Chapter 2
Weeks went by since the hospital, and Scarlett talked her way out of any fault from the incident. I knew she could do it . I knew she hated me because I rejected her advances . Scarlet was an devil in disguise of a sweet little girl. She had some real issues and she hid it behind her innocent persona .
I still walked by the woods looking inside . Waiting ,and watching for the hooded man I saw before. Perhaps I am going crazy . Perhaps I have final broken down and lost my mind . I stalked the woods like a wolf guarding their perimeter
How the chores worked all of us system kids were split in three crews we signed in and signed out our hours. No one was permitted to sit down for dinner if we didn't work. If you were on livestock duty you woke up and went to the barn to clean the animal habitats and collect eggs from the evil winged things that played a game of will I bite you or fly at you today. Then the pigs pens had to be sprayed out and scraps tossed in the troff .then the salt blocks for the cows and the letting out the horses and cleaning the stalls and replenishing the water and hay supply. Giving them oats and sweet feed when let them out to follow us to the pasture.
We did that twice a day. But at night we put them back in the stalls.We made sure the chickens ate and again the pigs ate before going home to shower and eat dinner.
Yard crew was responsible for cutting all the grass and flowers weeding and harvesting vegetables and fruits. This included pulling up stumps and when we were especially bad pulling up thissles . We cut the grass in the heat in over one hundred and twenty acres of land. Our elbows were full in manure as we used it to fertilize the flower beds . It was also the place were girls snuck off to handle disputes. You may think it was a version of the bad girls club with mud fights and wrestling. You would be wrong. It was a way to establish dominance and to settle wars in the group home.
You couldn't fight openly in the homes. The house parents would punish us before we had a chance to settle it. So one girl would distract the house parents and the other girls would watch out . It was simple rules only one on one fight . No one could interfere. When the look out saw the house parents the fight was over and the problem somewhat resolved .
Then there was house crew. House crew was the most favored chores . You got to cook and clean the kitchen set and clean the table . Sweep and mop the hallways . Vacuum the living room area and sweep off the porches. The house parents here were our drill instructors. They were mighty Caesars in a house full of tiny involuntary servants.
We were the paychecks . After a while we would get new house parents and new rules according to the parents. One simple rule they had was none of their real kids were allowed to fratanize with the delinquents on the other side of the house.
Thats how we were treated. Like future criminals. Delinquents. A curse to society as everyone at school knew who we were. It was hard to make friends with anyone outside the home. So alliances were necessary in a group home. Certain protections granted according to whom you aligned yourself with. We all existed in a miniature version of a non gated community for involuntary prisoners.
The world outside was not safe because we all ended up here,but the world inside wasn't safe either. We were written off as problem children when we were at no fault of our own. But when it suited them we were perfect money makers. Pretty little charity cases for the state to display us as shown pieces for the security of safeguarding our children from a sick deluted world.
We were not allowed to leave this group home except for school and church. The church preferences were based on the current beliefs of our current house parents at the time.
I was seven years old and this was the world I existed in. Now I'm pacing the forest outside of the all purpose building where donations were given to us from sponsors. It was also where old tenants left their things to be recycled. We left with what we came with . Just like a releasee . Any property we accumulated during our stay was placed in the all purpose building to be recycled to the new children to arrive in their vacant place. Basically it was like a really bad version of a foster child prenuptial agreement. You left with what you came in with. It was their jobs to keep us alive not let us keep the luxeries of the there after.
We didn't go to the stores to shop. We grew our own food. We had donated cans,clothes,and sanitary napkins. We had donated toys. Everything we couldn't get from the storage building they got at the corner store.
The building was separated by a long gravel driveway and large woods . This was where I stood looking in as the other girls gathered supplies for the house. This was where we got our fire wood and kinder as well. This was where I saw my attacker and a point of my anxiety.
When I came back I showered and ate dinner and that night we had a nanny come in. She had a little girl my age and we played together even though we weren't suppose too. Once a month our house parents would hire a state approved nanny to rotate between the five separate houses. It. Was like a rotation . She moved week by week to give the house parents a break from micromanaging the herd.
This particular nanny was a heavy set young woman in her late twenties. Because my mother didn't like to keep us in socks I had knots and sores covering the bottom of my feet from waking with too small shoes and barefooted. The sores were hard and calliced. They were large and small looking like I stepped into a mideval iron madian contraption.
I sat on my bed it hurt for me to were shoes and socks made the blisters sweat and itch. So at night I slept barefooted. The nanny came in to do a bed check and saw me hiding my feet. She smiled and examined them as I sat there embarrassed from the sight.
" You know I had sores like this when I was younger too." She started to sympathize. As she examined my foot more closely as I became insecure about her looking at my sores like they were battle scars from my past.
" How did you make it better." I asked pulling my feet back to me. She simply smiled at my question knowing it was innocent but potent.
" I prayed over them every night. I thought hard and wished myself to heal my hurts. I did this over and over until one day I woke up and my feet were healed . I believed the hurts were healed and in return they were. " She said softly to me.
In disbelief I narrowed my eyes at the nonsensical words coming out of her mouth. I thought prayers don't work that way. You pray and you wait and wait and then it might happen it might not.
" Do you want to try. Praying to heal your hurts? " She asked taking my hands.
" Will it hurt." I asked.
" Everything hurts when it heals. Even the soul. Pain reminds us we are alive." She reminded me.
" I don't want it to hurt ." I cried in protest .I had hurt so much already and I was scared .
"Well pray it won't hurt . Say it with me no pain while I heal I pray unto thee. No pain as I heal onto thee."she kept repeating this mantra as she placed my hands on my sore filled feet . A strange sensation came over me as my feet began to itch. Then I got really tired I felt like my energy was pulled out of me as I believed in all my might to heal my hurts to make my sores disappear as I layed back and fell asleep.
The very next morning I woke up and ran to the bathroom. My feet didn't hurt as I walked on them . I was so confused and bewilder what happened to the pain. I jumped on my bed and looked at my feet.
The sores and blisters were gone and my feet smooth to the touch. That nanny never came back to see us after that night. I always wondered how she did that. This guardian that healed my pain.