Fifteen Seconds

An autobiography

I’m not exactly sure what it is that makes writing things down so real. There’s something about typing the words you could never bring yourself to say, so you can sit and stare at them as if you weren’t expecting for them to look such a way. The realizations you make at such a young age are quite heartbreaking, and the innocence of a child could be ruined in fifteen seconds. My fifteen seconds started on a beautiful May afternoon when I was in second grade.

I stepped off the bus and a gust of wind blew the bangs off my face, revealing a bloody bruise above my left eyebrow from the night before. With the opening of my front door, my sister Lorraine rushed past me and up the stairs. She was two years older than me, and she was so pure then. I walked up my stairs and towards my parents’ room expecting to see my dad relaxing on the bed watching T.V.. I would never walk in there if he was there, but I usually would walk past to see if he was home.

It wouldn’t be strange to see the bedroom empty. It wouldn’t be strange to see my father’s car missing from the driveway. He would stop at the bar after work and drink until the sun went down. I remember him being at the bar more than being home. Nothing was more important to him then his beer; where do you think he was when I was being born? My mom had her last 6 children without him by her side.

I walked past the empty bedroom that day and an atypical sight caught my eye. Not only was the room blank of people, half of the stuff that belonged there was gone. I ran to my mom who explained to me that my verbally and physically abusive father was kicked out. I went the next four years without seeing or hearing from my dad, and I stayed oblivious as to what caused his disappearance from our lives for the next six.

My single mom now had seven kids and a newborn grandchild to care for by herself with an average job. Within the next year, we lost our house to the bank, moved into a three bedroom apartment an hour away from my simple life in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. My innocence was lost that year. I was never aware of my abusive father, it was one of the things that goes right over a kids head. I figured it was normal, it was all I’ve ever known. No, I witnessed my short tempered father hit my mom, beat my brothers, throw my sister down the stairs and lock her outside in the middle of winter. I’ve seen him throw another beer can away, punch a hole in walls, and hit my seven year old self. When we moved, I wouldn’t ever be the same. All the imagination was replaced with realization of the real world, and I came to the conclusion that my six siblings and I were fatherless.

The next years were pretty uneventful until sixth grade came along, and my father decided to contact my oldest sister, Gina. Then started the distant relationship with my father that is still held today. Although we would talk occasionally, child support was never paid. Money was always on my family’s mind, and prevented us from many opportunities. At this point in time, my mom, six brothers and sisters, niece, and I were all crammed into a three bedroom apartment. Our refrigerator was empty, the electricity would often be shut off, along with the water and cable. My mom was working seven days a week and taking night courses at Neumann University five nights a week. Life as rough, but what was left of my family had a close and special bond together.

The first to move out was my second oldest sister, Jen and her four year old daughter, Jade. Shortly after, my oldest sister Gina moved out and into her boyfriend’s house. Although there were less mouths to feed, money was still a struggle with my oldest brother, Matt, starting trade school at Williamson. I was in seventh grade, and the only people left in the house were my mom, my brother Mark, my sisters Rosie and Lorraine, and me. My mom stopped going to school, and was diagnosed with Lupus, which is a disease that impacts the immune system. Times were hard, and I feared for my mother’s life on multiple occasions.

Fast forward to eighth grade. This was easily the worst year of my life. My brother mark was now off to college so, Rosie and I were sharing a room and Lorraine and my mom shared a room. The other room was for when Matt and Mark came home from college. Sharing a room with Rosie was difficult because she wouldn’t let me sleep in the bed with her, and she would often lock me out of the room with all my stuff in it. I was sleeping on the floor in Lorraine’s room that year. My mom would snore while she slept and Lorraine kicked my mom out because she couldn’t sleep with her snoring, so my mom was sleeping on the couch in the living room. To start off my eighth grade year, I found a letter written by my mom the year she kicked my dad out. I was currently aware of his abusive behavior and alcoholism. As I read this heartbreaking letter, my mom explained how my father would often cheat on her and abuse drugs in the garage with his own kids’ bikes. Heroine was particularly his favorite. I read to the end and wiped tears off my face as I returned the letter to its’ hiding spot.

Gina had moved back in and was sat down along with my mom by my sister closest to my age, Lorraine a few nights later. She was a sophmore in highschool, and telling my mom how she was pretty sure she was lesbian. My family was very accepting of her and loved her just the same. She then started working at a fast food chain where she met a transgender girl to boy named Jayden. Lorraine was spending a lot of time working and hanging out with Jayden and another new friend she met through Jayden, who was also transgender. In January of my eighth grade year, Lorraine suddenly changed her name on social media to “Jake.” My siblings and I were confused, so we asked her about it, and she told us that she was now identifying as a boy. This tore my family apart. My mom was very accepting, Gina was highly against it along with Jen. Lorraine received a letter from Jen explaining how she couldn’t expose her young daughter to this “fucked up s**t.” I understood how Jen didn’t want to confuse Jade, how would a five year old understand that “Aunt Rainy” is now “Uncle Jake?” Rosie and my brothers were distant from the situation, and I didn’t how to react.

It was soon put into my young mind that she was only saying she was transgender because she started hanging out with transgender kids. Lorraine and Gina-the two sisters closest to me- hated each other. All three of us were stuck in room together, and there was repeatedly physical violence between Lorraine and Gina. A war had outbroken in my family. I remember how much it hurt to see my mom lying on the couch crying and saying there is no God, as she flicked off the sky. My caring mom was talking to Lorraine, and somehow it was revealed that Lorraine had been taking a number of drugs, including xanax, shrooms, heroine, and cocaine. She was put into rehab the first time at fifteen. While she was away, I found a stack of notes in her desk drawer. I flipped through and saw one with my name on it, so I immediately opened it and read her suicide letter to me. I then continued to read the notes to my mom, Gina, and the rest of my siblings. There were a few for her friends, but not one for my father, which was not surprising. When she came back from rehab, she was put into a mental hospital because it was discovered she was hurting herself, and there was proof of suicidal thoughts.

When she came back, the tension in my house was still intense. If you were in the same room as someone, no matter who it was, it felt like oxygen was running out. Gina moved in with my grandparents, and Lorraine seemed to be getting a little happier. However, it was still evident she was using drugs, and was sent back to rehab at sixteen because she was addicted to xanax. She came back from rehab and it almost seemed like she was worse. She got home and ran away. We didn’t hear from her for three days. Even when she wasn’t home, everyone was at each other’s throats. My mom and I got in our first and only fight and she was screaming how I had no family while I cried into pillow on the couch. She then proceeded to tell me how we weren’t having Christmas, Thanksgiving, or going to any of our family traditions because we were no longer a family. I couldn’t help but blame Lorraine for the downfall of our family that was so close and happy a few months earlier. While all this chaos was erupting at home, I also had a friend of mine commit suicide when I was thirteen.

Right before the summer started, Lorraine quit her job at Freddys and over the following weeks, her and Jayden began to drift apart. When tension finally died down in my house, Lorraine decided to not be transgender and revealed that she just wanted to be Lorraine again. (However to this day, I still have kids come up to me at school and call her Jake, which makes me extremely uncomfortable) People might think Gina is a bad person for not accepting Lorraine, but no one ever talks about the family. All you hear people talking about is how sorry they are for the conflicted victim, but the families are suffering as well.

Author's Note

Let me know if this is boring, it's my first writing and it's not done yet