I'm 31 and female. It matters. Now, this encounter happened when I was 15. It's an old story but I finally get to type it out for everyone to read. My mother was on drugs most of my life.
So you can imagine the life I lived as a young girl in a small town full of creeps and druggies.
The house I lived in when I was 15 was actually pretty nice for a crack head's place. Three bedroom, one bath shared between two rooms.
I had picked the master bedroom and slept in the walk in closet. I was a random weird kid.
My mother always had a few men at the house that she made us kids call "Uncle" One in particular was a man named Jessie. But this story isn't about him.
Uncle Jessie was a pretty nice guy for a crack head. He was nice to us kids. Every time he came over it was hugs all around.
He even bought us a Nintendo once! Pretty sure, looking back, that it was stolen. One day he came by the house while mother was gone on a week long drug run.
I let Jessy in because I trusted him with myself and my younger siblings. But as he walked in the house I noticed he brought a friend...
Fireball was what he wanted to be called. It was Jessie's brother. I had never met him before and was a little creeped out, but I trusted my "Uncle" So I said nothing about it.
I told the men that mom was out for a few days and they should really head out and check around town for her. She would shack up here and there for a week to do whatever it was she did.
Jessy agreed that they should leave, but didn't move for the door right away. He asked for a drink. I agreed to get him one. I went into the dirty nasty kitchen and searched for a clean glass.
AS I worked on this task...Fireball came into the room. I pretended not to notice, but my senses went into survival mode.
"'ey baby girl? You got yo'self a bathroom?"
"Yeah, um, go into that room there and its the door on the left. If you walk into some coats you've gone too far."
He laughed and pat my shoulder. Ew. I was waiting for about 30 seconds for him to remove his hand. When he didn't I looked at him.
He was smiling, showing those missing teeth all meth heads had a lack of. I told him, in my best tough girl voice, to remove his hand and go to the bathroom. He replied with,
"Wanna come with me?"
**EXCUSE THE FUCK OUTTA ME???** I shoved him and went to the living room. Jessy was gone.
I'm sure he didn't mean to leave his brother, but he did! I was there, alone with two young kids and this man named Fireball.
I gathered up every bit of badass girl mentality I could and after about 20 minutes, I got this guy out.
I locked all the doors and windows, and sat by the front door with a baseball bat for what seemed like an hour.
I recently heard from my mother that Jessie had passed away. I actually felt sad about it for a second, until I asked what happened.
Turns out, Fireball had murdered him after they got into a fight over the fact that Jessie found out he had raped a few young girls. Thinking back, that could have been me that one day.
Thank goodness it wasn't!