[Wildfire1992]

It's obvious. I was depressed. I was tired of being different. So I began a journey that continuous to this day, a journey to understand who I am.
Maybe at this point I was taking some kind of pleasure in being different, or maybe just more comfortable with it, or maybe the things that happened my senior year of high school just happened. Anyway, I started liking woman. Or maybe it was better termed as, I had always liked woman, but I never stopped until that year to think maybe I was gay. That year I did though, when I started crushing on this on one my girl friends, Rhiannon. In late fall I temporarily broke up with Leif to pursue Rhiannon, who didn't want me in that way. Even still I protected her.
In the fall of my senior year I met a ghost. I know it sounds crazy, which was I say it simply and bluntly. From there though, my journey changed. Instead of focusing on who other people wanted me to be I tried to start focusing on who I wanted to be. So I met a ghost. I may be crazy, but as long as I'm not hurting anyone else who gives a damn, was I told myself. I still however struggle with the, not being like everyone else thing today.
Anyway, the ghosts name was Stacy though at first she gave me a different name. Stacy had committed suicide in the Boone High School auditorium. I became obsessed with the ideal of her because my own personal suicide thoughts. I would talk to her through a wiccan friend (her mom was a ghost hunter) named Alexis. One night after Alexis and I had been up in the catwalk with Rhiannon, she said we need to head down. I moved at snail's pace, not intentionally but just because I didn't want to leave.
"They're really attached to each other." Alexis commented, and Rhiannon agreed.
So they 'bound' her to me as a guide. Honestly I did think I was going crazy for a bit. I mean like come on. Magic? Sprit Guides? Me feeling other people's emotions? Talking to dead people? I did some research on Stacy's suicide, searching through hours and hours of newspaper reels, then I found what I was looking for. An old Boone newspaper article on her death in my very same high school. From that time on I leaned to have a bit more faith in myself and the unseen, though I continue to test it.
This formerly, straight little Christian girl (who had known nothing else but the Christian faith) started looking for answers. I interviewed people who practiced New Age religions, ghost hunters, read books, endlessly questioned Rhiannon and Alexis and did tons of online research. In winter, while surfing the web for more information about meditating to meet sprit guides, I thought I had met one named Lance, I came across a site named, 'Spiritual Forums.' A site which included a hundreds of members but in which a close group of them were regular visitors to the chat room. It was in this chat that I would meet a Kiwi (person from New Zeland) teacher by the username of Loveyduck.
Our relationship was a fateful attraction, that was special back then and is even more special now. Back then I was hyper, and very unsocial at times, but despite that she took a liking to me; and I an even bigger liking to her. At the time, she was one of the closet people I could talk to.
In time, I learned what being and empath meant and that I was one. In other words I had the 'gift' to sense other's energies and emotions. Gift wasn't my choice or words, I preferred curse. But I learned what I could about it, and even started to like it, regardless of the non existence of control I had over it. Soon, I was learning the ability to talk to my guides without the use of meditation. I knew a lot by the winter of my senior year, just a few months after I had met Stacey the ghost. And then, my family life took a turn, and I pushed all of it away.
It was January and I was 17 years old. Iowa, this year had been struck by one of the worse winter and ice storms and large percentage of the Des Moines Metro area had no power, school had almost a week of snow days. At the house, our power had gone out the night before and Dad had brought home a kerosene heater. I had slept on the couch beside it, because my bedroom was too cold to sleep in. In the morning I woke up to my parents screaming and the front door slamming. Used to it, I thought nothing else of it, rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.
Last that day at school, I got called down to the office from my computer class. I was scared walking down stairs because of my past. All the times I had gotten in trouble and sent to the office as a kid. Now whenever I was called, or a cop looked at me, I often panicked and tried to remember if I had done anything wrong lately.
My mother was in the office, waiting for me. She was taking me home, so that my dad couldn't come and get me and she wouldn't say anymore than that. I was upset, because I didn't understand why she was keeping me away from my dad. I tried questioning her about it but she wouldn't say anymore. The way she made it sound, was that my dad had left her. She must have figured out I was upset because on the way home she let me listen to my CD in the car and bought me a Big Mac at McDonalds. That did not help me feel better, it was the same old ****, she had always done.

School was cancelled the next few days after that because of the ice and the power outages. Between our road being blocked and no internet access to even begin to try and contact my dad, I felt trapped. I fell into a deep depression. I ate very little and spent all of my time in a quiet blur playing video games and reading George Oswald's '1982.'
One day, my dad and Granddad came with a cop so that he could get some of his clothes. When I went to hug him the cop grabbed me and kept demanding that I go into a different room from my father. It was obvious that he thought my dad was an abusive jerk. I remember shortly before they left, the cop was being sympathetic to my mom, I wanted to shout: 'you leaving me with the abusive person and taking my protector away.'
I would learn later, why my dad couldn't contact me in anyway. Mad after that fight that morning, my mom had called the police and told them that she was 'in fear for her life.' That day, at work, my father was served with papers, that banned him from coming to his home without so much as a toothbrush or contacting me or my mother in anyway.
When I headed back to school I was desperate to try anything to get my dad back. So signed up for the one thing that dad had always wanted me to do. I joined the United States Air Force. It wasn't really wanted to do, but I never looked back.
My parents court arrived at the beginning of February, this hearing would determine what was to be done with me, and whether or not I would have the right to talk to or see my father. My mom acted very kind the morning before we went. She took me to the local bakery and tried to buy me something to eat. I only drank an orange juice, I didn't want to eat. I felt sick and nervous, worried that I wouldn't be able to see my dad again. She didn't understand.
We went and talked to my mom's lawyer first.
Lawyer: Have you ever seen you dad hit your mom?
Me: No.
Lawyer: Has your dad ever hit you?
Me: No
That made me angry. Did my mother really think that I was going to sit here and lie about my father and she had robbed me of him? After all that she had done to me?
We went to the court house after that, and for the first time in three weeks I got to see my dad. I eagerly showed him my Air Force Application, which I had brought just for that purpose. He was proud of me and said so, something I didn't hear often during my childhood.
Both my dad and my mom's lawyers intent was to put me on the witness stand, but when my mom's lawyer realized it wouldn't go well for him or his client they choose not to. In their words they said they didn't, 'want to see a child tear down her mother.' So the court decided that I was old enough to decide who I wanted to see and who I wanted to live with.
By the next day I was staying with my dad in his 5th wheel camper at campground about an hour from my school. I preferred it, even though it was cold. It didn't last long though, within a month my dad received permission from the fourth to move back into the house. He moved into the guest room, while my mom bought a key and locked herself in the master bedroom, coming our rarely.
Prom night came and my dad was the one who took me to get my nails and hair done and was the one who saw me out the door with my date. My mom was on a date with one of her new guy pals. Eventually she even stopped taking me to school.
One night my dad picked me up after school. He started off my saying, "Don't freak out when we get home and go inside the house."
When we got there I understood why. My mom was gone and so was my dad's dog Aubrey; the washer and dryer; refrigerator; couch and the master bedroom. She took a nativity scene that my grandparents had made for me during my first Christmas, that was supposed to be given to me in the future, as well as a coffee table my parents themselves had given me. Both dad and me had started locking out doors in response to her locking, and she had broken both of them, maybe just to prove she could.
Two more weeks passed and I graduated from high school. My grandparents came up to watch with my dad. My mom, didn't show up, and I couldn't help the anger I felt because she had traveled several hours to watch my half-sister's. It was a good day thought. I got to drive by myself for the first time, and I admit I went speeding down that country road way to fast with "Summer of '69" playing on the radio. It was pure freedom. After the ceremony, I made a dinner for my family of taco pie and unwrapped my first TV. No call from my mom.
Less than a week later, I turned 18. I had Rhiannon and Alexis over and we went to Adventurland a local theme park. The night before, while my dad went into town, we took some kerosene and matches up to the top of a hill in our pasture. There I burned ever picture and card from my mother and half-sister that I had. No call from my mom.
My mom called my dad plenty to fight with him. My dad recorded them, so the courts could hear later, and would often play them back for me and his new girlfriend Mel who had recently moved in with us. During those calls she never asked about or mentioned me.
Then one day in late June, she did. She wanted to have dinner with me. I didn't want to go, but I did on a mission; I wanted to try and get my dad's dog, Aubrey back. She took me to Subway and I acted as chipper as casual I could, not wanting her to know my plan. I asked if I could see Aubrey. My acted friendly, as though this was a regular lunch between a mother and her daughter. Like she hadn't missed the three biggest events of my senior year in high school. Finally I could take it no more.
"You missed my graduation." I accused, amazingly calm for how mad I was.
"No I was there, " She claimed, "I just didn't want to cause a problem."
I took a moment to digest that. I wanted to yell and scream at her and show the whole word what a fake and lier she was but I just froze. There was an easy way to tell if she was lying or not. My high school colors had been green and red but our graduation robe colors had been red for the females and black for the males.
"Gaudy robes weren't they? Red and Green?' I asked casually.
"Yeah," She agreed in an oblivious lie before quickly changing the subject.
I was angry, but I didn't show my anger in the restaurant. Maybe that's just something you learn from fear of having a towering woman stomping towards you to cause you pain. I was quiet while we finished eating and the quite while she drove me home.
When we arrived Dad was out front watering the flowers. Mom and I got out, me walking to the front porch and her to my father. She wanted some kitchen supplies that she had forgotten, including an expensive Taste of Homes cookbook. Something that she still doesn't have, and which I keep as a troupy for victory against her. But anyway, my dad told her, 'no,' and that she had taken enough from us already. She wanted to go into the house, but my dad said no to that to, mainly because his girlfriend was in there and mom didn't know about her yet. A fight broke out between them and then my mother made her usual threat, 'I'm going to call the police on you.' She locked herself in her car and began to dial on her cell phone.
My dad turned to me. "Kim, call the cops." He said simply.
I nodded, this was payback and it was personal. No more would I be her victim. I knew why I had to be the one to call them to. Our house was located in a low spot and cell phone service was hard to get. I ran into the house, to see Mel sitting on the floor in the hallway, hiding from my mother in a spot where she could hear the conversation outside.
"Give me your phone," I demanded.
"I can't get a connection. There's no single," She replied.
"I know, I'm going to the hill." I pointed to the back of the house.
The hill was located in the pasture behind the house, blocked by trees so that my mom wouldn't see what I was doing and being the highest point on the property, was a sure place to catch a cell single. Mel gave me her phone and I hurried out the backdoor, across the backyard, across the creek and up onto the hill. Is it ironic that this is the same place I burned her pictures. A woman answered the phone and I explained to her what was happening. She told me the Sheriff's were on their way.
When I was done I headed back to the porch, going down the same way I had come. I sat down in one of the rockers and waited. Perhaps it was wrong what I chose to do next. I was angry at everything she had done to me. Or maybe, it was because of years ago when the police couldn't do anything because there had been no marks. But there, that day, without making too much movement I used my nails to scratch my arm. And when dad came to the front porch to sit beside me to wait, I told him what I was going to do.
"Dad. I'm going to press charges on her. I want a restraining order placed on her so she can't be near me anymore. I don't want to see her ever again."
My dad nodded and we made our story about what had happened. Keeping close to the truth but adding in her physically grabbing me by the arm. I justified it in my head like this: "She's hurt me plenty of times before, I'm only changing the time and the place."
When the cops got there for once they were on our side. My mother was not allowed to come into the house to get the things she wanted. Photos were taken of my arm and my dad and I filled out witness papers. The next day I went to the courthouse and filled out the restraining order papers. For once she was served with them. Despite my anger with her and my dad's approval, I still often felt like the daughter from hell.
The summer passed and I quickly learned not to like Mel very much either. she was using my dad, and I tried to tell him that but he didn't listen to me or my grandma, much later, he would find out the hard way. In August I left for boot camp. The night before, I sent a internet message to my friend Loveyduck who I hadn't talked to for several months because of everything else that had been happening. Boot camp started out bad and didn't get any better. I did get to ride on a place for the first time which I loved.
I was 18. We landed in San Antonio, Texas, me and three other requites from the Des Moines area. The girl would end up in my flight. One of the guys would end up in our brother flight and the last guy I would never see again. Funny how you can remember people you only see for a few moments.
I don't think any of us expected for them to be waiting for us at the airport, but they were. We were seen quickly and hurried into two lines, one on each side of the hallway. Woman on the left, men on the right. A girl, further down the line from me, was yelled at for having something in her hand and I discreetly dropped the National Geographic I had bought in Des Moines to read on the plane, under a bench. I hated wasting it, but I did not want to get caught.
It was, for all of us, like we had stepped into a whole new world. On that other side of that bend in the hallway was freedom. The airport closing down for the night. People going home. And on this side was about a hundred new requites, most of them about 18 to 24 getting their first taste of military life. Being "broken in" by a handful of TI's (Training Instructors).
One of the TI's finally gave us instructions. We were to take out our cell phones, call a family member and or guardian and tell them we had arrived safely to Texas and then hang up. One of them saw me not doing it and asked me why, or maybe yelled rather. I told him it was because I didn't have a phone. He had me use the girl's next to me. I was technologically dumb back then so never figured out how to dial on it, so I faked my way through a conversation.
Next we were called up one by one to a desk, given a manila envelope (later I would learn were requiting papers) and then were to take a seat in the next section of hallway. Through this whole process I did my best to not be noticed. They then loaded us onto the bus. The TI told us that we could use these last ten minutes during the trip to use our phones to call whomever or listen to music. I used somebody else's phone and had them help me call my dad. We didn't say much, I was trying to be brave for him. After we hung up I located my mp3 player. I remember playing "Mama" by My Chemical Romance trying to build up courage for what I was about to face.