Mama Julia

May 5, 2009
By Stephanie Neilsen BRONZE, Wamego, Kansas
Stephanie Neilsen BRONZE, Wamego, Kansas
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

If you really want to hear my story I will tell you, but I promise you do not have to. I mean I can leave right now. There is no trouble, I promise. (Pause, look at judge) You seem to be interested so, I guess I will tell you.

(Sit in chair) When I was younger I had a lisp. My father always said it was my fault. Whenever mama tried to disagree my dad would hit her. It is sad to say but I got used to it. I learned quickly not to talk when daddy was around, because every time I did daddy, or Sir to me, would beat mommy telling her it was not only my fault but hers too. I would always then be sent to my room where I would be able to hear Sir beating mom.

On my 4th birthday Sir slept in while mommy packed. I remembered her saying something about giving Sir sleeping pills and that when he woke up she would be gone. I also remember her telling me to be good and that when she became settled down she would come back for me. (Pause) She never did. After she left Sir made me do all of her jobs. If I did not do them to his perfection he would yell at me to do it again and then hit me. I still am jumpy when I am alone with men. I would always end up with bruises; when ever Sir took me into public he made me wear long sleeve shirts and pants. Those were the days I loved best, there was no yelling or hitting it was just Sir and me.

I will never forget the day that it all changed. Some new family was moving in beside our house. As always Sir would not let me go meet them. He said I had chores to do even though I had everything done. He then yelled at me to stop pestering him and go clean the basement. As I started toward the basement, I heard the doorbell ring. I saw Sir walk to the door and open it. It was almost like a force pulled me but I went to Sir’s side, even though I knew that night I would have many new bruises. “Hi, my name is Jeremy,” said the boy at the door, “and this is my mom, Ms. Julia Petermen.” Sir spoke sternly and told the little boy and his mother that it was nice to meet them and started to close the door when Ms. Petermen spoke up. “We were wondering if this little darling would like to come to our house to play.” (To judge) Play? What was that? I had never heard of such a thing. The only thing I ever did was cook and clean. (Back to story) Sir abruptly told Ms. Petermen I was fine and that I did not want to “play.” As Sir shut the door on them, I downcast my eyes knowing that if I made one wrong move, I would be in more pain then I had ever been in. Surprisingly, Sir did nothing but tell me never to speak to Jeremy and Ms. Petermen. (To judge) I never really understood why he said that until now when I look back on it. (Back to story) Jeremy and Ms. Petermen would always come back every Monday to see if I wanted to “play,” whatever it was. Sir would always respond the same way by saying “NO” and slamming the door.

One day Ms. Petermen came by herself and asked if she could talk to Sir alone. The only thing I remember was Sir actually let me go after they talked. I did not want to go at first because of the look on Sir’s face; I knew what I would probably get beat if I automatically started cleaning, thinking that if I did not Sir would some how find our and I would get beat. Ms Petermen stopped me instantly and asked me what I was doing. I told her, and she laughed? (Confused expression) I did not know exactly what was going on, she kept telling me she was not laughing at me, I do not know if I believed her though.

The rest of the day Ms. Petermen taught me so many games I confused most of them with eachother. One thing I distinctly remember was the Ms. Petermen would only respond to my questions if I called her Mama Julia. If I called her Ms. Petermen she would tickle me until I said Mama Julia. That was the first day I learned to laugh and have fun.

Jeremy always was nice to me, he never yelled at me and if I did not know something or messed something up, he would just say “You’ll do better next time.” He was also always gentle. He would show me all his collections of action figures and rocks.

After awhile I got rather warm and asked Mama Julia if she could help me with my jacket. Sir had made me put it on before we left the house, it was not even cold. Anyways, as soon as I got if off Mama Julia’s face changed to worry. She asked me how I go my bruises and I told her. She seemed shocked, I do not know why, Sir always said that the only way to tame a kid was to hit’em. She took me home that night but said nothing to Sir. Surprisingly, Sir just told me to go to bed, because I looked tired.

This went on for months; I would go to Mama Julia’s house every Monday. I always looked forward to Mondays, throughout the week whenever Sir would yell at me, I would just think about how nice Jeremy and Mama Julia were. Almost every Monday Mama Julia would try to find out what I had done the week before. I would tell her, and she always seemed to be shocked after I was done telling her. She would then help me work on my lisp. After that she would let me go play for the rest of the day.

Finally on January 20th, I saw Mama Julia come to my house with another lady who seemed really nice. When Sir answered the door his face turned to a bunch of confusion and fury. The nice lady took me into another room with Mama Julia. She then had me tell her everything I told Mama Julia. When I was done, Mama Julia took me to her house while the nice lady talked to Sir. All I remember was asking Mama Julia why she was crying. She said that they were happy tears and that she would miss me. I was confused by her last words; I told her I was not leaving. The last time I saw Mama Julia, Jeremy, and Sir was that day.

I look back on it now, and understand more of what happened that day. Mama Julia saved my life that day. When ever people ask me who my parents are, I tell them…Mama Julia.

The author's comments:
This is a piece that I wrote for a forensics tournament.

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This article has 2 comments.

mblanchard08 said...
on Jun. 11 2009 at 8:26 pm

"Break a leg"

on Jun. 10 2009 at 9:25 pm
pinksage33 BRONZE, Woodstock, New York
4 articles 1 photo 211 comments
Good story!

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