Here's+Taylor's+story

media type="custom" key="2991268"Taylor Salton

The year that I turned nine was when I wanted to have a sibling. I was so sick and tired of being the only one. I was the one who always got in trouble; I had no one to blame. I wanted someone to play with, someone to talk to. I remember the day I was writing out my Christmas list. I wanted a dog, a bike, and a brother or sister. My mom looked at the list. She laughed. “Taylor. You’re not going to have a sibling anytime soon, She you might as well forget it.” That’s very comforting to say but I didn’t believe her. I knew it would happen I knew. There was a feeling in my body, a feeling in my gut. I knew it was going to happen. A month before I turned nine my mother had just gotten married to my step-dad. It was the three of us. It was always about me. The spotlight always lit on me. No attention on anyone else. And it was unfair. I wanted to get away with trouble I caused. Then blame it on my sister or brother, and then be free! A few months passed and I was still alone. My mother came home like any other day, but she was smiling non-stop. I was curious but it didn’t bother me too much so I just went back in my room, A few moments later my mom called me. I was furious, making me pause my video game. What the hell? But of course I acted as if nothing was wrong and walked out of my room. “ Taylor I have some news.” My mother said still smiling, “Yes.” I replied. “ We’re going to have another baby.” “What!” I shouted. “ I knew it would happen. I knew.” My smile was just as big as my mother’s. I had this feeling for a while. I knew I would have the enjoyment of a brother or sister, someone who looks up to me. I knew it was going to be an experience of a lifetime. She was born on November 19, 2002 and it changed my life forever. “Sydney stop kicking me.” I yelled at the now four year old. I constantly have to tell her to stop and it’s getting on my nerves, no she’s getting on my nerves. I’m going to hurt her. I don’t even care if I get in trouble. Boy time has changed since she was a sweet little 1year old just learning how to talk. When she started talking it just when down hill from there. I don’t know what the hell happened. That sweet little girl was gone. Ok. You might think I’m over reacting but screw you I’m not. This girl is the pimple on your face. You can’t get rid of. I mean you can’t. I won’t say that Sydney and I did not have our sister-to-sister moments, because we did don’t get me wrong. But man did she have badness written all over her. My mother kept saying, “She’s just a kid Taylor. She doesn’t know any better” ha! She knew exactly what she was doing. I wasn’t stupid. And neither was she. She was a mastermind of destruction. The queen of evil! I’ll give you and example of the evilness that goes on around me. This passed summer I remember my friend asking me if I wanted to go shopping with her. Well of course I can’t say no to that so I get ready. I take a shower get dressed you know the routine. On my way out I realized I had forgotten my money upstairs in my room. Casually I walk back upstairs to get my wallet. Opening my door I look on my desk, because that’s where I left it last. I didn’t see. Weird. You know I looked again because we try to think that’s it going to reappear when we look twice. Still noting. I looked on the floor under my desk. May be it fallen. Nope nothing on the floor except the missing sock I have been looking for, but that’s not my main concern. I have no idea where it could be but I have no time. No one was home and my friend just rang my doorbell. Forget it. There’s no way. Well I had a good time looking at all of the cute clothes and not being able to buy any. I get home and I ask my parents have they seen my wallet. Or course they haven’t seen it so I look in my room a couple more times just to make sure. Still nothing. Where the hell did I put it? I stood there thinking. I thought hey why not look in Sydney’s room; I’m sure it wont be there but what not. Sure enough that little witch had my wallet in her little cubby. Ok. May be I should let it go and realize that it was a mistake. I’m sure she accidentally tripped and fell in my room and just slipped away with my wallet. Yea. Whatever. That didn’t just happen. And I didn’t let it go. I flipped out man! She went into my room. Took my wallet with $45 bucks and placed it in her room as if it was hers. And you want to know what else? She had the nerve to act like she didn’t understand English when I asked her why she took it. Can’t you believe that? Another thing that puzzled me was what the hell was she going to do with it? Does she even know what money is? Honestly. Well, its not that I don’t love my sister because I do. I just wish she would stop talking and going in my room and bothering me when I’m on the phone. You know stuff siblings are supposed to do. I don’t regret wishing for a sibling at all. It s just I though it was would happiness all the time. But I am grateful to have her as my sister, and im lucky to be the oldest. I’ll be able to guide her in the right direction. Teach her the ways of the world. And if I can’t do that I’m sure she’ll end up being this evil genius trying to rule the world. Hey, I wouldn’t be surprised.

Taylor Salton

I have a necklace heart shape and silver. My mother gave it to me when I turned eight. She told me I was a beautiful girl with long brown hair and chocolate brown eyes. A smile that twinkled like a star you wish upon. My mother was the only family I ever loved. When I lost her I lost everything…except this necklace. I wear it every day. I never take it off.

“Shut up!” he said to me as he slapped me across the face. I collapsed to the ground knocking over the lamp. “I told you I would do it” I sobbed. “You better. Having you around is like having the life sucked out of me. You’re a mistake that’s all. You’re just a small bump on the back of my life. He stumbled away beer bottle in hand. I watched as my father tripped over the chair and dragged himself up and into his room. The door was slammed. The eco was loud. He came back out. He walked down the stairs and looked at me with disgust. He opened the door and went to work. I cried. My tears ran down my cheek and dropped onto my legs. I told him I would do the dishes. I told him. He just wouldn’t listen. I want out. My mother passed away when I was nine. I still remember it just as clear. The hospital was cold. There were so many people around her. Their hands moving fast. They ran down the halls carrying her on a stretcher. I couldn’t really see anything past that point. All I know is that when the doctor came out, head down, she was gone. “There was nothing else we could do…I’m sorry” the doctor said. My father refused to accept it. He didn’t want it to be true. The love of his past has just left him. Not alone, but with a child he didn’t want in the first place. They were young kids who were in love and they didn’t want a child. She died. And I had to stay with him. It wasn’t fair but he was my father. He never did tell me why and how she died. My father just kept it to himself ever since. I’m sixteen now and life is hell for me. Being pushed around at home everyday for everything I do. I do everything he tells me to but, still I get hit or slapped or whatever comes to his mind. I feel like I hate him. I want to put all my anger towards him. But the sad truth is he is still my father. He is my flesh and blood; my provider and my guardian. I wish there was a way to change things. They say that by praying it makes things happen, but I’ve been praying for years now and still…nothing. Ha Grandparents? What grandparents? Yeah…I don’t know who they are. Apparently, because my mother had me at such a young age her family disowns her. Therefore I wasn’t able to meet them because of this so called isolation they have between us. I wonder if they even know that their daughter has been dead for the past seven years. The only person who really loves me is my boyfriend Ross. He is my best friend. I tell him just about everything about my pathetic life at home. All the abuse I take on a daily basis. All the problems I go through. He does everything in his power to help. “You need to talk to a therapist or better yet a cop.” Ross said with anger in his voice through the phone. “I’m scared that if he does get arrested he’ll get out and find me. I’m scared of him Ross. He is in control of me, like a silly puppet. He tortures me for fun.” “Grace you have to understand that he is a drunk. He drinks out of grief and hate towards your mother. She left him. She left you with him and he has no one to ask for help. So abusing you gets him through the day. He won’t stop Grace. He won’t.” “I know he won’t.” “So why stay? Why put up with the hate and violence huh?” “I don’t know.” There was a pause on the phone. A silence so loud I thought I could hear his heart beat, or the anger in the breath he took. “I can try. I took his abuse for so long that I’m used to it now. It’s something I expect. I expect to do something wrong in his eyes.” “Grace if you don’t get help I’ll…” “You’ll what? Ross I know he is a horrible man but he is still my father all the same.” “I guess...Whatever you say Grace.” Ross said with seriousness in his voice “I know you want the best for me. I understand the hate you have towards him. There is nothing much I can do. “Then I will…” He said without a hint of sarcasm. “What to you mean?” “Grace. I love you. I want the best for you. He has been hurting you for seven years. Do you understand that? You don’t deserve that at all. So what do you think you should do then? You want this guy to keep hurting you for the rest of your life?” “…No.” I said softly. I all of a sudden felt a rush of anger towards my father. I don’t even like him. Let alone love him. “I’ll talk to you later ok? I love you.” He said “I love you too.” I said with a hint of curiosity I hung up the phone pondering about the conversation that just went on. I never though about this issue fully through. I always knew that I had to tell someone but I just can’t. I’m afraid. I want to but something is holding my back from it. May be one day I’ll find some way to speak out… Our house is 2 stories high and is painted baby blue or sky blue. Either color would fit. I spend most of my time in my room. Only because I don’t like to be around my father for long and honestly I don’t want to come out. I only come out when I am hungry. He doesn’t cook. He doesn’t have time to cook. He drives trucks all hours of the night and when he comes home (drunk) he usually pulls me out of bed asking what was made for him to eat. Yes. I do everything around the house. Cooking, cleaning, yard work, anything he can think of for me to do. I care barely sleep at times because I feel like he is hovering over me about to do something. I’m afraid one day he’ll kill me without even a notice or a care. Why do I put up with this? There is no reason for me to. It’s not like we’re close. I think I need to get out. I’m so sick. Ross is right things need to change…and I’m going to change them. “Grace! Get out here!” Matt (my father) screamed. He came in the house drunk as usual swerving like someone behind a car. I turned my music down and went downstairs. “Yes.” I replied “I thought I told you to take out that damn trash!” Obviously he was drunk and is saying things that weren’t true. He never told me to take the trash out. I know it was a way for him to be in control of me so I went along with it. “I for got. Sorry I’ll do it now.” “You better.” As I walked past him to grab the trash bag by the door, I bent down and in an instant I felt a strong jolt in my stomach. The bastard kicked me. I fell to the ground with a pain that seemed like it wouldn’t go away. “The next time I tell you to do something you make sure you do it! Ya Got it?” He said to me with such anger. So much anger that he ripped my necklace off my neck and threw it in the fire place. I stared at him. I glared hard and tears poured out my eyes. “…..I got it…” I said with attitude and nothing but tears on my face. He went upstairs one slow step at a time. As soon as I wasn’t able to see him I ran outside crying with the garbage bag in hand. I slammed it in the can outside and stood there crying, nonstop tears everywhere. I’m sick! I know what I have to do. I cried in my pillow for at least an hour holding my stomach at the same time. What do I do? I’m trapped in a house with a man raised by Satan. I can’t reach out for help. Time for drastic measures. “He did what!!!!????” Ross said “He kicked me in the stomach Ross…I don’t know how to handle this anymore. I’m to the point where I don’t care that his is my father. He needs to get what he deserves. I just need to think of a way to get him for good.” I told him “Grace you have to think of something. You refuse to ask for help. You refuse to tell anyone else. What are you gonna do?” “…Revenge.” “Well what do you have in mind?” he asked with a dazed look on his face. I could tell by the way he asked the question. “We need to get him back for all the shit he put me through. He’ll pay for what he did to me. He’ll see what happens when he messes with a girl for so long.” “I like where this is going.” “I knew you would. Here’s what I think we should do…” “Grace we should kill him.” Ross interrupted. “What?” I asked “We should find a way to kill him Grace. It’s not like you’ll loose anything. We can find a way. A way for you to get out.” “It never even crossed my mind about killing him. How would we do it? How would we get rid of the body? Who would find out? Would I go to jail if they knew I was being tortured for all these years? Wait. You’re right. That’s what we should do. We should kill him…and…make it seem like he did it to himself. Like a suicide.” “Wow…that’s not a bad idea.” Ross said. “I have a plan… “Tell me.” “No. I’ll tell you when you get here.” I said. I told Ross to meet me outside my house at 12:00 midnight. I had a plan to get this man back. I was determined to get my self together. No more was I the dummy of his puppet show. I will let my anger out on him. And let him know that hate is all I feel towards him. “Ok what do we do? We have to make this fast Grace my mom doesn’t know I’m out” “Trust me…It won’t be long” I told him. I took him inside and opened the door to my Satan’s room. I told him he was drunk and probably wouldn’t wake up for anything. “I like this Grace. This is a side of you I’ve never seen before.” Ross said “I’ve never seen this side of me either. Who knew I had it in me.” We slowly walked over to the bed and put on some black gloves. We moved him out of his bed. My heart punching my chest. My sweat all over my forehead. He didn’t make any movements what so ever. Ross holding him by his legs and I’m holding him by his arms praying that he doesn’t wake up. We move toward the bathroom and place him in the tub of water of warm water. I took my hair dyers and took his hands rubbed it all over. I placed his hands back in the water and picked up the extension cord and walked towards the outlet. By the time I walked over my father stated to stirring around in the tub… “Grace he is waking up!!!” Ross screamed “Whhaaattt? Whhhaatt?. whhhhyyy Am I wet? Grace…what the hell are you doing.” My father asked as he was waking up. “ Something I know you deserve….dad” I said with a conniving look on my face. I took the extension and plugged it in. He was shocked to death. His screams were loud and the echoed just like him slamming the bed room door. We sat there for five minutes after he stopped screaming. “ Grace…what just happened?” “ I numbed his body. I poured it in his beer. He ruined my necklace. My mother gave to me. Not him. He had no right to touch it. It wasn’t his. He had nothing but alcohol and an abusive streak in his body. He got what he deserved. I finally got what I deserved too….his death.

“ I love you Grace.” “ I love you too Ross.”