No remorse, no shame,

nothing but pure arrogance!  There I was, a tiny petite little fourteen year old, lame as the day is long.  How could I know what those two buzzards were up to?  As far as I knew we were traveling as a family to Fort Gordon, Georgia , so that cowardly Doster could beg his commanding officer to change his orders for Viet Nam.

Those two heathen, fake Christians, drove exceeding the speed limit, loaded down with their magic dust.  I remember scoffing silently; "Stupid ass n******!"   Little did I know what was in store for me that very night.  I will not go into details in this post. (It is a trigger)  Well, you should know I escaped that rape, that act of prostitution.  You should also know that I haven't been right since.

The speed in which Martha ran behind the military police, retrieving that black n***** from jail amazed me.  "Don'cha n****** TELL IT!" That was the advice she gave us.  As far as my mother was concerned, I was just another dummy that passed up a chance to make some easy money.

Doster did not get a reprieve  claiming family hardship and his "roots" did not help.  He had to go.  I was glad he went.  Now, I didn't have to kill him.  Yes, I was only 14, tiny, but not feeble.  I sharpened a pocket knife in between the bricks of our  patio.  As I sharpened, as I made sure that knife was razor sharp, I could see myself plunging that knife in that pervert's heart up to the handle.  I could see myself removing it and plunging it again and again! I laugh now remembering the prayer I prayed; "GOD if you want this black muthaf***** to live, you better keep him the f*** away from me!" ( I have always cursed like a sailor.  My mother taught me well.)

Some how I sensed that my nasty mother was behind it, I just refused to accept my truth.  I was still trying to weasel some love out of this confused, hot, cold, good, bad, lying, truth telling harlot.  I did like she said and avoided the sun so I would not get too black.  I studied like a maniac to make good grades.  I ran home after school every day and made sure her filthy house was immaculately clean.  Just so the low hideous slut could mess it up immediately.

The whore would march in every day after work, with no remorse, no shame and kick off her shoes, lift off her wig (she always wore her wigs like a hat with no pins)  and disrobe all the way to her room, littering the house with her skirts, blouses, ear rings, necklaces, scarves, slips, girdles.  Just like Celie in the Color Purple, I followed behind her, picking up everything.

I know now I was her bitch! Her valet, nurse, house n*****! I was her footstool, something to wipe her filthy feet on.  Groomed from birth, how could I know this was not a proper mother-daughter relationship.

GOD sent me to tell all of you, there is no hiding place.  "You might get by, but you wont' get away."  And most of all don't you ever get up in a pulpit preaching !  Don't YOU mock GOD!  Don't kick dirt on someone that is already down and hurting!  Don't  hate the innocent victims because they finally became bold enough to come clean about their tortured life.

If you are living a lie because you are afraid to know your truth,  Pray! Pray for the courage to be set free! Know that you were used. Know that your own mother never loved you.  Know that coward had nothing but hatred for you.  Know that she was as ignorant and wicked as the day is long.  Do not continue robbing yourself calling that woman a "woman of GOD".  Don't tell that lie!

[Excerpt from The JR WALTERS  Chronicles    July 7, 2014   All rights reserved.]