On October 21st, 1986, at 11:59 am, my Mother introduced another foolish little dreamer into the world. I was born right here in Ft. Myers, Fl, the apple of my Mommie and Daddy's eye. I was their first, last, and only child. Right from the begining I was something of an unorthadox nature. Complications arose after my delivery, for myself and slightly for my Mother- I was a c-section- muah-ha! My Father had not wanted children, but I was just the little girl my Mommy dreamed of and the Grand Daughter that my Father's Father had wanted. My Grandfather's wife however had not wanted a Grand Daughter..."revenge" could come soon enough to my innocence.
I started being able to remember when I was around two. I remember slightly a trip to the hospital, but the most vivid earliest memory is of my second birthday. I remember being in my high chair, and my Grandpa playing with me. He died of Leukemia the following autumn, just around a week before my third birthday. Nothing was ever the same again. Apparently my Grandpa was my protection from how just cruel the world can be. It's a terrible lesson for a four year old to have to learn, but at the ripe old age of four, I was sexually abused by that woman my Grandpa called "wife." She had told my mother that she "just didn't know what she would do if it were a little girl. She just couldn't stand little girls." Well, I suppose we found out. I have not seen her since.
I remember going to a bunch of counciling and going through wrap with my Kindergarten teacher who tried to judge my Mom who was still just a teaching aid at the time. The woman was a hypocritical Christian who didn't want to believe that "she" who had also gone to the same church as herself- that my family had attended since my Father was a little boy could possibly be capable of such. She was a "good Christain woman." That has always confused me. That was also my first encounter with...supernatural. I had begun my story-telling, and writing. My imagination was bright and colorful. In my world, Walt Disney ruled all. He was my "king." Disney movies, books, and my little white rabbit were my best friend. Councilors said that my imagination would be my passport through life. As long as I could create a place to run away to, I would be alright. Writing became my life. I remember my Mother constantly asking me "tell me a story Leesie," and now I understand why.
Over the next few years I got to do a lot of abroad traveling. My parents looking for a place to run away to, a place to run to for answers. They've never found them, but my Dad still searches in vain...poor guy. I've never had the BEST of relationships with my father, he was abusive verbally and physically when I was a little girl, up until about the time that I was 13 and I told him that if he hit me one more time, that would be the last time he would ever see me.
But I'm skipping ahead. I had mentioned supernatural in the first paragraph. After my Father's Mother pulled her little stunt, that was when I at least started to notice things. I could hear things, and see things that others couldn't. My Mother is quite sensitive to these things as well, but not as much as I am. I can remember having a converstaion with my dead Grandfather, and trying to talk to the ghost of the little boy that remained trapped in my room (now my office- I had to move because everything happens in this room.) A lot of people thought that the "scarred" little auburn curly haired girl was just falling apart because of her past. But later it was discovered that I am a dementor. Capale of exercisms, sensing out people, and talking to the dead and demonic. Then it was like everything was alright, since there was a spiritual explaination. It's amazing how much people like to hide behind faith. But I can remember the horrid dreams that I would have. My mother would hear me LITTERALLY screaming in the night, and she would come to me, and try to wake me. But like my father, she couldn't get me to wake up. She would just have to hold me, and rock me. She says that I would cry "leave me alone" and speak in latin, and weird stuff like that. I know why now, and I also know why my father could never wake up- why would she allow her son to wake up? I would be drentched in sweat, and when I did wake up, I would remember everthing that happened. I wonder why they never took those memories from me.
So, all my life I can remember sensing things. I've spoken to ghosts from a civil war soilder on our property in VA. right down to a friend's father. I've gotten sick because I could sense nothing but pure evil on someone, and I've saved a guy friend's life before when I sensed he was about to commit suicide. But in all this crap, the thing that I saw most was that it was fuel for my writing talent. It was like a monologue to follow and write my novels. I don't know if I would be half the writer I am today if I couldn't talk to my Grandfather and stay up late crying because I can feel the pain and dispair of a VERY close friend- or at least of someone that I can bond with strongly and sense out. It takes a certain sort of person to be able to do this, just like it takes a certain sort to be able to make them feel connected.
Anyway, when I was about 6 my Mom's Father died, but the REAL blow came a month before my 10th birthday when my best friend of all my life, Nathan died. I had known him since I was born. He was my Godfather's boy. 3 years older than me. They said it was appendicitis, but I knew the truth. From that day on, I knew that I had to protect the others that I love from this. I studied up on the subject, and trained myself in the field. I fially reached it to a point that I feel is fairly strong, and since the day of my 17th birthday, I haven't slept for more than 5 hours in the night. Because my senses are so strong now, the littlest thing I sense from another person wakes me, or keeps me up.
But from that September day on, everything has changed for me. I lost an innocence of trusting the world, and I was left with very little trust for it and it's inhabitants. I fell into a depression that year, but I pulled myself back out the following year. All through middle school I was just trying to pull myself together, and create myself. By 7th grade I existed, as did my reputation. I was finally there. 8th grade was the year of Mike Guida, and one of the most fun years that I can ever remember. That is when my current friends and I really started to click.
My freshmen year of high school opened new doors for me. Newspaper, marching band, and a re-kindled crush from 7th grade. But the wind blew in from the west, a cold, autum, september wind. It blew an urchin named Billy into my life. If there was one thing I wish I could go back and change in my life, it would be meeting him. All of the trust that I had left in the world, and in people left with that boy. He screwed me over, and he screwed me up. Freshmen year was good other than that.
Sophomore year Billy was still a big issue- it was this year that he did his damage. But I was an officer in the band, and the opinion editor in newspaper. I went through MAJOR depression modes, and my parents had no clue what to do with me. Here is where our relationshi turned. They went from the people that I could tell ANYTHING to, to the people that I HID things from, even my Mother. I cried myself to sleep for months because I needed an adult to talk to. I needed ANYONE to talk to, but no one was really there. I met a few more friends like Cristin and got closer with others like Cathy and Laurence.
I'm skipping a great deal, I know. But that leads me to this year. I'm an officer in the band, the opinion editor, and co-editor of the paper. I switched to mellophone and french horn, but still keep my clarinet family close. I've become close to De Yana, I can talk to my friends about nearly anything, and not give a damn about what they think, and I've finally embraced my 5 year old crush on Jon Green. Which even though it seems to have been a mistake, at least we're friends. It's got it's ups and downs, but my gawd, what relationship of ANY SORT doesn't? Lil' miss homo-phobe here became really good friends with Shawn Gonzales. We went to prom together, which won me over a little more publicity, along with being associated with Jon Green, and his brother Tim- who I have always found to be the shizznit. All my years have been bad and good, adn there was bad with this year as well. I've been going through depression stages, and my health has been really acting up, but I've managed to hide most of it VERY well. Plus Billy dropped out of school- leaving my life forever this year. This was ultimatly the year of Jon though. I found my happiness, my inspiration, and my smile in him. If nothing else, he's one of the greatest friends I've ever had, and...I dunno...
God only knows what ext year will bring. I'll probably still go out to my car and just drive to the middle of no where to sit and cry- just get it all out of my system. Because even though I've been called a hard ass, and everyone thinks I'm a strong, crazy girl, I can fall apart with the push of a button. The good part about that is, only one finger knows where to locate the big red button. Everything else is just air on the g-string.
There's a lot that I've skipped over, but I reserve the rights to certain parts of my life. After all, we all have our little secrets.
Besides, they're always room to update.
The Asylum
