I was 16 years old and I was riding my bike home from high school. My commute was about 8 miles to school and back. I was riding my usual route through this parking lot when something happened, probably trying to do something I thought was cool and I slammed my bike into a car. A parked car. I slammed my left wrist on the car and fell off the bike. After checking if anyone saw me, I got back on my bike and rode down the hill to my home. I was greeted by an empty home and realized the pain in my wrist was getting worse. I sat and watched tv until my mother came home.
I can not remember what kind of mood she was in as it was never predictable. But I knew I needed to go to the doctor for my wrist. She couldn’t be bothered with me. I insisted, told her about the bike accident. She still said no, she would not take me to the doctor. Words were exchanged. I left the living room upset and went downstairs to my bedroom. She was not far behind me. She was really angry. I got on my bed and she came at me. I curled up as best I could and she came at me with her fists. She pounded my thighs, I covered my face. She threw what she could get her hands on at me. Somehow I was able to get up and get out of the bedroom and out of the house. I went to a neighbors house sobbing and needing help.
The neighbor let me in her house, helped me to calm down, and listened to what had just happened. She took me back to my mother’s home and told her that I needed to go the the doctor. My mother argued with her. I heard her tell this neighbor that I had beat her up. What? My neighbor said that she would drive me to the hospital and we could both get checked out. Somehow the next step was in the waiting room at the hospital. My neighbor left me there across the room from the woman who gave me life but just had her fists pounding into my flesh. As we were seen, someone made the comment, “it looks like you two were in a fight.” My mother quickly responded, “yes, she did this to me.”
I can remember the pink cut off sweats I was wearing that day when this all happened. They fell to the length of just on the top of my knees. What I didn’t know that day was that the length of those shorts would keep my mother out of jail for child abuse. Under those shorts were bruises that were about a foot in length by six to ten inches wide. I did not know they were there. No one at the hospital saw them.
I was dischared from ER and spent the night at my neighbors house that night. My mother picked me up from her house in the morning and said only a few words to me as she took me to school. “Heidi, don’t tell anyone I did this to you.” I went to school with a sling on my left arm and a general feeling of shock and disbelief. I still was unaware of the bruises.
After school that day I somehow got home. When I came to the door of my home, my mother greeted me and said, “You are not welcome here.” She then closed the door. I sat at the bus stop at the bottom of my hill for hours. I had my backpack from school. No clothes, no money, no home. There were no cell phones then. I picked up the payphone and called my friend. Her father came and got me. I was able to stay with them for about a month. I had to get the police to escort me to my mother’s home to get some clothes. It was not fun. I called Child protective services and told them what happened. I told them about the bruises I had on my body from her. They told me that I was too old to find a placement and that they couldn’t help me.
This began my journey of life and finding a place to live. Between the ages of 16-18 years old, I lived in over 20 places. People’s couches, parks, and I even lived in someone’s car for a time. I still went to high school. I went through my senior year and made it to February. At that time, I ran out of money on my bus pass. I couldn’t get a job because I needed a permit and my mother wouldn’t talk to me or sign the permit or anything to help me. She did not want the reponsibility of me or anything to do with me.
I think about what I went through then and how I had to have been so strong and determined. I remember knowing I had to go to school to better myself. I knew I needed to finish high school. I learned that from my private school days and the few teachers that beleived in me. I also saw how lack of education affected my mother and I did not want to be like her at all, in any way. But it was very hard to see past a life beyond 18 years old. I had friends who had big dreams of thier weddings and children and careers. I was not sure I would make it to the age of 18 years old. I did not have the dreams of my friends. I was just trying to survive each day. My focus was ever on the present because there was never anything predictable about my future. It was how I had to deal with all that went on. I was on my own. I did not have family, my friends were few and all focused on finishing high school and going on to college. I was very alone. This built me. This time was my foundation of what would come. Every day I tried to do the best I could. I had to, I was all I had.
Quiet Intensity 