#6 Christmas from Hell

Soon it was 10th grade and Christmas time. I'd spent the previous Christmas with my mother, but this year that wasn't an option. The plan was I had to go to my father's house. But I had spoken to my real mother a few weeks before. I had told her what was going on, that my father was trying to take me away from where I was living. I needed her to come back home and get custody of me back so that I could stay with my new parents. And she did. She moved in with my oldest sister and the court date was set for the second week in January. I can't remember when my father found out she was back. I never told him until he got the court papers. But I know he knew shortly before Christmas. And I know he was furious. He was determined that my mother would never get custody of me back. He was going to keep me, no matter what. There would be no living with my mother, and there would be no living with my new parents. His house was my "home". He was my father. He had custody. He could make me do whatever he wanted.
And so my new parents dropped me off at his house early Christmas morning. I went inside, and my father and his new girlfriend weren't there.
I waited and waited, and by 5pm, they still weren't home. So I called my new parents. I didn't want to spend my Christmas alone. But they had plans, and they knew I would get in trouble if I just left my father's house. So they were pretty reluctant to come get me. Looking back now, I understand why. But at the time, I thought maybe they didn't love me after all. Maybe they didn't want me anymore. Maybe I was more than they could handle. I broke down. I felt so very alone. And so I cut myself. I wanted to die. I tried to cut myself as deep as I could. But I just couldn't do it. I wanted to die, yet I was afraid of death.
My new parents called to say they were on their way to get me. And I was so glad I hadn't killed myself. They wanted me. And they were coming to save me.
On the way home, my new mom asked me once again if my father had ever abused me. I finally admitted it. I'm not sure why I chose this time to finally tell someone. It just kind of came out.
Apparently at some point my father finally went home and saw I wasn't there. I was at home, spending time with my new parents, watching tv and chatting. At 1am, we saw a police car pull up in our driveway, followed by my father. I was told to stay inside, and they went out to find out what was going on. Soon I heard yelling. My new dad had lost his temper. He was screaming at my father that he was just the perfect father, father of the fucking year, he should get his own mug. It was kind of funny, but overall, really scary. I got scared that he would hit my father. I ran to my bedroom to hide, and of course to cut.
I made it quick, I covered it up, and went back to sit on the couch and find out what was going on.
The officer came in with my new parents, and said that he was sorry, he had no choice. He knew he was taking me out of a good situation and putting me into a much worse one, but since my father had legal custody of me, I had to go. I told him I would just run away. He said he knew I probably would, but until I actually did, he had to follow the law. He said he loved his job when he knew he was helping children who needed to be helped, but that this was a time when the law was very wrong and that he hated to do this to me.
And so I got in the car with my father and went back to his house. I didn't speak to him. I sat in the back seat crying the whole way. I was texting my new mom, telling her I didn't want to go, I couldn't handle this. My father told me to hand over my cell phone and I refused. I told him he had never done anything good for me, it wasn't him who got me the cell phone anyway. My new parents had gotten it for me. They had gotten me everything I needed for months. All he ever did was ruin things. And then he dropped the bomb. I wasn't just coming for Christmas. I was staying. After winter break was over, he was going to enroll me back into my old school district. He was never going to let me stay with my new parents again.
When we got back to my father's house, he went to bed. I hid in my room and called my new mom. I told her I couldn't handle this, and that if I was going to have to live with my father, I was going to kill myself. She told me I only had 2 weeks until our court hearing when my mother could get custody of me back. I said I couldn't survive here for 2 weeks. I couldn't take it. And I was serious, I was going to kill myself. I told her I'm sorry and I love you, but if I have to live her, I don't want to live anymore. She told me just to hang on until tomorrow. She would find a way to get me out of there. She said to let her make some phone calls and she would call me back.
I cried and cried and cut myself for 2 hours. And then she called me back. She said that the police would be there soon to pick me up and take me to the hospital if I was seriously going to kill myself. And I told her I was serious. About 10 minutes later the police showed up.
My father had a dead bolt that had to be unlocked with a key on both sides. And of course, I didn't have a key. I was locked in. I couldn't even get outside to the police who were there to help me. There were huge sheets of plywood blocking the back door. I moved them and went out the back. This woke my father up who came charging out after me to see what was going on. I went straight to the first officer I saw and was put into the front seat of a cop car. I'm not sure what my father was told or what he said back to the officer. But he went back inside. The cop then came and asked me if I was really going to kill myself. And I told him that if I had to stay here a minute longer, I would.
And so I was taken to the hospital. The cop who drove me was an ex boyfriend of my oldest sister. He knew what my father was like, and knew what he had done to my mother and my sister's friend. He didn't know about the other women, or me, but he knew my father was an ass and was glad to be getting me out of there.
The time spent at the hospital was a blur. But soon I was taken to another hospital in the state capital city, and put into the adolescent psych ward. And there I stayed for 2 weeks, until the court case for custody. While I was there, I finally told them about my father molesting me. They started a DSS investigation. The investigation came up unfounded months later, but I was expecting that. I'd never told anyone before then, and they never did a physical exam on me. This was also when they started me on some medication to help me sleep, because I had been having flashbacks to my father abusing me.
While there, I wasn't supposed to have any contact with my new parents. My father would call me, and I always refused to speak to him. The therapist I had been assigned was an ass, and even though he knew my father had been abusing me, he said he wouldn't release me from the hospital if I kept refusing to speak to my father. I mean, really, what good was that going to do? To send me into another flashback when I heard his voice, and be triggered to hurt myself even worse? Stupid asshole.
But I remember when my new parents brought me clothes and some shower stuff, every time I would put on a new pair of pants, I would find little notes in the pockets from them. This was not allowed. I'm not sure if the nurses who do the bag checks just didn't realize there was paper in the pockets, or if they read them and decided to let them stay, because they knew my new parents weren't the problem. They were always notes about how much they loved me, Bible verses, or encouraging me to keep my head up, be honest, work on myself, and not worry about what would happen when I left here, because they would handle it and do anything they had to do to protect me. It was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for me.
I was released the morning of the court date, and allowed to ride with my mother to the court house. I told her exactly what I wanted. I wanted nothing to do with my father ever again. I did not even want him to have visitation. But that I did not want to live with her and my sister. I wanted to stay with my new parents. I didn't want anyone taking me away from them. I didn't want to change schools, I didn't want to move, and I didn't want to give up my new life where I was finally happy.
And so after talking with the judge, my father signed over all parental rights. He was out of my life. He was no longer my father, and I felt such a weight lifted off my shoulders. My mother was given custody of me, but my new parents were granted guardianship so that I could stay with them and go to school. I'd never been so happy before.
But of course, good things don't always last forever.