Chapter One: Her Final Decision

Fourteen year old Tiffany Harper wasn’t your average teenage girl. She didn’t worry about what clique she belonged to in her freshman year of high school. It’s kind of hard to be concerned about high school when 60 of the time you couldn’t even make it to class. She wasn’t concerned with the latest fashions, clothes, makeup…none of that concerned Tiffany. What was on her mind was day to day survival, plain and simple.

For most of her early childhood, she went back and forth from foster home back to her mother’s custody. Tiffany never complained, but inside she was terrified. Her mother was never overtly abusive. Tiffany couldn’t recall her mother ever once hitting her. However, she was very neglectful, often leaving Tiffany by herself while she went off and did as she pleased, even when Tiffany was very young. As Tiffany grew older and wiser, at the tender age of 8, she realized that her mother was addicted to drugs. Heroin being her drug of choice, but she often substituted with crack-cocaine and later on, methamphetamines. “Crank” as Tiffany had heard from her street-wise foster brother at her 6th placement.

About 3 years ago, her mother was once again, granted custody of young Tiffany, then 11. She had proven herself able to stay clean for over a year, and then was granted permanent custody with no more visits from the social worker. 2 months after this, Tiffany’s mom met this man named Ralph. Ralph and her mother married about 2 weeks after meeting. Tiffany had this crazy hope that maybe, for once, everything was going to be normal, and she was going to have a happy family.

Things didn’t stay stable for long. Ralph was an alcoholic. He became very abusive to Tiffany’s mother. Having no support, her mother fell back into her own ways, leaving Tiffany for days at a time with her stepfather, then suddenly reappearing looking much worse for wear. At times Tiffany would hear them at night, fighting, her mother yelling...then several loud thumps, then silence and the occasional sobs.

One day, her mother came into her room, and told her that she was leaving. “This time will be different, Tiffany,” she had promised. “I promise. I’ll be back and I’ll be clean, and I’ll take us both away. I’ll get a job, I’ll get some money saved up…”

“Mommy?” Tiffany asked cautiously.

Her mother put her finger to Tiffany’s lips, kissed her forehead and said “Good bye, babe.”

That was 10 long months ago, the last time that Tiffany had seen her mother. Now that her mother had left her, she was the one that faced Ralph’s drunken wrath. She lived with the reality that anything could happen, at any time. Most of those times, he punished her, for the smallest of transgressions. Something she learned through all this was to never waste time thinking about the future or past. Live for the moment.

She did everything she could to stay out of his way. Tiffany would stay pent up in her room. When she felt that things were getting too dangerous, she would go “for a walk,” often leaving for hours at a time. And the hope, however faint and pathetic, that her mother would really return, kept Tiffany chained to the sadistic whims of her brutish stepfather.

Often, Tiffany felt that if she was just nice enough to him…if she just placated him, that maybe it would stop. However, most of the time, she couldn’t predict what was going to happen. Ralph’s moods changed at any given second. The fateful moment came, around 11:00, on a Saturday morning. Tiffany sat in the middle of the floor, sewing a patch in Ralph’s jeans. “Where the hell is my fucking belt?” he stormed, “Do you know why I want my belt?”

She flinched, and her heart leapt into her chest. Trembling, Tiffany shook her head no, but she knew very well what was happening. “I’m going to knock the shit out of you! This time, I’ll kill you!” he growled, sending chills of dread down Tiffany’s spine.

Tiffany looked up at him…she didn’t doubt him at all, and as she peeked up into his eyes, the wild fury radiating there did not catch her off guard in the slightest. One thing she had learned in the ten months since her mother left them. Anything could happen. She had learned something that her mother had never seemed to learn. Keep your mouth shut. Don’t talk back. She wondered where her mother was right now and what she was doing. Tiffany caught herself also wondering what she had done to deserve this fierce onslaught. Tiffany knew she shouldn’t ask. Despite anything that would happen, she decided to ask anyway.

“What . . . what did I do?” she whimpered weakly.

“What did you do? You’re still here! Why didn’t you go with your slut mother?” he bellowed.

Tiffany had had enough. There was only so much a person could take and she was at the end of her rope. Tiffany shot back angrily, “I would have loved to! I’d rather be with her, but I’m stuck here with you!”

He said nothing, but turned slowly away from her. Tiffany was instantly sorry about what she said. She did know she would pay for that moment, but she also felt a genuine regret that she may have possibly hurt him. She hated losing her temper. It went against her mild nature, her tender heart despite everything that she had been through in her young life. Snapping at people made her feel uncomfortable in her own skin. She knew also that it would be better to say nothing at all…but the guilt she felt wouldn’t let her be. She decided to apologize anyway.

“I’m sorry, Ralph!” she whispered timidly putting her hand on his shoulder, “I didn’t mean it.”

“Get your hand off me!” he snapped viciously.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“You’re not sorry, you little fuck! You just want to save your scrawny, worthless little ass!” he snapped, taking a fistful of her hair and pushing her to her knees.

Without any warning, he punched her full force in the jaw. She cried out, more in fear than pain. He shook her and threw her brutally to the floor, cussing furiously. How do I get into these messes? Tiffany thought before a swift kick in the head made it all go black

She awoke in her room, her entire body aching. Groaning, she painstakingly sat up. “Boy, what a day,” she muttered. A quick glance at the clock revealed it was 2:30. Slowly, the realization hit her. The last thing she remembered, it was 11:00! Ralph had knocked her unconscious!

For the first time since her mother left, Tiffany felt genuine fear race through her. Tiffany had never felt so overwhelmingly alone, and there were so few choices for her! If she didn’t leave, he would end up killing her! Her head throbbed as she limped over to the mirror. She let out a startled yelp.

She could barely recognize herself! There was a huge bruise on her cheek. She had two huge black eyes and her upper lip was cracked open. Several bruises and scratches lacerated her arms. He hit me after I passed out! I don’t remember anything like this, she thought frantically.

A bitter smile formed on her badly swollen lips, and she winced. She knew what she had to do. Leave . . . it was that plain and clear. Tiffany sighed. She really felt reluctant to leave. He could be nice sometimes, especially right after breakfast. He would tease her about her runny eggs and “cremated” toast, but eat it nonetheless in a good-natured way. However, these moments were rare and brief, and he was becoming more violent each day. Sighing, she slowly picked up a piece of paper and wrote:

Ralph,

I am leaving now and I will never come back. It’s what you want, isn’t it? I’m not mad at you. I’m not the type of person who gets mad. I am sorry for leaving & I wish I could stay, but I don’t want to die. I am afraid you will kill me. Maybe Mom was afraid, too. I’m sorry!

Tiffany

She really didn’t want to go back to foster care. The thought frightened her as really nothing else could. Once she got used to a place, she was taken away again and put somewhere else. Tiffany knew that this wasn’t an ideal situation, but it felt more permanent. It felt like home. Tears filled her eyes as she folded the letter. Why did it have to come to this? She kept telling herself that she wasn’t going to cry. Crying would only weaken her resolve, and it would keep her here longer. She purposely blocked her thoughts, shutting down her tears. While she was thinking this over, the door opened a crack. Hurriedly, she lay back down and pretended to be asleep.

“Tiffany, I know you’re awake,” he said as she cringed. Nervously, she put her hands over her head. “Sit up, girl, I won’t hurt you!” he snarled gruffly.

Tiffany obeyed reluctantly, sitting up at the edge of her bed. Her note was carefully concealed behind her. “Are you OK?” he asked. “I didn’t mean it . . . really . . . I didn’t mean it about wanting you to leave.” he said with an unusual amount of softness.

Tiffany said nothing and responded in no way. He reached down and touched her bare leg. He had never done this before, and it startled her. She peeked up as his face, and there was a weird smile. His eyes were roving the length of her body; his eyes had an unfamiliar gleam. An unspoken need shone there, and she felt her stomach clench, like the hurried breakfast she had ingested this morning would come up all over his dirty, beer stained clothes. That would wipe that look of undisguised lust right off his face.

“Please?” Tiffany whimpered softly, now completely using his guilt over what had happened to her advantage, “Just let me sleep. I need to sleep.”

“I’m going to Conies,” he said, shaking his head quickly, and abruptly left. Conies was a bar he went to every day or two. Tiffany felt like jumping for joy. He was giving her the perfect opportunity!

After she heard the front door slam, she jumped up in triumph. Her body ached in protest. Undaunted, she headed straight for the living room closet and got out a denim jacket. Then she merely walked out the back door. Was she thinking about all the bad things that could happen? Was she thinking about the future? No, she wasn’t.

She couldn’t get that look he had in his eyes out of her head. The way his eyes traveled over her body…the way his hand had rested on her leg.. Tiffany finally had to almost physically (by smacking herself on her already pounding head) block out that horrible image also. Better to hurt her own head again than to lose what little she had eaten for breakfast earlier that morning. Her body pulsed with pain with each step she took, yet she knew that it was a step away from certain death…or worse.

For six hours, Tiffany endured this, never even stopping for a rest. She had walked twenty miles from her native Winchester. Every muscle in her frail body throbbed in agony, but there was nothing she could do…nothing at all. Little Tiffany was often the victim of circumstance, of things beyond her control. Tiffany knew that she had to leave. Ralph didn’t seem the type of man to take any kind of “no” for an answer. Tiffany could almost feel her abused body screaming for her, the pain she had never expressed in words to anybody.

It was 8:00 p.m. It was fast becoming dark. She saw a large wooded area and she decided to go there, where it seemed safe. She was sure that no one else slept in the woods. She had to find somewhere safe. It took her five minutes to get completely lost in the woods. Where would she sleep?

A few minutes later, she stumbled across a dirty, ragged blanket. “Better than nothing,” she said aloud to herself. Even she was surprised at how weak and shivery her voice sounded. Tiffany sighed and lay down on the blanket. Despite the hard stony ground with little protection from the blanket, she fell asleep almost immediately. She slept peacefully for the first time since the night before her mother had waken her up with her empty promises.

During the night, she awoke to the sound of a gasp. Groggily, she opened her eyes and sat up. Tiffany felt a chill run through her. Was someone beside her? Was it Ralph? She looked around and thought she saw someone back away. “Who’s there?” she cried shrilly. There was no answer, and she looked around with groggy, sleep blinded eyes in the darkness. There was no sound. Must’ve been the wind, she thought with a yawn. Or a dream…yes, a bad dream.

As she lay back down, she thought she heard a soft, husky voice say, “Lie back down, little goddess. I won’t hurt you.” She bolted up quickly and looked around again, but saw nothing. I must be dreaming, she thought drowsily as she fell surprisingly effortlessly back to sleep.

The next day, Tiffany woke with a strange feeling. She could feel the hair on her neck slowly rise and she went rigid in alarm. When she opened her eyes, she discovered a huge, brown dusty coat draped gently over her. She could feel someone’s eyes, watching her. Her heart, which had began pounding in her chest, now leapt into her throat .Tiffany sat up and what she saw made her heart stop. A man, muscular and bulky, lay close to her, gazing down at her.