FIVE TO TEN
He was on drugs. Put needles in. Dope. Five, until I was ten. I was paralyzed. Nobody knew. If I tell my mom he’s gonna kill her. My mom used to drink so much that he used to put alcohol, rubbing alcohol, in a rag. She’d be asleep, but you know when a person’s not sound asleep, he’d put that up against her face and put her to sleep.
It was my three brothers, Angel, Joshua, and Frankie. My brother Frankie, I told him about it. We’d all sleep together in the bed and me and my brother Frankie would change pajamas. I’d put the boys pajamas on and pull my hair back in a ponytail so he can’t know the difference and then I’d get under the bed and I’d fall asleep under the bed with a pillow and blanket.
And my brother would wear my clothes, my long dress pajamas, and he’ll lay down in the bed. And one day he was looking for me in the bed and he tapped my brother and my brother was like What are you doing? He just ran out the door. I was looking for something, that’s all he said.
From five until I was ten. That’s a long time. He left me paralyzed. He messed up all my insides. I couldn’t walk. I woke up one morning and couldn’t get up from the bed. He used to take me to the hospital Oh what’s wrong with her? The doctors didn’t really know. They said something’s wrong with my legs, my legs are really weak. They had me in a wheelchair for a long time.
I didn’t speak. I had a dollhouse and I used to sit there and play with it and I would talk to the dolls. I would talk to nobody else, not even my brothers. I would talk sign language to people and they didn’t think I talked. So one day I was playing with the doll and I was talking to the dolls and my brother heard me and he said, You talk! You talk! And I was just looking at him, No I don’t. Jennifer
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FIFTEEN
Then I met Gordo’s father. I ended up moving in with him, and just chillin with him. He was very jealous. I was skinny and I liked to wear belly shirts. He didn’t like that. I would attract a lot of attention outside. This black dude named Mel, he’s just like Oh what’s up girl? He started talking to me and he chased me up the stairs. Gordo’s father came to the door and said You got to leave. He got real mad at me. He ripped my shirt. He was very mad, like obsessively mad, You’re not wearing this here da-da-da-da, and I just didn’t want to deal with him.
So I started staying at my friend Donna’s house. And Donna said All you do is sleep. Every time you eat something, you throw it out. You seem like you’re pregnant. And I was like, Oh yeah right. I can’t be pregnant, I can never have kids. The doctor said I never could have kids so I was like That can’t be possible. Donna bought a test and she took me to the doctor’s. I took a test and I was like Nah, I ain’t pregnant. That’s bullshit.
Then I was back home with my mom. I didn’t know nothing. I just started getting fat in my face and she was like I don’t know, I think she’s pregnant, telling the social worker. And the social worker woke me up at nine o’clock in the morning. She said Get up! You gonna come and get a pregnancy test. Yeah right—I took off. And the next day she caught me and they came with a cop and made me go take a pregnancy test. Because I was under DCYF custody. Because my brothers were like out of control and I was running away.
So they made me take a pregnancy test. My mom was mad. That was hectic. I had to meet my baby’s dad finally, to kind of tell him that I don’t know how many months I am but I’m pregnant. I’ll meet you at the park. So I go to the doctor’s appointment and he’s like You’re seven months pregnant. I was like Yeah right. I was so skinny I can’t see it, I was too skinny. I wasn’t showing no stomach and all of a sudden I just popped out a stomach and got fat for no reason. I was like What the hell, I only got a few months and then I have my kid, that’s crazy! So I met him and he didn’t recognize me. I was thrilled. I got real big. My stomach was big. My face was big. So you can’t tell who I was. So I’m sitting in the park and he’s like Where is this chick? I don’t see her nowhere! Jennifer
Smashed. Shattered. Crushed. Crumpled. Battered. Pulverized. Devastated. Demolished. Dismantled. Ruined. Destroyed. Disintegrated. Fragmented. Sundered. Splintered. Divided. Cleft. Riven. Wrenched. Ripped. Snapped. Fractured. Split. Stove. Shredded. Minced. Pounded. Ground. Gutted. Burnt out. Toppled. Torn. Burst. Ruptured. Wrecked. Razed. Flattened. Wasted. Ravaged. Desolated. Obliterated. Eradicated. Annihilated. Decimated. Atomized. Expunged. Botched. Banjaxed. Bust. Kaput. Bollixed. Poleaxed. Torpedoed. Nuked. Zapped. Out of whack. Fritzed. Rubbed out. Written off. Done For. Shot. Blooey. Kerflooey. Totaled. Fucked.
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IN THE NECK
A woman felt a twitch in her neck and, putting up her hand, detected what seemed a tiny insect, a little clutch of eyelashes. She went to brush it away but her fingers knocked against something harder and more resistant. Surprised, she flicked more forcefully but instead of sending it flying to land with a satisfying crack on the tile floor (proof that it wasn’t lost in the soft dunes of the bed) it seemed to spread. Was it bleeding? Broken open somehow? She clamped her hand on it and felt fur. Spikes of hair shot through her spread fingers. Alarmed, she pulled at the thing and realized that what she was pulling was not its pelt or its back but a limb with a round paw and warm pads at the end. By now she was panting, swathed in animal like a coat she couldn’t shrug off. Her arms, which were weak, ached from being held up and all the pulling and yanking. She thought she’d have to give up some part of her body to get rid of it. The thing was now like a slug, moist and ridged and yielding to the touch. It was hard to get a grip on it. She dove her hands beneath the sludgy mass, striving to break the suction. Something gave and it pulled away, now a reptile, whipping its tail, and she forced it at arm’s length, jerking, through the hastily-opened door, slamming it closed and turning, cursing and spitting, wiping her neck with the pillow-case, before tunneling back down into sleep.
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THE CASE
The Accused represented himself
And being his own Accuser
Refused to plead,
Representing the case
Against rather than for
Himself.
Some say ably.
I am not among them.
The court was held in camera,
The Jury composed
Of the Accused, his Accuser—himself—
The Judge, who was also of course
the Accused
And the Executioner too.
This may all seem fantastic
But the Sentence was real.
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“Five to Ten” and “Fifteen” are from Jennifer’s Family (Amsterdam: Schilt, 2012), a photodocumentary project by Louisa Marie Summer, with texts by Mairéad Byrne from interviews by Mairéad Byrne and Louisa Marie Summer. “Broken” is from An Educated Heart (Palm Press, 2005).