Thursday, November 10, 2016

Part Four...The Secret Box


Survival is part of our DNA. Finding that survival is a journey that one must take in order to know exactly what survival really is. I am not speaking of survival when changing a flat tire or coming short of exact change in the grocery store. The survival I am speaking of lives deep within our mind, our body, and our soul. One's own survival will kick in when one least expects it.

Part Four....The Secret Box 

Not long after learning how to keep Rick even tempered and almost livable I decided to do a deep cleaning of the house. I was instructed by Rick to never touch a box up in the closet. I was not to entertain the idea of opening the box, going near the box and if I moved it, well, I would pay the price for it. So, to not have anything happen to me or my face or body, I never touched it until that day.

Rick was gone at work or so he said he was at work I knew I had hours before he would be home. I clutched the box and positioned myself on the edge of the bed. In the back of my mind I always worried of him just coming home and finding the home unkempt, disorderly if you will so I always made it a point to have a picture perfect home.

I grabbed the sides of the box and shook it open and inside I found countless copies of arrest papers, protection orders from other women but the one arrest copies I was shocked to read. Rick was working at a local liquor store that had one of those money order machines. Him and another person that worked there a female, together had made countless money orders in domination's of five hundred dollars, eight hundred dollars, three hundred dollars, and both together, were cashing them at
many banks all over town.

I counted at least twenty five money orders cashed before he was finally caught at a Well Fargo Bank in Orange County. The teller that took the money order was already informed of missing money orders and when she compared the numbers on the money order to the ones that was stolen she immediately went to management which in turn lead to the police coming and arresting Rick.

What I saw at the bottom of the papers shocked me far worse than the arrest that was made for faulty money orders. The signature of my father! I felt a bone chilling fear shuffling through my body. I remember I gasped in shock! Oh my God, my dad was the one that put Rick away for two years. My mind quickly raced back to my dad asking me, "Is there anything you want to tell me?" he wasn't talking about my relationship with Rick, no, he was talking about him being arrested.

I began to shuffle through the other papers within the box in a complete panic seeing my dad's name on every single paper within the box. My head was racing my thoughts were so jumbled I didn't know what to think. It was suddenly so clear to me why Rick said "good thing he doesn't remember me" when in actuality he did remember him.

My entire body began to tremble, my stomach once again was feeling as if I was about to get sick. Guilt flooded my mind of both my parents who had now become so disassociated with me. From me talking to my mom and dad almost every day to now barely speaking to them at all, I felt a huge tidal wave of shame. I could feel the tears slowly begin to drop from my eyes what happened to me, how did I get there, when did I get there? How did I go from this high powered family filled with money and fame to now living a life with an abuser who threatened my very life if I ever tried to leave?

For each turning of pages of learning about Rick which were of course bad, I was still continuing trying to find ways to get this man to love me. For each beating I took, I knew it was something I would never do again, I would improve, I devoted myself to making this man happy. No matter the amount of tears that fell or the marks left on my person, I was sickly determined to get this man to love me and stop hitting me.