16 till 18 years old.

I am now sixteen years old and still seeing my future husband. Going to school and back home and taking care of my siblings, who by then were pains in my ass. My brother was twelve, my middle sister was ten, and my baby sister was eight. My mother babied her so much I was still making her cereal in the morning because she couldn't do it herself. I'm like, I was washing dishes and clothes at her age. I'm sure she can make herself cereal. I needed to show this little girl how to do things independently. So I started showing her how to pour her cereal and milk and wash dishes and her clothes. She started doing everything on her own in a couple of months. I was happy because I had to do most of the household chores. Then there were my other siblings.

My brother only had to remove the garbage, keep his room clean, and mow the lawn. My middle sister had to keep her and my little sister's room clean, and she dusted and vacuumed the living room and did her laundry. So my chores were to clean the kitchen, bathroom, my room, and laundry for myself and wash towels, sheets, and blankets. It irritated me that my brother didn't even have to clean his room or do his laundry. My mom did his laundry, and she picked up his room. She told me to clean it one day, and I said no way. He can do that himself. My mom, with four kids and growing up, was a crazy nut when it came to cleaning the house.

Every Sunday, I had to wipe down walls and clean baseboards. She would go nuts if I were done in thirty minutes or less. You couldn't vacuum in less than fifteen to twenty minutes, and it had to be up and down, or she went ballistic. My mom was taking diet pills at the time, and they made her extra mean. She wasn't hitting anyone, just screaming at everyone especially when she ran out of them. We hated it, so I hid them from her, and she went psycho on me. I returned them to her and explained that she was evil when on them and had to stop taking them.

She told me she was the adult and I was the child, so I should never hide them again. I didn't, but the thing was, I wasn't on any meds anymore and haven't been on them for a while. I was angry, so that night, as I was leaving to spend the night down the street, I left the gas on the stove. I was going to kill every damn person in that house and didn't even care. My friend and I were sitting outside when we heard sirens and saw the fire trucks come to my house. I ran home, and the firemen told me I couldn't go in because of a gas leak.

My mom and siblings walked out of the house and were fine. My mom's boyfriend smelled gas while he was in the living room, woke them all up, and called the fire department. I was mad that this plan didn't work, but it was whatever. Then, a few weeks passed, and my mom and I got into a fight. As she was leaving for work, I told her I hope you get into a crash and die. Later that night, we were all sleeping, and the phone rang. My cousin answered it, and it was a hospital telling her my mom crashed and totaled her car, but she was fine and needed to be picked up. She woke me up and told me all this. I only asked if she was dead, and when she said no, I went back to sleep.

My mom blamed it on me for wishing it. I didn't know I had that kind of power because it didn't work when I wanted my stepfather dead. He was still alive and alive to this day. My future husband asked me to marry him yet again. I told him the same thing as last time. You have a girlfriend, so probably not. Summer and my birthday were approaching fast. I was about to be 17 soon. May came around, and My future husband asked me again to marry him, and I said the same thing. June came along, and I could not wait. School was almost over, and I would graduate from high school the following year. Buuuut, We had different plans.

My future husband's girlfriend finally broke up with him. He called, told me what happened, and said he would be there tonight. He came over that night and told me we could be together now and when I was going to marry him. I said I didn't know and he should ask my mom. I was now 17 years old and did what I always did for my birthday: go to the movies with him. We enjoyed it. We both love movies. My favorite genres are horror and action, and his are action and comedy. My mom got a new job where she worked from 6 am to 4 pm and home before 5 pm. She was told that she was no longer eligible for HUD and we had thirty days to vacate the premises. So we left our little town, and my mom and siblings moved in with her boyfriend's sister until my mom saved up for a downpayment on our own house. I moved in with my boyfriend and his parents because he was living with them now.

My husband hasn't lived with his parents since he was fifteen. He lived with friends from 15 to 21 years old, then moved back home with his parents so that I would have somewhere to stay. We decided to save up for our own apartment. It was a lot easier back then, in the mid-90s, to rent one. Also, a lot of rentals back then even offered paid utilities. So it's been three months, and we are still living with his parents, and my mom calls one day. She told me she had bought a house in the next state over, and the upstairs part of the house had a studio apartment if we wanted it. I was excited to be moving. Don't get me wrong, I loved his parent, and I have known them since I was 14. But I wanted to be in our place. My mom said that we would have to pay our utilities and pay 200 a month in rent. Not bad, right? Then she told me her boyfriend didn't want us to move in unless we were married. We both said okay, when can we get married and where?

My mom said that the Justice of the Peace is about thirty minutes from where we are moving, and we can go there. When I got married at 17 years old, my mom had to come and sign me away. You know, like I'm a pet or some shit. We were married in 1995, three months after my 17th birthday.

We moved into the apartment above my mom's house the day we got married after my husband took his mom and grandmother home. But before he brought them home, they needed to stop at a grocery store, so he took them there to pick up whatever. He saw his ex-girlfriend there, and she tried to talk to him. He told her he married me, and she walked away. When he returned, we started setting up our new place.

MARRIED LIFE

I am now married and trying to get into school for my last year of high school. When I tried registering, I told them I was newly married, had moved, and wanted to finish my senior year. When I told them what state and school I attended, they told me I would have to start as a sophomore because of the credits. You only need 20 credits to graduate in my state, but the new state was doubled, and I didn't have enough to be a senior. GREAT! Also, if I had attended that school, I couldn't have worn my wedding ring, talked about being married, or brought him to any school functions since he was 21. They recommended that I go to night school and receive my GED.

That's what I ended up doing. It was easy to get my GED, but since I wasn't 18, I had to attend classes until I turned. My husband had a new job that my mom's boyfriend got for him. He quit his other two jobs and started working with him immediately since it was double the pay he received from the other two. We are happy and living our life. Then, one day, I started getting phone calls from a girl he dated when he was 15. She showed up another time in our lives when he was 17, and he told her he wasn't interested in her anymore to leave him alone.

She did for a long time. Then, somehow, she started calling my house. I told him when he got home that she kept calling and telling me that you were cheating on me and that she had been in our apartment. But I knew it was a lie because she couldn't tell me anything about my apartment. She called that night, and he answered the phone and told her to stop calling our house. She was telling him that she still loved him and wanted him back. He told her he was married, not to call again, and hung up. He looks at me and says change the number, or she won't stop. We didn't know how she got the number because I ensured we were unlisted.

We went to his mom's house one day, and as we were getting in the car to leave, his sister called him back to the house. When he returned to that car, I asked why he was yelling at her. She was the one who gave the number and address to this girl. That is how she had all our information and knew where we lived. What the hell why would she do that? He said she called, and his sister answered, asking to speak to my husband. That's when she told her he got married and moved to another state, and she asked for his number and new address. And his dumb-ass sister gave it to her, not knowing who she was.

Everything was fine now. She never showed up at our house and couldn't call, so we moved on. After a few months, a cousin who hated me called my mom and wanted to talk to me. This girl tried to drown me when I was nine or ten, and then at 15, she tried to run me down in her car. At least she didn't stop when she tried. She is calling me seriously as if we were friends. When I reached the phone, she said I had some bad news. I asked her what she could tell me that I would care. That's when she hit me with the news. One of my best friends got hit by a train and died.

Not HIM! What the HELL HAPPENED! He was drunk, and his car stalled out. He left his car, started walking on the tracks, and got hit by the train. She wanted to know if she should pick me up to go to the funeral. My husband came into the kitchen as I was crying and trying to speak. My mom told him what happened, and he took the phone from me and told her not to pick me up, and I wasn't going. Once he hung up, I was so pissed off. I ran upstairs, and he came after me. How could you tell her no, or will you take me? He said NO! I ran back downstairs, not wanting to be near him. My mom asked why he wouldn't take me, and he told her she used to sleep with him. I'm not taking her to his funeral.

That's when I asked him if his ex died, I would want him to go to her and that I would even go with him. He said he wouldn't want to go to hers either. I was so upset because, yes, I slept with him, but he was my best friend before that, and after we stopped, even after his girlfriend told him to stop. It was me, him, and our other guy friend who remained close. I was devastated. He was so jealous of a dead guy, and the last time I saw him was at Greyhound bus stations because me and my tia were going to Texas. He walked by me and said Hey, and we stopped to talk for a minute and caught up with each other. I was so upset. I called our mutual friend, who was like his brother, and we talked awhile. He told me he felt awful because he was supposed to go with him to the party. He started crying, and I started crying. He ensured that he was ok, and we hung up.

I told my husband about the call when he returned from work. He asked me why I called him and told me he was mad. I don't understand his jealousy. My husband knew I fell in love with him the first day I saw him. That was in our vows. Yes, I have had relationships before I met him, and we were friends with benefits the whole time. I never kept that from him. So, I was just confused. I loved him so much that I lost my breath when we kissed. It hurt even when he was at work, and I went to school at night and couldn't be with him until he picked me up. I'm not gonna lie; I was jealous, too. Especially when that girl called me and told me they were sleeping together in my bed. I didn't trust anybody, and I mean that wholeheartedly; I trusted no one; I barely trusted my mom. I never told anyone that I loved them except him and my grandmother. But I trusted him with all my heart. But with his jealousy, I didn't get it. Since I have known my husband, there are so many stories that I haven't even talked about.

When we 1st met, like I said, it was a month before my 13th birthday. I lied to him about my age because I knew his age. It was a few months later that I told him my actual age. I was a very angry teen who took it out on people. Especially my mom. I was furious with her for letting all the abuse happen to us and not believing me for the second monster she let in our life. But I loved my grandmother. She was my favorite person. She moved in with another aunt because my mom couldn't take care of her mom and dad, and there wasn't any room at this house. So my aunt took her in, and she lived 2 hours away. I only saw her once in a while. I talked to her so much on the phone that my friends thought I was weird because Who? called and spoke to their grandmother. ME, I Do!! So, when I was fourteen. God, I remember this day like it was yesterday. All my aunts and uncles called the house asking for my mom and if I knew about grandma.

They would say no, and my mom would tell me. So I knew my grandma died. When my mom came home, I told her everyone had been calling and why wouldn't they tell me what was wrong with my grandma. That's when she told me, and I walked out of the house barefoot and started walking. My best friend was there so she came after me. She asked me if I was okay, and I said yeah, why? She said it was because my grandma died. I said she wasn't dead. She was at the hospital. For the next two weeks, I asked my mom if we could visit Grandma and why she wasn't answering the phone. No one repeated that my grandma died. Then, on the day of her wake and funeral, my mom said that we had to go to see my grandma. I said I didn't want to know. I didn't want to see her sick.

She fought with me to get dressed and get in the car. As she pulled out of the driveway, I ran upstairs, stopped her, and jumped in. I didn't get dressed, so I went in my pajamas. When we walked into the funeral home, I didn't know what it was. Sorry, I've never been to a funeral until she died. I thought it was a nursing home, so I asked where her room was. My cousins were walking up to me to say sorry as my mom was taking me into her room. I looked and said where am I? She pointed me towards the casket, and I saw her and freaked out.

I was screaming and ran up to her. I was over her, bawling my eyes out, and wouldn't let anyone near me. It was all a shock to me. What the fuck did they do to her. That's when I stopped crying and sat down. During that time, I was standing at her casket again, crying. When a cousin walks up and says she shouldn't be buried in the ring, someone should have it and tried to take it off her. Are you kidding me? So I calmly looked at her and said take it off, you're dead. She starts yelling that she is an adult and I can't talk to her that way. So I got louder, and we started yelling at each other. Everyone ran back into the room and tried to get me away from the casket, but I wouldn't let go and almost toppled it over.

They asked us what had happened, and she lied. I told them what had happened, and they believed me because they knew her, and she was a thief, I guess. They also weren't shocked by my accusations. After her funeral, we all had dinner and mingled. I am sitting here listening to all the talking. And I overhear some things, so I'm sitting there thinking about everything they told me. And how it didn't match what I'm hearing. My thoughts went like this: First, the lady in the casket did not look like my grandma. There is no way she would have wanted to be buried in what she was wearing and wear her makeup that way. Secondly, no one has told me, are you joking? And thirdly, You guys said that the ambulance took her to the hospital, where she died on the way.

I finally stood up and started to say the third thing on my list. And that "Why am I overhearing? You put her in the ambulance to go to a nursing home, and she went into cardiac arrest in the ambulance after she asked where she was going. You all know that she always said the day she has to go to a nursing home is the day she dies." Who did it, or was it everyone? I shouted that they all killed her and that they would never see me again. My mom apologized to them. There was no way I would have. I wanted answers; I did not give a fuck about their feelings. WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY GRANDMA? That was the only question I had for these people.

Finally, my mom spoke up and said, "She told everyone not to tell me that she was on the way to a nursing home because she knew how I would react, and that she did tell me she passed away and that I blocked it out." Yea, no shit! She always told everyone that—another reason to be mad at my mom. As we were leaving for the cemetery, I was in a rage and crying so hard. When we arrived and after whoever said whatever, she started to be lowered to the ground. I tried to jump in, but people caught me. This woman told me that she would never leave me, that we would die together. Now she is gone. My life was shattered. I can honestly tell you that I was even meaner and colder than before. I had nothing left in me to care about anything.

My grandmother died in December, near Christmas. That's also when I stopped caring about that; I didn't care about anyone or anything except for my future husband. He was the one there for me after my grandma's funeral. That is probably the worst thing that happened to me was when she died. As the months passed, nothing significant happened except for what you read.

Okay, I got sidetracked; let me start here. It is the summer I turn 19, and we are moving out of my mom's upstairs apartment and back to the state we left. Because my tia had triplets, and I was moving a block away from her to help. I fell in love with those babies. I was there all day, every day, except for the weekends. After six weeks, my tia asked if I could start babysitting them so she could return to work. She couldn't stand being home. She has always worked. I had no problem doing it. I was with them every day. They were my babies, and she just had them for me. I cared for them for 2 1/2 years before she wanted to enroll them in preschool so they could learn to socialize. Socialize: Why did they need to socialize? They socialize with me. I thought.

As I said, she lived a block away, so I was still always there. My husband would pick me up when he got home from work. Yea, here is another side note: I did not drive. I didn't get my license until I was 28 years old. I was terrified to drive. I still hate driving to this day. I don't drive expressways and won't take super busy roads. And I freak out when a big truck or semis is near me. Anyway, I got a job at the mall and took a bus there, and my husband picked me up after work. I loved working there, and I did pretty well. I left there after working for about a year. After I left, we moved back to the next state over, and I got a job back where I worked before we moved. I became an assistant manager shortly after that and worked there for three years.

I loved working here. It was super easy, and I worked with many people my age. It was incredible, and I made way above minimum wage. I was transferred to another store because a new store manager came in and told us no hair color, such as pink, purple, blue, or anything like that. No tattoos were allowed to show, and there were no more free lunches and cigarette breaks. Everyone who was on that shift walked out. My friend and I were the only two who called back, and they wanted me in another store to be a rat. This store had many issues with theft, and customers said they would walk in, but no one was there. I agreed, and the first day I was there, the three people on shift went into the walk-in cooler and started smoking weed.

I asked them a few times not to do it—please, not when I'm there—but they didn't listen. They went into the cooler and stayed there for about fifteen minutes. I called the store manager, and she showed up and waited by the cooler until they walked out. She fired all of them and closed the store down early that night. After a couple of days, I went to work, and two out of the three were back. They had begged for their jobs back since they needed the money for rent and stuff, so they gave him another chance. A few months go by with nothing exciting happening. It was almost Christmas, and I requested time off work because I was throwing a family Christmas party. Well, my mom and I were. The next day, I received a call to get to the store immediately. I get up there and tell my husband to wait in the car. It wouldn't be long.

When I came in, the district supervisor and store manager were there. I asked what the problem was and was told that the manager on duty last night said I dropped off the deposit, which was never deposited. Where was it? I reminded them I was off yesterday, but someone put my name on the schedule. this bitch was trying to set me up for theft. I told them I wasn't there again and told them to watch the cameras. They didn't think about that and watched them see I was not there. She closed the store and took the deposit envelope, and then they called the police and told me I could leave.

I was furious that she would try that and that they believed her. You sent me there to spy for you because you couldn't prove anything. I wanted to quit, but I needed that job. Then, a few more months went by, and everything was ok. The store was running back to normal, and it was going well. One day, the assistant store manager asked me if I knew how to put hours in someone's time card because they didn't clock in but clocked out. I said I did, and she gave me the store manager's password. I fixed the problem and went about my way.

The next day, I walked in for my shift and was asked to enter the office. All I thought was, what did I do now? So, when I walked into the office, I was told to sit down and that we needed to talk. She asked me why I told them how much I got paid, which I didn't, and asked about the computer last night. I told her that the Ast store manager asked me if I knew how to add hours to someone's time, and I said I did, and she gave me that password. She then gave me that password, and I fixed the problem. But I have never told anyone how much I got paid. She handed me my check since it was payday and it was opened. I showed her someone opened it.

We discovered that rumors were going around that store that I was making more money than the assistant store manager. She opened my check and saw that I was. So, she asked the store manager about it and gave me the store manager's password, not hers, to set me up. Well, that worked because no one is supposed to have that password, and we were both fired—me for using the password and her for giving it to me and opening my check. I was so mad about that. I moved on and got a job at a video store right down the street from my apartment.