Sad Dream & Story time-Part One

A quick mention of my dream last night that made me feel a little depressed at work today.  I had a dream that Dipak showed up with roses. He was standing in the gown room looking into the clean room at me waiting to get my attention. He finally did and  I ran out crying and we made up.  Then he officially asked me out on a date.  It was romantic, and of course…just a dream.  Still didn’t stop me from looking towards the door every once in a while.


I’m going to randomly start writing  stories about myself.  Just random things that have happened from my past that I feel like sharing.  Since nobody knows me, I’m not afraid to be judged.

First off.  I moved to Red Cliff Reservation when I was 11 years old.  My parents had finally had enough of the physical and emotional abuse.  My dad with his drugs and alcohol.  My mom with her online gambling and chatting.  It was too much for either of them to deal with anymore.

I remember the last big fight.  I woke up to my mother yelling.  I came downstairs and my mom was shutting the door on my dad’s arm.  I could smell the alcohol coming off of him and see the bruises starting to form on both of their arms. I started crying.  I was only 10.  Soon after, my older sister (13 at the time)  came down and stood next to me.  She started crying.  We both kept screaming “stop, stop hurting each other”  but they just kept going.

My dad finally managed to push my mom out of the way.  She screamed at me to call my grandpa, but as soon as I got the phone in my hand my dad ripped the cord out of the wall.

The fight moved into the living room.  My sister and I were terrified that someone was going to get seriously hurt.  I was desperate…and ten let me remind you.  I went and filled up a cup of water and threw it at them.  Didn’t really get them wet, but it was enough for my mom to notice.  I think she saw the looks on our faces and knew something had to change.  She let my dad go upstairs to pass out.

Not too long after that they gave us the choice, which parent do we want to live with.  I failed to mention that I had an infant younger sister, Dria, at the time…I couldn’t part with her.  I was so attached.  I chose to go with my mom and Dria.

That all leads to more stories, for another time.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s