The Orphan I Am Chronicles – 56

I’m not sure why, but lately I have been thinking of incidents in my early childhood, while living in the orphanage and also my brief time in a foster home (shudders).

My brother and I both stayed in the same foster home for a short while before living permanently in the orphanage. I can recall my ‘foster mother’ being quite verbally abusive. One night while having trouble sleeping, crying because of the situation I was in, while staring upwards at the dark ceiling, she came in the bedroom and sat beside me, instead of trying to comfort me, she without any reason as far as I can remember, she says something like this, “you think You have a reason to cry? One day you will die and you won’t be able to think of anything, you won’t be able to see anything or anybody, you will be buried underground rotting.” Then she gets up laughing as I laid confused and crying a the mere thought of what she had just revealed.

I was about 5 or 6 years of age I think, hell whatever age, I knew even then that what had just taken place was wrong, more hateful, evil even. It bothered me for weeks, that image of nothingness, non-existence. My twin brother Tim, fast asleep in the bed near me, had not heard the words so deliberately spoken to promote fear and confusion in already a bad place in which my mind was. So as I tried at such young age to make sense of my abandonment in such a cruel setting, the following weeks were equally as ‘troubling’. One morning, while at the table waiting on breakfast, she poured cereal into my brothers bowl and because I would not eat the turnips from dinner the previous night, she spooned them into my bowl and tried forcing me to eat them, the end result was me gagging and yes, throwing up all over the table. As she dragged me from the table, cursing and grabbing the belt and beating me, I remember looking up at Tim and seeing him cry, this angered me.

So I took the beating and also became more resilient to that ‘woman’ and her abusive ways. It only got worse there, but my brother and I was determined to stay strong, never break and well, do what was necessary to be removed from there and placed back in the orphanage. A few months later, we indeed was moved and the process of trying to forget what took place there began. At a young age I would find out that forgetting something bad was not an easy thing to do, not at all………tbc


~ by tonekinchloe on November 2, 2013.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s


Exploring wise-craft and weirdness

Adventures of The Nude Writer

Living And Loving In My Naked Little World

Words Read and Written

Ramblings of an aspiring author & book blogger

Shannon A Thompson

You need the world, and the world needs good people.

Beyond Compromise - الثَّوابِت

Resistance Until Liberation & Return

S. Laura Artworks

My art is the child of my imagination!



Jamie Krug

I am the luckiest woman, mom, and wife in the world. Or am I the unluckiest...? It really depends on the day.


Not a writer.

A Holistic Journey

Finding my way back out of motherhood -- while mothering

Art Attack

Discovering art in everything

Words of Margaux

Humor and Motivation for Writers and Other Dreamers


Pictures of toes, pictures of feet, making the world a better place, one foot at a time.

%d bloggers like this: