unwritten, Timothy Terry [freda ebook reader txt] 📗

of the shortest tempers I have ever seen. Although she was a good teacher she did have quite a temper on her.
I remember I turned in a math paper and she then handed it back to me with markings on it. She told me to correct the ones marked.
I was in a way insulted that she would tell me to correct it. I said no, I want the grade I got. She told me that I will not let you fail.
That wasn't the only time I made her mad. I remember once when Mrs. Powers told me that I need to brush my hair in the morning. I replied “you have no right to tell me what the hell I need to look like, your not perfect”.
That really set her off. She started ranting and raving about respect toward adults and how I lack it. She finally did shut up and gave me a lunch detention.

I didn't dislike all of my teacher's though. My eighth grade creative writing teacher Mrs. Grubbs, who may be one of my favorite teacher's I have ever had.
I always loved writing and she made me discover my gift of putting words together the right way. I remember she was like twenty six and was so sweet. She pretty much let her students get away with everything but maybe murder. She always told me my writing was good and she wasn't like every other writing teacher I had. She didn't just tell us to do the assignment. She really let us be creative with everything we did.
I think she really was the one who helped me discover my true creativeness.

I remember one night at a part my friend asked me if I wanted to smoke with her. I replies okay. I didn't know what she meant. I believed she meant cigarets. That's what you would’ve. Right? Wrong. What she wanted me to smoke was speed. When I took a drag of this “so – called – cigaret” I started to feel sick. A little light headed. It tasted awful. Then everything started to go fast. It was horrible.
I was addicted and I started to smoke on occasion with those friends I had. I was addicted more and more every time.
It felt good. I felt alive.
I remember I started to get it from my friends and bringing it home, hiding it and smoking it. I started to take it in pill form.
I didn't know what the side effects would come later.


I remember once at a party with my friends we where smoking speed and The last thing I remember is I blacked out. My friends told me that “I died” and one of my friends did something to bring me back to life.
It really gave me a scare. I just thought to myself one day, when I was reminiscing about my life why am I doing this to myself? Why am I causing this pain on myself. It's just not fair to me or people who love me. That was the last time I would do any kind of drug. I did speed for about three months.
I thought to myself by doing drugs im waysting my talents.

At that point I said to myself, I will now straiten up and get my life back on track and no more speed, no more getting into trouble. Just love and I will not allow what my brother did ruin my life. That's not my shame or fault. It's his. I will make something of myself.
Just because he did something to me, didn't mean I should have to suffer. I got rid of that group of friends. They where just holding me back.
Finally at that point I realized that it wasn't my fault. What he did wasn't consensual. I said to myself it's time to get better and forget about Chris. Chris is unimportant.

After that I never got into trouble in school again.


7:

For God is no the author of confusiion, but of peace
-l Corinthians 14:33


I think that my faith in god ended far before my accounts of being molested by Chris. I don't know exactly when if I ever believed in god.
I think it ended when “god” didn't save me from my dad. In my mind I thought if god loved me or even cared about me he would have saved me from my dad and stepmother. If god loved me he would have saved me from that monster Chris and if god loved me would never have let those mean boys in school bully and abuse me, if god loved me he would never have let me be gay and be torchured by this world. God didn't love me. At least I thought that.

I think what I really needed was for someone to love me.
I think that the first time I heard god may have beed my freshmen year of school. I didn't have but maybe two or three friends the prior year and I think that I got my real true friend that year. I met one of my best friends, even today Jamie through my other mutual friends, Michelle.
I remember I was walking with my friends Michelle when Jamie came up to Michelle and started talking. Half way through their conversathion Jamie said, Oh! Hello I didn't see you there, hi I'm Jamie. Whats your name? I answered and we got to talking.

She soon found out I was gay and we have been friends since then.
I think that the reason that I felt like I heard god then was that I felt as though my life was unbearable was that god brought me Jamey to me, possibly my real true friend in a long time, if not my only friend I have ever had.

Me and Jamie still talk, about everyday.


Me and my mother moved to Madison Alabama late last year. Moving I think really helped me get out of the depression. I was much happier being near my family.

I know that my brother will never be able to touch me again and that whole part of my life is a blur, but it effected me so much. I still have dreams, about it. Eery year that time of year I go through hell and think about it. Sometimes I wake up at night and scream, from bad dreams.

When people ask me do I ever wish my brother dead or ever wish bad things on him my answer is no. I am at peace at it all. Every bad memory or bad experience, I have come to terms with it. I think when you start excepting that everything you have gone through in life you will be happier.
I think that when my brother molested me that first time a part of me died and a part of my was birthed. I was reborn. Iv been asked me would I ever go and visit my brother. My answer is no, not at this time. Last I checked he is in a mental institution.
I think that I can say I have forgiven my brother, but I could never see him face to face.
I think the first time that I felt like id forgiven him for what he did to me, I remember one night I had been thinking about it. It was November about the time it had happen and I randomly started to cry, hysterically. It had been the first real time I had cried about it. I finally came to terms with my past. I finally said I excepted it all.


It is true what I said in the Prologue of the book, everything I go through, every bump in the road will not bring me down, but will only make me stronger.
When my brother raped me I thought I was going to die. Now I know I can get through anything that life throws at me. Its still unwriten.
Imprint

Publication Date: 03-05-2011

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
Part One of my memoir.