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PHONE LINE
My cousin had an addiction to one of those chat lines. She used to call them up and talk all day long. If you have ever seen an add for a phone chat line, they make it seem like all the cool people will be chilling on the phone with you, but really, it is a place for young kids who feel left of of real fun to meet pedophiles who act like they are your knights in shining armor. Our parents punished us for calling, but whenever i went to Missi's house, she would call them anyway. We had fake names like in on line chat rooms. My cousin was called Diamond, and the boys/men on the phone line would call up Missi's favorite radio stations and dedicate songs to her. It made her feel famous. My name on the phone line was Maliki. My parents knew that i called "the line" when i was with Melissa and they yelled at me for it and i yelled back like a spoiled little teenager, and they told me "WHATEVER YOU DO, DO NOT GIVE OUT YOUR PHONE NUMBER"
Now, i dont recall if i gave it out or if my cousin gave it to this guy, but in 7th grade a 23 year old man named "Brett" started calling my house and making obscene calls looking for Maliki. This was While i was dating this boy in my grade, Mike Crowley, a gentleman whom i could not understand what he wanted in me. He did not want sex, he hardly even wanted to touch my boobs. He just told me how beautiful i was and how much he loved me. It made me angry that he did not want to have sex with me. I told him if he really loved me, he'd try to fuck me. But he wouldn't, so i started talking on the phone late at night while my parents were in bed, with Brett, the prank caller. He taught m about phone sex and told me he loved me so much and wanted to meet up with me in person.
There was an all day Jr Youth Group event at my church, and although my parents wanted to drop me off there, i asked them just to give me the $20 for the event, and i would ride my bike. They knew i was lying, but arguing with me always turned out painful, so they let me go.
I rode my bike to my middle school instead, where Brett met me in his shitbox car, smelling like booze and cigaretts. He made me nervous, he was so old and yucky, but he said he loved me and would make me feel good. He took me to a motel on route 1 in Saugus... the kind you rent by the hour. He stripped himself and then me, and we got into the bed and he tried to put his penis in me, but the bones closed over the hole in fear. He was angry that he could not get his dick in me, so he hit me and told m to blow him instead, and took me promply back to the school. I thought we were going to spend the whole day together like he had told me, and here it was, still only like 10 on the morning, and i had told my parents i would be at the Youth Group event until late that afternoon. I locked my bike up at the school, again to sore to ride, and i walked downtown to the convienient store, hoping no one would see me and call my parents to tell them i had lied. i was so scared that they'd know i lied. They did not approve of me being a whore. i didnt understand why not, but i was just a kid.
I called Amy from the pay phone at the store down the street from her and told her i needed to come over ASAP. She said i could, but that her family was about to go out that day to visit relatibves overnight. I asked if i could come by until she left, and she said of course, so i ran to her house and bragged to her that i had just lost my virginity for real, by choice. I told her i was in love and what a good man Brett was. Amy's family had to leav sooner than i wanted, and i was left with no where to go all day. I found retreat in the woods by my grandparent's house. I had to enter from the other side to avoid walking by their house. In the afternoon it started to rain. I was not due back until night. I walked to one of my newer friend's houses and knocked on her door, but her father said she was not allowed to see me. i begged him but he called me a no good drunk whore and he didn't want me around his daughter. So i walked to the church where my youth group was soon due to be back from their day trip. I had to wait there alone for a while, but luckily the door to the parish center was open and i hid in the bathroom until the group returned. They asked where i had been. They thought i was going to be going on the trip with them, and i told them i was sorry and that i was riding my bike to get there in the morning and i got a flat tire and panicked. My youth group leader Lynne did not believe me, but she took me to her office to find out what really happened. i told her because i trusted her, but i said that if she told my parents that they would beat me and that i'd have to kill myself. She was scared and so she did not tell them. She cared about me but also knew i was lying about something.

I stayed in youth group for the rest of middle school and also high school. The St. Agnes youth group, and Lynne was the coolest leader a kid could ask for. She was open minded, accepting, huggable and she was even a little bit of a rebel despite the fact that she waited for marriage to lose her virginity, which i thought was just crazy. She said swear words sometimes and when she occaisionlly read important, relevant stories from the bible, she would refer to God as "she". She had all of us in youth group doing charity, raking leaves and bringing food to old people, soup kitchens... we loved to help others. i loved my youth group because it made me feel like even though i had this horrid whore side, i was doing something right.
The year after i graduated, Lynne was fired by St. Agnes for being too liberal, and they hired a bible belt lady to tak her place. She was young and beautiful, but no one liked her cuz all she did was quote the bible and act like youth group was CCD class (so i was told by my younger sister who had joined youth group while lynne was still there.) i don't think lisa stayed in youth group much longer. Most of the kids dropped out after Lynne left.

Brett kept calling me after that day, asking when we would get together again. My grades from the start of 6th grade were mostly all A's and B's, but by the time i reached 8th grade, i failed everything but English... of course, English was a bit of a challenge as i was attracted to my English teacher. Looking back again, i see she reminded me of the Godmother. None of the boys or i were ever able to concentrate in class because we were looking at Mrs. Howland's great legs.
she was a good teacher too, although i manged to get decent grades having not done any homework whatsoever, and never having read the books or short stories assigned. i didn't do homework in middle school. i had a job as a whore.

One day,early in 8th grade, sitting in english class, everyone was staring at me and taking "mock" photographs of me (pretending to take pictures with an invisible camera". They kept doing it while Mrs. Howland's eyes were on the board, so when i jumped out of my seat and screamed "what the fuck are you all doing to me?" i was asked to sit down and calm down. A note was passed to me when she was at the board again. "We saw the poloroids. We know what you did this summer" it said.
I knew they were talking about the finger fucking incedent at the jock's house, but i thought it was my fault. i chose to go there to the house even though i had been told not to... i was a whore and they were just doing what people do to whores. i never even thought to report it as rape. I denied POSING for the pictures, which to this day i have still never seen, but i could not deny the act.
My boyfriend Mike was so angry at me. We had broken up and gotten back together about 20 times already... i had been counting. He was mad and he wrote me letters telling me what a whore i was. I told him i loved him but that i needed to have a sexual relationship as well, and he didnt want one... he just wanted to love me and i couldn't understand how that worked.

Brett kept calling me and i kept ignoring him. i started drinking again though to wash away the memories. i took diet pills to keep me up longer and i did anything at all to fuck up my head.

There was another girl in my grade, from my church, who seemed to find me intreaging. Her mother was a grumpy dykish looking woman who couched softball and would not allow her daugher to hang out with me. This was now my second friend who was not allowed to see me. I called her mom and asked her what the fuck her problem was, and she said her problem was that i needed to change my life if i was gonna see her daughter, because her daughter was not going to be best friends with a druggie whore. She told me i should try out for a sport, so i decided to go with softball. I wasnt too bad until i started bringing vodka in my thermous to games instead of water or gatorade. But i was determined to show that woman that i could play spoirts AND be me. I of course have grown up since then and respect Mrs. Riley for protecting her children from the evil forces in my life. I thought i hated her for such a long time because i really loved her daughter and wanted her as my friend. i felt like i was being victimized by her, but i was victimized by all else.

Comments

( 3 comments — Leave a comment )
coriander
May. 27th, 2008 06:45 am (UTC)
I cannot even imagine being this age and experiencing all of these things. You experienced a lifetime of things before you were even a teenager.

Edited at 2008-05-27 06:46 am (UTC)
mrshannibal
Jun. 1st, 2008 02:59 am (UTC)
wow.
you said exactly what i was thinking.
djcliche
Jun. 1st, 2008 06:42 am (UTC)
yeah
( 3 comments — Leave a comment )

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