Breaking Brooklyn (18 page)

Jack Napier - Day 39

When my mother saw the bruises on my arms she
knew better than to make me come back and visit. Hell, she was as
scared of Sy as I was.

I lived with my grandmother for almost a year
before I saw my mother again. That's when I learned she left Sy and
moved to Bloomington. I immediately wanted to visit so I could see
my brother and sister. Having them in my life made me feel a sense
of family, which I desperately longed for. But what I really wanted
was to be back in my mother’s life. I desperately wanted her
affection, for her to love me.

So, I spent the summer before eighth grade
with my mother in Bloomington. The attic where she lived had been
converted into an extra-large bedroom. It was perfect! My brother
and sister along with me turned it into a small apartment with a TV
and a couch.

It wasn’t long before I made friends with the
kids in trailer park adjacent to our house. Unlike my friends in
Broad Ripple, these kids were wild. We would meet at an old
abandoned house at the end of our street to smoke, drink, and tell
funny stories.

I was unsupervised and having the time of my
life. It got even more interesting when my new friend Rich
introduced me to a thirty-something woman named Cathy Colletti, who
had five-year-old son. Cathy had a thing for high school boys like
Rich and myself. When we weren’t at the abandoned house, we were at
Cathy’s. She would buy us beer and let us party at her house all
night long. When her son Danny would go to bed things would get
crazy.

I actually hated going over there because
Cathy reminded me of my mother. Rich had a thing for her, though,
so I went along with it for him. When we were there I had to get
drunk to deal with the situation. It made me sick to see Cathy, who
was my mother’s age, all over my friend. Rich was only fifteen -
half her age! She would make out with him right in front of me,
doing everything but actually have sex.

This went on for weeks. When Rich became more
comfortable going over there he would invite others to join us.
These visits now became full-blown underage drinking parties. Cathy
was buying us all alcohol and word was getting out that this was
the place to be.

At one of the parties Cathy got on the coffee
table and started dancing like a stripper for a group of boys. She
flirting with one who, ironically, looked a lot like Rich. Pulling
up her top she flashed him her breasts. When the song was over she
found Rich. She grabbed him by the hand and led him to her
bedroom.

That's when Amy, one of the girls that lived
in the trailer park, waved at me to come over and talk to her. Amy
had a younger sister the same age as my brother who were friends,
so I saw Amy a lot.

We talked for hours about school, music, and
all kinds of other meaningless stuff. It got so late it was only
her and I. We started to kiss. I could taste the sprits on her
lips.

Grabbing my hand, she put it under her shirt.
My pulse started to race. Laying on the floor we covering ourselves
with an old army blanket. I got on top of her and started to grind.
I was so nervous I started to shake inside. Grabbing my hand she
moved it down to her panties. Moving my hand downward, I could feel
a patch of hair. My heart was now beating so fast it felt like it
was skipping beats.

Suddenly I was overtaken with the feeling that
I was doing something wrong. Amy unbuttoned my pants and started to
push them down. I guess this was my signal to take them off. I
wanted to stop, but something inside wouldn’t allow me. So, I took
off my pants. Then I removed her panties. I was so used to things
in my life moving in slow motion but at that moment it was in fast
forward. Before I knew it I was inside her. It should have felt
amazing to a kid who had never had sex. Instead I felt a deep
emptiness. I pictured my mother as a kid. Was Amy doing this
because she was trying to fill a hole? Was I doing the same
thing?

I immediately pulled out, put on my pants, and
got the hell out of there. I am sure I made her feel like a whore,
which was not my intent. When I got home I took a shower. I
scrubbed myself over and over, desperately trying to clean the
memory off me. I was riddled with the guilt for months.

A few days later Rich and I were on our way to
Cathy’s. We were later than usual. When we got to her house no one
was there, which I thought was odd. We opened her door and walked
inside. I heard the familiar grunting sounds I grew up with. Rich
was clueless, but I knew right away what was happening. I tried to
stop him from going into Cathy’s room. When he opened the door he
stood frozen. Noticing Rich at the door, Cathy rolled over and
covered herself with the bed sheet.

“
It’s not what it looks like!”
Cathy shouted.

Rich didn't say a word, instead he took off
running. He was never the same after that.

After all the drama with Cathy, Rich and I
were ready to have some fun and forget about the whole ordeal. That
summer break was a blast. By far the best up to that point in my
life.

The summer seemed to end almost as fast as it
began. Before I knew it my grandmother was there to pick me up. She
was in for a big surprise because I hadn’t packed. I wasn't
planning on leaving.

“
What’s going on, honey?” she
asked noticing is wasn't ready. “Didn’t you know I was coming
today?”

“
W-w-well, Grandma,” I stuttered.
“Um, I wanted to ask you something.”

“
What is it, Jack?”

“
I was wondering. I want to know…
I want to ask, if, well…”

“
Come out with it,” she
demanded.

“
I want to live here with my
brother and sister,” I quickly blurted out.

She glared at me in utter bewilderment. I
could tell she didn’t know what to say.

“
What about football? You have
worked so hard.”

“
Grandma, I have thought about it.
I really don’t want to play anymore."

“
You’re so good. You love
football. You’ve been playing ever since you were old enough to
run!” The wrinkles on Grandma Daisy face told me she was struggling
with my decision. Finally, she let out a sigh.

"Your mother finally has a place of her own
and it looks like she has got her act together," she
conceded.

I'm sure my decision came as a shock to
Grandma Daisy but I know she didn’t want me to resent her for not
letting me stay.

“
Is that a yes,
Grandma?”

“
That’s a yes, Jack. You know I
love you more than anything in this world. I want you to be
happy.”

She ran her fingers through my hair, then she
gave me a big hug. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she
plodded towards the door. There was a sadness in her heart that I
can still feel to this day. She had fought so hard to save me from
her daughter, only to lose me by my own accord. But I was chasing
my mother’s love and there was nothing I could do to
stop.

Cindy

Chapter
twenty

“Young girls are like helpless
children in the hands of amorous men, whatever is said to them is
true and whatever manipulation on their bodies seems like love to
them, sooner or later, they come back to their senses, but the
scars are not dead inasmuch as her spoiler lives.”
~Michael Bassey Johnson

Cindy Napier’s Diary

May 26th 1995

There are memories that are so horrific to us,
we have to try and suppress them by any means necessary. They
consume the space where self-esteem struggles to grow. Their sole
purpose is to deprive us of happiness.

When I was a child, I was burdened with a
heavy blanket of bad memories. It's not until now that I have been
able to confront them. My concern has never been for my own
wellbeing, it has been for the benefit of Jack’s. The evil that is
done to us as children is like a virus that infiltrates our DNA; it
becomes a part of who we are. If we are not carful it can be passed
on to our children.

As much as I want to, I can never tell Jack
the truth. I just hope that writing about it will somehow set me
free.

When I was a child, I was my father's little
princess. He absolutely adored me. I would sleep in his arms at
night and he would curl himself around me. This made me feel
protected and loved. We had a special bond that I never felt with
my mother.

Then things changed when I got into middle
school. My father had become a fulltime drunk. When he would hug me
I could smell the booze on his breath. He would whisper in my ear
how much he loved me. Then he would kiss me on the lips like he did
when I was a kid. At 13 years old, it was extremely awkward. It
made me so uncomfortable. I tolerated it because I loved him, which
was a big mistake.

As I grew older, my father fell deeper into
his alcoholism and things got worse. What started off as
inappropriate, crossed the line. One night on our way home from
Spencer, my father pulled me over from the passenger side of the
car so I was sitting next to him. He then put his arm around me and
kissed my forehead. His eyes were glossy and he reeked of
whiskey.

He started rubbing my shoulders which at first
felt good, then became uncomfortable when he made his was to my
chest. When I pulled away and he protested.

"What's wrong, sweetie! You know how much I
love you. Don't be afraid, I would never hurt you.”

Obviously, he was drunk, but there was a
sincerity in his eyes that I couldn't resist. I loved him more than
anything it the world.

Taking my hand, he placed it on his thigh. He
was breathing heavily. Then he moved my hand over until I felt his
hardness. He ran his fingers though the back of my hair like he did
when I was a child. Then I saw his eyes close! We started swerving
all over the road! Quickly, I pulled away as the car swerved into
the oncoming traffic. Opening his eyes, my father grabbed the
steering wheel and pulled over to the side of the road. Then he
passed out. I was so scared, I didn't know what to do.

Pushing him over to the passenger side I got
behind the steering wheel and contemplated what I was going to do.
My father had let me drive the car in the country before, but we
were in the city. I wasn’t comfortable driving but I had no choice.
If I didn't my father would surely be arrested. I wasn't about to
let that happen. So, I sucked it up and drove home.

When we got to the house I left him in the
car. In the morning when my mother found him I told her he drove me
home then went out to meet some friends. My mother didn’t suspect a
thing.

Chapter
twenty-One

“Killing is not so easy as the
innocent believe.”
~J.K. Rowling

Jack Napier - Day 41

Like a broken record that repeats itself, my
life in Bloomington turned into a mess. Yes, I was having a blast
with my new friends - but things at home were not good. My mother
and her new boyfriend Leo would have sex in the living room at
night while my brother, sister, and I were upstairs in bed. I guess
they thought we were asleep. I could hear every detail which would
send me into an internal rage. For one thing, if I could hear it,
so could Danielle and Michael. My mother had no shame. No pride. No
love, for anyone but herself.

Needing to release the anger that was building
within me, I started cutting myself with a knife. I remember seeing
cuts on the arm of one of the kids I met when I was in the Child
Protective Services center. When I asked him about it he described
how it made him feel better. I thought he was crazy. Why would
anyone do that? But there it was, a pocketknife pushed against my
arm, slowly cutting into my skin. And it felt good!

I put on my headphones and cranked up the
music to drown out the disgusting sounds my mother and Leo made.
Then I would start cutting myself. Each cut made me feel better. I
can't explain why but it did.

I tried to stay away from the house as much as
possible, but I would break down with hunger and go home. My mother
fell off the wagon before she was in the new house for even three
months. She was back to being the drunk I grew up with, and Leo was
along for the ride. The two of them together were like wild
teenagers on spring break.