As time wore on and the grueling work hours become longer and harder I started developing a way to keep my mind occupied while my body did work. As I was pushing the lawnmower or digging holes for plants, I imagined I was a superhero that was just waiting for the right moment to spring out into the world. Everyday in my mind I become faster and stronger, doing great deeds in the world. I wasn�t just a kid who worked like a slave because I was afraid of getting beat anymore. When Mr. Hawkins would come home at night, I learned to not show how tired I was, or how used to the labor I had become. It wasn�t about doing a good job and even though I was 10 years old and only in the 5th grade, I knew that to show that I wasn�t working hard was like blasphemy in the house. Since I couldn�t do anything at home, school became my way out of everything. In school I did my best to get the attention of my classmates and worked hard to earn a reputation that would make people recognize me. When I say I did my best, I don�t mean I developed the best spelling skills, or I could memorize everything the teacher showed the class. I didn�t even do schoolwork. I fought with people, became the class clown, I did everything for people to recognize me because I didn�t want to be just another kid. When the teacher sent home progress reports and I learned that she reported everything to Mrs. Hawkins, I quickly learned to say the teacher didn�t give out progress reports. And when we had to turn in the signed progress reports, I became an expert in forging Mrs. Hawkins name.
The game went unnoticed for awhile until Mrs. Hawkins came in for parent teacher conferences. I sat outside the classroom that Wednesday evening and prayed that Mrs. Barret wouldn�t pull out the signed progress reports. I strained my ears, trying in vain to hear anything that would signal me to run. Mrs. Hawkins didn�t say anything in the van or until after dinner was eaten. Figuring I was out of danger I started to relax until I realized Mrs. Hawkins was just poking at her food. I had become adept at picking up signals from people and that�s when I knew that I was in more trouble than I had ever been. Mrs. Hawkins excused Jonathon and Jessica from the table and asked me to stay. I became frozen, an unsettling cold came over me and fear set in like an arrow. She closed the doors to the kitchen and sat back in her chair and proceeded to tell Mr. Hawkins everything. She told him about how embarrassing it was that the teacher had to show her that I forged the progress reports. How conniving I was, and how I didn�t deserve to sit in front of her. I focused on a spot on the wall and out of the corner of my eye I watched Mr. Hawkins hands. He stood up quietly and put his hand on my shoulder and said, �You messed up bad this time boy.� For the first time I could ever remember I started crying. I wasn�t crying because I was sorry, I was crying because I feared for what was coming. But when nothing happened I looked up, Mr. Hawkins was walking away! What was going on? Fear started to ebb and confusion set in. I went to bed early that night, and I had a good nights sleep. I woke up to Mr. Hawkins standing in front of the bed telling me to wake up. It was still dark outside and cold, but Mr. Hawkins told me to go to the garage and wait for him. After 10 minutes, Mr. Hawkins walked in and my heart stopped. I felt like I couldn�t breathe as I watched him put two phone cords on the floor and then take off his belt. He told me to drop my pants and turn around and grab my toes. I started begging and crying and saying I was sorry and he just smacked me with the belt all the while yelling, �Turn around!� He picked up the phone cord, folded it in half and whipped me with it. I stopped feeling pain after about 10 minutes as numbness set in. He alternated between the belt and phone cord until I finally collapsed. Even then he whipped my back like a slave with the phone cord until finally I could see no more�
I was unable to sit comfortably for a week. School was hard to concentrate on. I hated my teacher and I ignored everyone. I started developing a plan in my mind about payback. My survival instinct kicked in full force and I silently declared war with the world. It was not about living anymore, it was about making Mr. Hawkins and Mrs. Hawkins life a living hell. I got home one day and took about two hundred dollars out of Mrs. Hawkins purse. When I was working in the field I hid it under a shrub and continued with my plan. Anger unlike anything I had ever felt was the only thing driving me at this point. My plan was to break all the windows in the house and vans and run away and never have to deal with the Hawkins again. But once again, Mr. Hawkins interfered. Once he found out the two hundred dollars was gone he grabbed the back of my head smashed my forehead into the beige carpet. He started to rub my forehead back and forth on the carpet. At first the pain was intolerable as my skin started to be rubbed off and I started kicking Mrs. Hawkins but his grip was too strong. Picking me up by the throat he threw me back on the ground and asked me where the money was. I croaked out, �The bushes�, and he pushed me on the balcony in the thunder and lightning and told me not to come back until I had it. I ran into the backyard and grabbed the money and started to go back towards the house, and then I stopped and decided I was through. I turned my back to the house and walked into the woods in the lightning and thunder and rain. I walked around for hours, the adrenaline in my body began to fade and fear of being lost set in. I walked around and around until I came out of the woods some time later. I walked up to a house and rang the doorbell. I rang the doorbell for about ten minutes before someone came to the front of the door. He took one look at me and made me drink some water while he called 911. The police took me back to the Hawkins and all emotion left my body when we pulled into the driveway. I was ready to quit, and at that point I hated God for everything. Mr. Hawkins made me live in the shed away from the family. Mrs. Hawkins picked out my clothes before school and left them on the porch for me to get. A bar of soap and a wash clothe was in a bucket for me and I filled the bucket with water and washed myself with the cold water in the shed. I lived like that for a while until finally I was allowed back in the house. But things would never be the same again for anyone.
Over the course of the next two years, I went though 5th and 6th grade. I worked like usual around the house, wary of my every move. Occasionally I screwed up and was given a whooping. But by then I no longer cared about anything. I walked around and it was as if I was outside of myself. I no longer took solace in school; I didn�t have foolish dreams of being superman anymore. There was nothing to live for anymore. I went through countless therapy sessions, and all I did was play games with the counselor. Counselors didn�t want to believe what I told them and after one counselor told Mrs. Hawkins that I told her I had gotten beaten often, any attempt at trusting the counselors was gone. There was no one to turn to. I was robbed of everything as a pre-teen. How can you explain feeling so low about yourself that I actually felt like walking in front of a school bus one day? Counselors always said I was in need of attention all the time and didn�t do a damn thing to help me. How can you explain being 12 years old and wanting nothing more than life to be over with?