Biographical Non-Fiction posted October 28, 2023 | Chapters: | ...37 38 -39- 40... |
Connecting the dots
A chapter in the book Ghost
Aftershock
by Lea Tonin1
The author has placed a warning on this post for language.
"You are no longer my daughter. Fuck off! I've had enough of this"
This is my mother...as it was...as it is...as it will be.
She doesn't like me writing. She doesn't like me talking. She doesn't like me knowing.
Soon messages will come. Soon those who would try to shame me will come followed by those who would perpetuate the lie.
The lie that spanned
generations.
*****************************
"Snap out of it! You knew when you opened that can of worms, there would be more than one worm in it!"
That went through my mind as I tried to slow the paranoia and panic slamming doors in my head. Slowly my heart and my breathing returned to normal as I tried to re-order my thoughts. Attempting to untangle the mystery of what's going on.
I began with step one about what's known. So far I have a sort of who's who. Will there be a path to follow? I don't know...
I know this, it's time to line up more clues and see how the cookie crumbles.
Step two
Girl 15 oldest child. The name changed three times. Two identities per change for a total of six changes. Currently uses one of the aliases as permanent ID. 90lbs, ill, rundown upon arrival.
Girl 14 middle child. Name change three times no double identity for a total of three changes. Currently uses legal identity as permanent ID. 89lbs, ill, rundown upon arrival. Required hospital care denied.
Girl 10 youngest child. No name changes. Her natural father removed her from the home at age five.
Environmental conditions - girls lived in the attic. Cots for beds, little else. Living restricted and in isolation.
Parents did not attend school functions of any kind or have an interchange with any officials. Upon the oldest girl reaching high school age requiring her to leave the island, relocation commenced to another area of semi-isolation surrounded by forest.
Systematic premeditative conditioning both mental and physical began in preschool years.
I'm looking at what I've written. I know that the answer is in there somewhere but I needed another clue. It made no sense to me that someone could hate children so much. I wondered what it was that we did so bad as to cause such hatred, such pain and such loneliness. Confusion, that's what my life has been at its best...confusion. When Despair comes it drags down the soul and takes away the will to move forward. I open my bedroom door with a crack. I can see my grandparents each in their respective, chairs. Oma is talking to Opa in Dutch. Opa is Poo pooing waving his hand as if to blow off whatever it was she said.
After lining up all the clues, I could see there was a pattern.
Do you dear reader? Do you see the pattern that I see?
A round and round Hell Ferris wheel turns clanking and screeching with each revolution.
Very soon, an important clue will come my way. Understanding a large chunk of clues began to make sense.
But it comes from an unlikely place. It comes from the end of a rolled-up newspaper.
*****************************
It all seems so real now. I'm moving forward at a break neck speed.
Now the hammer begins to fall like I knew it would. I have protected myself in such a way that they cannot interfere with my employment or my means of supporting myself.
Every day I ask myself two questions. Did I do the best I can? Is there anything more I can do?
If the answers are yes and no, I must be a like a duck and let it all roll off.
"You are no longer my daughter. Fuck off! I've had enough of this"
This is my mother...as it was...as it is...as it will be.
She doesn't like me writing. She doesn't like me talking. She doesn't like me knowing.
Soon messages will come. Soon those who would try to shame me will come followed by those who would perpetuate the lie.
The lie that spanned
generations.
*****************************
"Snap out of it! You knew when you opened that can of worms, there would be more than one worm in it!"
That went through my mind as I tried to slow the paranoia and panic slamming doors in my head. Slowly my heart and my breathing returned to normal as I tried to re-order my thoughts. Attempting to untangle the mystery of what's going on.
I began with step one about what's known. So far I have a sort of who's who. Will there be a path to follow? I don't know...
I know this, it's time to line up more clues and see how the cookie crumbles.
Step two
Girl 15 oldest child. The name changed three times. Two identities per change for a total of six changes. Currently uses one of the aliases as permanent ID. 90lbs, ill, rundown upon arrival.
Girl 14 middle child. Name change three times no double identity for a total of three changes. Currently uses legal identity as permanent ID. 89lbs, ill, rundown upon arrival. Required hospital care denied.
Girl 10 youngest child. No name changes. Her natural father removed her from the home at age five.
Environmental conditions - girls lived in the attic. Cots for beds, little else. Living restricted and in isolation.
Parents did not attend school functions of any kind or have an interchange with any officials. Upon the oldest girl reaching high school age requiring her to leave the island, relocation commenced to another area of semi-isolation surrounded by forest.
Systematic premeditative conditioning both mental and physical began in preschool years.
I'm looking at what I've written. I know that the answer is in there somewhere but I needed another clue. It made no sense to me that someone could hate children so much. I wondered what it was that we did so bad as to cause such hatred, such pain and such loneliness. Confusion, that's what my life has been at its best...confusion. When Despair comes it drags down the soul and takes away the will to move forward. I open my bedroom door with a crack. I can see my grandparents each in their respective, chairs. Oma is talking to Opa in Dutch. Opa is Poo pooing waving his hand as if to blow off whatever it was she said.
After lining up all the clues, I could see there was a pattern.
Do you dear reader? Do you see the pattern that I see?
A round and round Hell Ferris wheel turns clanking and screeching with each revolution.
Very soon, an important clue will come my way. Understanding a large chunk of clues began to make sense.
But it comes from an unlikely place. It comes from the end of a rolled-up newspaper.
*****************************
It all seems so real now. I'm moving forward at a break neck speed.
Now the hammer begins to fall like I knew it would. I have protected myself in such a way that they cannot interfere with my employment or my means of supporting myself.
Every day I ask myself two questions. Did I do the best I can? Is there anything more I can do?
If the answers are yes and no, I must be a like a duck and let it all roll off.
There is a difference between what is known now and what was known then. My 15 year old self registered the strange and cruel things that went on, but didn't connect the dots until much later.
I've lain out some of what's known now.
If you wish, there are other chapters in an auto bio called "Ghost" in my portfolio. You are all welcome to read should you wish. One note of caution. Some chapters are hard to read. Reader discretion is advised.
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. I've lain out some of what's known now.
If you wish, there are other chapters in an auto bio called "Ghost" in my portfolio. You are all welcome to read should you wish. One note of caution. Some chapters are hard to read. Reader discretion is advised.
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