had purchased the home for his widow and the children he had left behind. Mother had told me I should be thankful to have had a grandad like that. Otherwise, she would have to sell her body to pay rent somewhere. It wouldn't have paid rent though and I knew that. Mother and dad had stayed together for this reason. The least he could do was provide a home for us for the rest of our lives. Money had been put aside in an estate for dad and it was set up to pay the taxes and homeowners insurance for as long as there was a living relative. The remaining amount was a payout to dad when he turned 24. The money had created a partying monster and attracted mother in an instant. She wasn't a gold digger but wanted someone stable that could provide. It had started well, to hear her tell it.

They were in college and one thing led to another. Poof, there were two children and somewhere in there a car accident. A pharmaceutical strategy that shook our nation to its core by pushing narcotics onto patients with what was referred to as "chronic pain", had ripped through my parent's lives like wildfire. Dad had been able to hold down a job at his construction site by using my pee when he would be drug tested. Well, that and the fact that he had to have money to keep up their habits. Mother had gotten to the point she couldn't work any longer and stayed home all day every day working up a way for them to get high that evening. I couldn't wait for school every day so I could get breakfast and lunch. I always got extra to take home to Leslie once she could have solid food. I had brought milk a couple of times when she was a baby but it had spoiled before I got home. I didn't do that anymore.

The company that they kept wasn't a clean crowd at all. They went to these parties and while they were there Leslie got to stay strapped into her car seat at the table or in a room they were in. They would do lines of cocaine and sit around a table drinking and playing cards. Smoking pot and having a great time while pushing me to go and play. I heard this over and over when I would try to escape the mean kids I was being forced to play with. Go Play Go Play Go Play...

If you don't stop coming in here you've had it when we get home. I remember getting a whipping with dads belt one night because of it. I eventually stopped and that is when the bullies stopped just teasing and pushing me around. A few of the girls started touching me and making me touch them. Threatening that they would go get me in trouble if I didn't or if I told. Then a few of the different boys had done this over the years as well. I felt like trash. Just used up by everyone. How could so many people have the same idea to hurt me this way? Was it everyone? I didn't think this way. Why did they? What was wrong with them or had I just been born to be a trash bag for them?

These were the thoughts that passed through my head almost daily. How worthless I was. How disgusting I must be on the inside after at least 6 people had me before I was even a freshman in high school. Nobody knew these things. Not even my therapist. She knew things had happened but not how many people had done things to me. She had told me that I would most likely have a hard time accepting any good relationships in my life.

I had really pushed Pax away too in the beginning after being placed here. I couldn't accept the fact that he truly just wanted to help us with nothing in return expected. I love him like he was family. He and his wife Lucy and their daughter Caroline. She was my age and we got along very well. She had been who I talked to first and I didn't tell her the truth about these things either. I would probably never tell anyone the whole truth. It was my truth and I had a hard time dealing with it. No way would I expect anyone else to.

It has been such a long day and with a lot of excitement. I drift off with these thoughts in my brain and fall right back into the Holace nightmare. This time I'm able to slap that board upside his head real good. He yells in pain Ow it hurts! It hurts so bad! and I see his eyeball hanging out of its socket. His voice is Nate's though as he cries in pain. I try to care but I don't. I want to knock the other eye out too and so I hit him again, and again, and again. Before I know it I have beaten him to death in my dream. I stand there looking at him and I see everyone that had done this to me back then. I see their faces as clear as day. I feel no shame or pity. Only relief.

I suddenly awoke to the light blaring in my eyes and the sound of Leslie vomiting in the bathroom. "Sis, you ok?" I yell as I'm walking toward the bathroom door. It slams in my face and she yaps back "Yes I'm just sick. Can I have some privacy please and just let me be sick!"

"Ok, fine I'll go into the common room and lay on the couch. Let me know if you need anything ok?" I hear her hurl and take that as a yes. I grab my pillow and blanket and head down to ask the night shift if they can give me the room to sleep on the couch. This would make them have to go into the kitchen or the den that is separated from the living area, but I'm sure they won't mind.

They are staffed to make sure no kids are sneaking out at night or trying to run away. Also not sneaking anyone in like a girl did last year. That was some drama. She had been doing it for 2 weeks before she got caught too. I'm surprised they didn't send her up to level 3 housing facilities, but they didn't. They had said it was very irresponsible of her to do so even knowing some of the girl's histories. She could have triggered some of the fosters that were here causing a lot of pain. But ultimately it was just a girl being a girl and they put her on some extra duties and gave her punishment for a month. It could have been worse but it had scared us enough that I don't think anyone else will try it. Before long I'm back to sleep and no more dreams to speak of came around that night.