Orphan Survival Stories Index |
CRY! YOU LITTLE BASTARD
"Roger Dean, report to Mrs. McGarvy at the nursery building. NOW!" Screamed the house parent at the orphanage where I lived. Out the door I went, running as fast as I could across the large grass circle which sat in the middle of the orphanage grounds. As I approached the long, slender white, brick building I saw a woman standing in the doorway.
"Roger Dean Kiser?" She asked me, raising her eyebrows at me.
"Yes Ma'am" I said, as I followed her into the building.
We entered a small room, located on the left side of the hallway. As we walked into the room she took me by the arm and led me to a small school type desk which was sitting near the front of the classroom.
"How old are you now" She asked me.
"I'm ten now."
"How long have you lived here at the Children's Home?" Was her next question.
"I been here a long time now. A real long time."
"A year? Two years? How many years have you lived here?" She inquired.
"I don't know about no years. I just been here a long time."
"Do you know why you are here?"
" 'Cause my grandma beat me up real bad and the police took me away."
"What about you mother? Do you remember her at all?" Was her next question.
"I don't ever remember having no mother."
"What about your father?"
I just sat there shaking my head back and forth.
"Do you remember your fathers?" She asked again, as she took me by the chin and pulled my face toward her face.
I looked directly into her eyes and I just sat there not knowing what to say to her.
"Your father. Do you remember your father?" She questioned again.
"I don't remember nobody. Just my grandma and her big black car."
"Did your Granny love you?"
"My grandma gave me food." I told her, as I sat forward in my seat.
"But did she love you?" Was her next question.
"I don't know what you mean."
"Well, I can tell you now that your granny did not love you. Neither did your mother or your father. How does that make you feel inside?" She said, in a loud voice.
"I don't know." I told her, shaking my head.
"Does it hurt you inside that nobody loves you?"
"I don't feel no hurt inside me. Really I don't. I don't really feel nothing inside me."
All at once she grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me up out of my chair.
"WHAT DOES IT TAKE TO MAKE YOU CRY?" She screamed.
I just stood there not having any idea what was happening. All at once she slapped me across the face and pushed me backwards into the seat.
"NO BODY LOVES YOU and that has to make you feel sad. Do you understand that?"
"I guess so." I told her, as I put my hands up to protect my face.
"YOUR MOTHER DOESN'T LOVE YOU AND YOUR FATHER DOESN'T LOVE YOU." She screamed at me again.
"What do you want me to say?" I asked.
Once again she grabbed me by the shirt and raised me out of the seat. She grabbed me by the chin and squeezed my face as hard as she could.
"I want you to feel something. I want you to cry."
"But I don't feel like no crying"
"You had better cry you little bastard." She said, as she slapped me on the side of my face.
"CRY, CRY, CRY" She yelled out each time that she would slap me.
Sure enough I began to cry and she let go of me.
"It is very important that we cry and let our feelings out." She said to me in a soft and loving voice.
I must have cried for fifteen minutes. I was then sent, with my red face, back to my dormitory. I climbed into my bed and feeling all warm inside, I fell asleep.
Even to this day I do not have the slightest idea what actually happened in that room that day. I hope that someone who reads this story can fill me in. Because I am still very puzzled by that incident.
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