I can’t remember any of my childhood days except for Kindergraden and maybe first grade.  Everything else is like a blury memory. The physical and mental abuse had me traumatized. I would not wish this type of child abuse on any child. I had no one to turn to even though I had a mom and her family, a stepfather and his family but still I felt alone. I remember a picture of a girl hanging on my wall.  She looked like a hoeboe. She was my friend and I would talk to her every day. But at night because it was dark and I could not see her face; I felt alone and scared.  I used to look up at the stars every night and I knew I was being watched by angels. For some reason I felt that I was being protected by them.  I use to sing myself to sleep. I would sing church songs that I had remembered from Sunday school. One of the songs were, "No not one, no not one, Jesus knows all about our struggles," and I remembered singing  that reverse over and over again. Because this was what I believed.  I had a tea set and I would play church.  I would have my cracker in a napkin broken into pieces and grape juice in my tea pot.  The pieces of the crackers I knew represented the body of Christ and the grape juice was for his blood. Every Sunday I played Church even if we did not attend service. I played alone because my sister was giving the most attention by our mother.  She did not spend much time with me.  I had no one to check my home work. Pretty much I was on my own.  I got my clothes from a second hand store and my sister got new clothes. I remember only having one pair of shoes for the school year. I remember my mother would ask her husband for money to buy me shoes, and his reply was "Is she going to pay me back, I’m not buying her nothing." So it was nothing that I got until she got money herself to buy me shoes. She would never go to school meeting or check on the progress of my school work. She just did not care I guest.  She would fix my hair some days very ugly and I would go to school and cry and tell the nurse that I was not feeling good.  So they would send me home.  As I was walking down the street, I could see her on the porch looking for me to come to the house.  When I got home she would put me on punishment because she would be mad at me for coming home. She would not let me come out of my room. I could only go to the bathroom and to eat dinner. I remember just sitting in my room talking to my friend on my wall.