Wednesday, January 4, 2017

THe Blame Game

The one thing I loved the most growing up in my household was having my dad come home from work, sitting down for dinner as a family hearing about our daily lives. After dinner, my dad would pull out his briefcase so he could dig into his work. I loved reading about his cases, what he was doing in court, and reading the rap sheets of criminals who thought they could actually get away with their chosen crime.

I did that for many years so of course my dad's career was something I wanted to follow in. It was exciting, it was something different everyday, there was no routine mundane job. You know those jobs, get up to some blaring alarm, fight traffic that seems to grow each and everyday faster then the weeds in your own backyard. Finding yourself confined to a small cubical no bigger than your fridge, go home fight more traffic only to repeat it every single day for the next five days.

Not my dad's job, so, when I got older I attended law school. I still remember what my very first law professor proclaiming to his new students ten minutes after sitting down in our desk with our law books that cost over two hundred dollars;

"If it looks like a chicken, if it clucks like a chicken, if it lays eggs like a chicken, then it's a F**KING chicken"  

He educated us on the fine arts of criminals often referring back to the chicken statement. If it looks like a criminal, has a rap sheet like a criminal, conducts robbery attempts of committing a crime, that person is a criminal.

When one is wanting to put someone away for a crime well, you better have solid proof that whoever did in fact commit that crime, you should be sporting pictures, cameras, fingerprints, and witnesses so when you enter the courtroom you have a slam dunk case.

Taking My Mom Down

After all my education of law school it seemed as if everything I learned just flew out the window. I had never been on that side of the table being accused of actually committing a crime. Everything I learned, mastered, and became very good at for some reason just went up in flames. Savi had every intention of taking me down and she didn't care who she hurt, how she hurt them, or what she did. She wanted to be out of the house so badly that she was going to go nonstop at anything or anyone in her way of going to go live with her dad.

As I sat there dumbfounded at what this crazy CPS woman was saying I did and provided for my own daughter, I was actually speechless. I had no emotions, I was just numb. That brief moment of numbness my mind drifted back to when Savi was a baby.

My mom and dad were over at mine and Ricks apartment. Savi just wouldn't stop crying. She cried day and night, she caused me to have zero sleep and if I had a pedometer on my foot at the zillions of times I have walked her, rocked her, I probably would of walked and rocked from California to New York. Finally I just put Savi on the floor and began examining her body.

"What in the hell are you doing to her?" my mom asked in such bewilderment.

"There has got to be 666 on her somewhere, no child is this possessed to cause me such grief."

My racing thoughts of my past were brought back by Barbara when she snapped at me to answer her. I turned to see Raiza's face and I could see her talking to me yet I heard nothing. I saw Sara emerge from her room holding Sela and talking yet I also heard nothing.

"Mom," Sara said, I saw her mouth move, I barely heard the muffled words out of her mouth. Still I heard nothing until Sara snapped at me.

"MOM!" I finally came back to everyone in the room, "I know where she keeps her things, she showed me last week."

I grew increasingly alarmed at the fact that she knew about Savi's "stash" and she never told me. I knew right then and there she felt trapped and stuck in the middle. She didn't want to snitch on her sister yet she didn't know what to do.

"What things? What are you talking about Sara, you mean to tell me that you knew of this and you never told me." I asked her so angrily.

"Hey, she came and just told you, she wants to protect you, take it for what it is and try to understand." said Raiza with a sympathetic yet stern voice.

I remember Raiza walking over taking Sela from Sara and then Sara falling apart from the pressures of what was going on. Barbara of course was writing everything down, every single word, every single action from myself and Sara and she was still pissed that Raiza was there and not leaving.

"Can you please show me where it is?" asked Barbara standing up making her way to Sara. Sara just stood there looking at me unsure of what to say or do so I nodded telling her to show her because I really had no clue as to what was going on.

"My mom really didn't know this, Savi made me promise to not tell mom, she really didn't know that Savi was cutting herself with these things. My mom never once gave Savi any of these things that you think she did, Savi made these things on her own." Imagine such a powerful statement from such a young child.

"That's not for you to decide Sara. I do still want to talk to you, I still want to get to the bottom of this before I pass this case along to the next social worker. Now why don't you just show me where she hides this "stuff" that she uses to cut herself that your mother provides for her."

I could tell that Sara was wanting to come to my rescue, I could tell that she felt compelled at the tender age of nine to be my savior. Raiza also shared how hard living with Savi was and of course that all backfired. Mrs. Ramsey didn't care what I had to say, Sara had to say and she certainly didn't want to hear from Raiza.

I guess when your back is up against the wall and the enemy is coming at you in every angle, every shove, every push, you have to fight back in order to survive. I was not going to let my daughter who now I am finding out is so messed up so screwed up, she was not going to take me down. This was one of those "Fight or Flight" situations.

I was not going to wave my white flag and claim defeat, I was not about to let some kid rule my world, I am the adult, I am the parent, I have lived my life knowing for every action there is a reaction and the reaction can be just what it really is, a total bomb.

"So, let me ask you this Barbara, if you don't give two shits what anyone has to say, why in the hell do you want to talk to us, I mean, does it really matter what me say, is it going to aid me in my defense or, are you going to put me on a chair with a noose around my neck and then suddenly kick the chair out from under me and watch me dangle?"

I remember Barbara spinning around and glaring at me with such and evil look. I knew that look all to well from either Savi or the multiple criminals I questioned. It was a look that said "how dare you challenge me, how dare you speak to me in that tone, how dare you period."

"Go find what you think I did, go and do your snooping, go and write down what you want because at this point it doesn't really matter does it, your not going to care what anyone has to say in this house, you just want to conquer and destroy. Let me ask you this Barbara, how do you sleep with yourself at night?"