Originally published in August 2009, re-published here in part, copyright. Maddad

Part One:

http://maddad0467.newsvine.com/_news/2010/06/12/4501645-a-story-of-abuse-part-one

Part Two:

http://maddad0467.newsvine.com/_news/2010/06/19/4527420-a-story-of-abuse-part-two

Part Three:

http://maddad0467.newsvine.com/_news/2010/06/30/4590866-a-story-of-abuse-part-three

Part Four

http://maddad0467.newsvine.com/_news/2010/07/02/4603998-a-story-of-abuse-part-four

Part Five

It was sunny and bright, the boy wished he had some clean clothes, and maybe some shorts would be nice, but at least he was "safe", he thought. The gang walked up to this guy sitting under a pavilion, the middle aged man with coke bottle glasses was playing solitaire with an old set of cards with naked pictures of woman on them. "What's shaken this morning kids?" he asked without missing a beat with the cards. ""Got a newbie today, Commodore" the oldest boy said. "well, let's have a look" the Commodore grunted, glancing up, almost dismissively, he looked the boy up and down. "well the party is at my place this afternoon" he said, "now get on outa here". As quickly as the group had walked up the whole bunch jetted up and walked away. The boy followed wondering what was next. After walking around for several hours, they arrived at a seaside apartment complex. Climbing up the fire escapes in the back they arrived at the dingy, dark apartment of "the Commodore", as they climbed in the widow he grunted...."who's ready for a drink?" The boy was hot and thirsty, and without a blink, said "me, i will take one." He was handed a tall glass of what appeared to be orange juice, but one sip confirmed it was much more. The boy drank it down like water. An instant feeling of ease and comfort enveloped him. As quick as it was gone the Commodore refilled it. There was music playing the other kids were laughing and drinking, a fat joint was being passed with ease. The boy thought to himself...maybe this won't be so bad after all.

For what seemed like hours they drank and laughed, the Commodore just sitting there smiling and filling the cups. As the sun began to dim in the late afternoon sky, the boy started feeling sleepy, the drinking and smoking had begun to take their toll. "why don't you go take a shower", the Commodore asked, you will feel better and it will wake you up a bit." The others were lounging around, some napping, some drinking and smoking with that 1000 yard stare in their eyes. "Ok", the boy said, "that would be nice". After a 30 minute shower, the boy stepped out of the bathroom to find all the others gone. "where is everyone?" the boy asked...."they will be back soon" the man said. As the boy moved across the living room past the Commodore a ringing slam came across the back of his head. All went black...........................

This story was originally published in August, 2009. It is re-published here, in part.

This is a true story of one boy's life on the streets. His survival, the abuse he endured and the results of the life he was forced to live. He could be the kid you pass on the highway, the one you comment about...."damn I wouldn't let my kid out here by himself! what's wrong with those parent?' or the kid leaned up against the wall at the corner store or the mall...just killin' time...."another punk!...look Martha, are we not lucky to have such good children?"

This is about sharing this boy's story and hopefully making the reader more aware of the reality that faces the forgotten kids of the streets. I hope you will take a new prospective away & hopefully find a way to be part of the solution instead a member of the "too bad for them" club.

Step-dad and mom are drunk again. Come here boy! the step-dad yells. It is time for the daily humiliation of being belittled and verbally disassembled....."your a worthless piece of @!$%#".."you know that?", ...."no I am not" the timid, but very angry 12 year old responds. "What did you say boy!?" smack! a broad hit across the face comes without warning. "you don't talk to me like that boy". "look me in the eye, you coward!, only a little pussy can't look another person in the eye when they speak"......and so goes the after dinner routine in the nice southern sub-division. Mom just leaves the room and takes another drink. Hell before this knight in shining armor came along she was working full time to support her kids and dating "bums", this one has money, a nice home and the security that was so important.

Later that night as mom snores in her alcohol induced coma and the boy struggles for the little sleep afforded in a war zone, step-daddy gets bored. His Manhattan is watered down and cold. He walks in the boy's room (a converted enclosed porch) and throws the drink in the boy's face, followed by a hard slap across the face...."wake up pussy!" mommy isn't here to protect you now." He drags the kid outside, knocks him to the ground and commences to kick him in the ribs, legs and head as the boy struggles to get to his feet. The kid sees the neighbors closing their drapes, "I guess I do deserve it", the boy thinks through the pain. This phase of training only stops when the trainer gets tired of the game, then it's off to a blissful sleep.

Next morning normally brings mom telling the boy..."oh, come on, it wasn't that bad. I keep telling you, just do what he says and stay out of the way." But not this time, the boy is a bit confused....."son, I am concerned you are going to get really hurt here, we need to get you away from all this." It is finally over! The boy, although he feels a certain sense of misgiving, is so relieved, we're leaving he thinks to himself...finally. Mom helps him pack, puts him in the front seat and a duffel bag in the trunk and off they go. About 40 miles south to the biggest city in the area. She stops the car, they get out, she hands him the duffel bag and $50.00 and says.."good luck, call me. I will let you know when it is safe to come back." Then she drives off, leaving a 12 year old kid standing on the street. An adventure she called it. But as the boy was all too soon to find out, being beat by a drunk will seem like heaven.

Fear...not a new emotion for this kid, although he doesn't define it that way. By this time any emotion that comes down the pike is manifest by anger and internal misery.

Part Two: http://maddad0467.newsvine.com/_news/2010/06/19/4527420-a-story-of-abuse-part-two

copyright: Maddad