![]() I started screaming at the top of my lungs, telling him how much I hated him and that I’d never forgive him. I promised to be the best girl possible if he let me leave. I begged and pleaded, telling him that these people were weird and we needed to go. The group of girls held me as he approached and told me that this was my new home. I had a million thoughts and feelings going through my mind, but the main one was, there was no way in hell I was staying here.Īfter six hours, I saw my dad emerge. They sat me in the center and listed out a bunch of rules. I was taken to a basement where they set up a circle of chairs. I began to fight and they threw me to the ground. He called me “young lady” in a strange voice and told me I was going with these girls willingly or by force. There was a man in the corner who grabbed my shoulders and turned me around. I tried to open the door but the doorknob just kept spinning. My dad disappeared into another room as I began yelling. I looked up and noticed a group of girls standing in front of me. We approached an unfamiliar building and went in. When we arrived, my dad told me to leave my belongings in the car. It was a long drive so I slept most of the way. Louis and headed to my cousin's house where my grandma was staying. My grandma was the one person who understood me. Even though it had been months since we'd spoken, I was excited. My dad heard about a host of scenarios I'd gotten myself into - including a bank fraud incident and run-ins with the police - and suggested we get out of town for a few days to see my grandma. The downside was that the blinders were off, and once that happens as a kid, there is no longer an illusion of the world being a good place. This taught me to be very independent at a young age. Sleeping on the conference table and being watched by employees became a regular thing until I became old enough to be by myself. Meanwhile, my mom’s job at the sexual assault treatment center meant I was exposed to quite a bit at a young age, hearing and seeing things that most adults couldn't handle. My friends refused to come over and referred to my dad’s place as the Richter House of Hell. I never felt like I belonged and was constantly walking on eggshells. I went from having my own room, to sharing it with a baby and an older step-sister. My step-mom had two daughters, and was expecting one more with my dad. When my dad remarried shortly after the divorce, Cinderella became less of a fairy tale and more of my real life. They had been married over ten years before I came along, and only made it a few more years after that. I grew up in South Florida with an ex-military accountant for a father and a mother who was a former police detective and director of a sexual assault treatment center.
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