The Ninth Memory

That summer two kids in my grade killed themselves.  It was really shocking to me, especially because I had for so long entertained my own suicidal thoughts.  It really got me thinking about things and my diary entries got more and more desperate.  Mom was back with Larry, and things hadn't changed at all.  Sonnie and I began fighting even more.  He was always so desperate for a father figure, that he didn't see the way Larry really was, and Larry fed into that by always treating Sonnie better than me because he allowed it.  I really wasn't close to anyone in my family at this point and felt totally unwanted in my own home.  This is when I started to get angry instead of feeling hurt.  I was pissed and I was determined to get the hell out of there as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

10/25/00
Dear Diary,

"We're priority here, you're not."  Those were the magical words said to my by my mom not more than 5 minutes ago.  We will see about that.

Love, Cassie

Luckily, this is when I really fell full on in love with theater.  I was a drama kid through and through and they all accepted me and loved me.  The first play I auditioned for I got a big role (Amy in Little Women) and I was set.  It was like it was meant to be, me finding theater.  My new friends were older, and they empowered me.  I saw that not all kids lived like I did, and that I could make my own future and I didn't have to do this my whole life, I just had to struggle with it a few more years.  And I was out for revenge.

11/30/00
Dear Diary,

I can't take this anymore.  I am going to blow.  HELP ME SOMEONE!!

Love, Cassie
I'm going to get them!!!


12/03/00
Diary,

I'm NOT putting up with it anymore.  I am getting out of here.  I will live with Dad if I have to.  I HATE LARRY!!! I will make him pay, he'll be sorry.

Love, Cassie

Although my entries were still filled with self-loathing, they became more and more angry.  My dad was still doing drugs, nothing had changed with Larry, and now something new thrown into the mix...REAL boyfriends.  Boyfriends that I was too embarrassed to let them pick me  up at my place because it was always a toss up of how the house would look, or how the mood would be.  Mom was often depressed, and when she got depressed the house got filthy.  And I mean FILTHY.  To the point where I would intentionally break dishes so I didn't have to wash them because they were covered in moldy food.  Or the point where when it came time to take the trash out there were maggots on the kitchen floor.  It was really bad.  It had been this way off and on for a long time, but the older I got the more embarrassing it was.  I mean who wants people in their house that is THAT dirty?  The school year went on, as it always did, and at the beginning of the summer mom decided that we were moving to Cleveland, again.