A Teenagers Secret Behind Closed Doors

On 12/27/1981 at 3:30 am, a cold and winter day, I, aka Dimples, was born. On that day, it was the beginning of my journey. From what I was told, I was a happy baby. My Grandmother would hand make me clothing and I would run around the house, as if I had no worries or cares. Dimples is what my family called me, due to the deep indentations on my checks. Boy were they the good ole days. As time passed, certain s**t began happening. I didn't know why s**t began happening, but I was too young to understand. All I did know was that life was starting to be my reality. It was me, my mom (Mary), and my little sister (Fatimah). We were living in a clubhouse on 58th and Market Street. My mom's husband was a member of a motorcycle club, called the Wheels of Souls. I knew my mom had to love her husband living in a clubhouse, but damn did they party together like wild animals. I used to listen to the parties that were going on at the clubhouse, wishing damn I wanted to go and party with them at the age of 5. Mom would bring Fatimah and myself food and snacks in the area where we stayed in the clubhouse. Mom would return to the party, but before returning, mom would always say, "love both of you and do not come out of the room." Mom would leave and lock the door behind her. I really do not know why our stay was short at the clubhouse, but we were not there for long. The members at the clubhouse took care of us, as if we were their children. Fatimah and I were so loved. Mom ended up moving in with my grandparents, aunts, and cousins in Williamstown, NJ. My family used to call that house the big red house, down the dirt road. When you walked in the red house, you would think you were in a mini mansion. s**t coming from a clubhouse to a house like this, I thought my grandparents were f*****g rich. What house has a Jacuzzi Hot Tub in the master bedroom? Well they did! I would always think, why did mom never want to stay with my grandparents? My mom claims she was the black sheep of the family, due to her complexion. My mom was dark skinned, with long black hair, wore bi-focus glasses, and feels she just never fit in with the family, due to them being light skinned. My mom used to tell me stories of my grandfather not really being her father, and that my grandmother was color stricken, but I did not listen to what mom was saying. Apparently, mom ran away from my grandparents' home when she was pregnant with me and went to Philly, marrying Tim Sr., who I thought was my father. Since then, my mom has always been criticized by her parents and siblings. Living at my grandparents' home felt different. There were no more parties, no more staying up late, and no more feeling loved by an entire family. We were all used to staying in 1 bedroom, and to say, my mom was pregnant with my little brother. My grandfather was something different. The whole family feared him, including my mother. Everything was centered around him, and I was wondering why? He would leave for work early in the morning, arrive back home around noon, while my grandmother would be watching the young and the restless. He would eat his lunch and sit in his recliner chair, which was his chair. Everyone knew not to sit in his chair or there were going to be consequences. I never questioned it, I just felt in line with everybody else. This one particular day, I realized why my aunts, cousins, and mom were afraid of Storm, whom they called my grandfather. We are all outside playing. I was riding a tricycle bicycle down the dirt road, and my mom yelled at me not to go too far down the dirt road, but me being hard-headed, I kept going. I turned around when I wanted to. When I arrived back at the house, my grandfather asked me," Dimpled? Did you hear what your mother was saying? I replied, yes, grandpop, he said to get ready for your shower. I skipped into the house, not having a clue about what was about to happen. I turned the shower water on and got in the shower. I heard the door open. I said, "I am in the shower." My grandfather said" I know", and repeated the question that he asked me before I went in the house to take a shower. He said, "Did you hear your mother calling you?" I said yes. Storm tore my ass up while I was wet in the shower. I never had a beating in my life. Mom was a yeller not a beater. Now I see why nobody played with him! My mom was upset, but she could not say anything. After that, I have seen my grandfather fight my 2 aunts and my mom, while she was pregnant. I used to be like how the f**k they get beat by their father, and they are grown. Again, too young to understand what was going on. Mom had my little brother Tim Jr. At that point, mom's husband was in the city trying to get used to a place, so we could be together again. I was ready to go, but I wasn't. I was really confused. Mom was doing well while with my grandparents. That is ultimately why I wanted to stay, but when mom was in Philadelphia, she was different. I couldn't explain the difference between mom, she was just different. I had good times at Red House and bad times as well. The beating was no fun at all. I got introduced to the belt as well as the back stratcher. Sometimes, I look back now, I was a mess. It was one time, my cousin Linda. I think she couldn't stand me. Linda would always fight me. One day we were playing, and I don't know how I ended up on the floor, but Linda kicked me in my ass. It was not hard, but I fed into what my grandmother yelled. Grandmom yelled at Linda, saying you could have hurt Dimples by kicking her. If you hurt her, I am going to whoop your tail. Grandmom would never curse, due to her being Pentecostal, so Linda states, she did not kick me hard. All I heard from my grandmother was, "whoop and tail" (laughing so hard under my breath). I wanted to see Linda get beat, so I started crying. Linda got beat. I was hollering on the inside, trying to hide my face. Linda was crying that I was faking, and I really was laughing out loud to myself. Linda was bigger than me and always messing with me and my sister. To see Linda get beat, I was excited. Mom and grandmom took me to the hospital. My mom was saying, "Dimples, stop playing, you are always playing. If nobody knew me, mom did. Mom said, Dimples, I am going to get you some cookies if you get up off this table and walk. I got my ass up off that table and walked. Mom was laughing so hard. I felt that miracle: after that my cousin did not play with me or talk to me anymore, because I got her in trouble. To say less, I started making up things to get attention from my grandparents. Living in the Red House came to an end. Mom, myself, and my siblings moved back to Philly into our own apartment.