Angels

I remember laying in my bed. I shared a room with two other girls in a dorm that housed ten in total. Across the hall from us was the boys dorm which housed eleven. At the end of the hallways was two rooms, one was a time out/storage room and the other was the "office" where the staff stayed during the night other then to do routine checks on us and our laundry.

My eyes felt heavy and sleep was near as I listened to the other girls whispering int he dark. This was where I lived, but, very seldom did I feel a part of anything. I was seldom included in night time raids on the boy's dorms and even less seldom was I included in the late night talks. I learned to get past it with my silent prayers.

Out the darkness a scream pierced the night and I bolted upright in my bed. It was coming from down the hall and all three of us made a mad scramble for the door.

The screams continued. Heartbreaking and gut wrenching. We knew something horrible had happened and we ran into the pair that slept in the room between us and our goal. Out of the room where the screams came from stumbled the other two occupants of the room and admid much confusion and panic they told us that it was Lila and that she was asleep.

The main door opened and Pat entered the room. Pat is probably the biggest man I've ever seen, even to this day. He easily weighed six hundred pounds and the running joke was that he had his own zip code. He laughed along with us about it. This night though, his dark Indian face showed no signs of humor as he ordered all of us to go into what was my room.

We could hear his deep voice speaking to her, although how we heard it above her screams is still beyond me. The moment she heard his voice, she began to scream harder. Only this time there were words.

"No daddy no, not the basement, please daddy, please, I'll be a good girl, I promise"

Over and over it was like a litany. She could not be awakened and the rest of us girls clung to one another with tears streaming down our faces. Suddenly I realized I was a part of them for a brief moment and I felt sick to my stomach with that realization.

It lasted nearly thirty minutes before they brought in a female staff member who was able to wake her from the nightmare and get her settled back down.

That was Lila's first night. Every single night after that seemed to be the same. Even now, almost sixteen years later, I will sometimes wake up in a cold sweat, sure that I'd heard her again.

She was so beautiful. Probably one of the most beautiful girls we ever had at Western Acadamy. Long blonde hair that hung straight down to her waist. She had the face of a china doll.

But inside her, her heart and soul had been tortured. Her body raped by her own father while her mother literally stood by and watched him drag her down into that basement. It kept her father from wanting sex with her mother and that was all that mattered to her.

I spent many years at Western Acadamy and as I begin to explore my past you will see alot of these stories coming out. I have not changed the names because I hope to someday make contact with those that lived there with me.

Many times people will ask me how I managed to survive all that I did in my life. For me it is so very simple. While I faced my own trials and pain, there are others who survived much worse then me. It makes it very hard for me to allow myself to feel self pity.

The girls, and even the boys I lived with each had their own stories. They are their stories and perhaps I do not have a right to tell them, but I will. Only because their lives were so entwined with mine that it is hard for me to tell my story without telling you part of theirs.

Lila touched me in a way that very few people ever have. I have always had a deep understanding and great empathy. Even as a child, perhaps >because< of the kind of child I was.

I watched Lila grow in the months that she lived with us. After a while, the nightmares became less frequent although I don't recall that they ever stopped.

We spent hours listning to music and dancing and talking about boys and love and life and all the things normal girls talked about. But only in our room.

Downstairs, downstairs was the place of secrets. Secrets told and secrets kept. It was where we had to attend not only group therapy, but our individual therapy sessions. Every single day there was sessions. Not for each of us, but for someone. We lived in a home that was in a constant state of chaos and termoil. None of us were ever allowed to forget our demons, or the demons of those who lived with us.

Our problems were constantly crammed down our throats with no real answers for why, or how these horrible things were allowed to happen.

We were not allowed to leave. All we had was each other and we clung to that with a desperation that was almost frightning. I sobbed for days when Lila left.

She wrote us once or twice, but, I suppose life got in the way and things fell to the wayside. I still don't know what happened to her. I don't know if her life is happy or if she is in prison, or if she married. Most of all, I don't know if she was ever able to fend off the demons in her dreams.

I have a dear friend whom I've met through my blogging. Her name is Angel and she has her own story to tell. I encourage all of my readers to go there and read her story. It is called Silent No More and you can find the link on my main blog page.

I firmly believe that if more people were aware of the kind of abuse our young children suffer and were able to identify the signs of abuse, maybe, just maybe, one child could be spared the kind of pain and suffering that seems so rampant.

Please, take a look at Angel's story and open your hearts and minds. If you are being abused, or know of someone who is being abused, find the courage to do what is right and put an end to it. You may just save a life.

Angel, kudos to you for being brave enough to share what is so obviously a painful time in your past. Your courage is awe-inspiring as well as humbling. Thank you for reminding me of things long forgotten and giving me the courage to speak out on them as well.