The Move

Part II

I remember moving into J’s house. Bringing my cat in her carrier, my belongings. My room had been painted a light mint green. It was half finished, furnished by my Mom & Dad’s old bedroom set. It smelt musty and old, had a huge hole in the sheetrock in the closet, and had a large gap between the sheetrock on the walls and the floors. I did what I could to make it mine, without putting any holes in the wall (Something J was very strict about). Decorating my mirror with pictures of me and my friends and stickers, decorating every surface in my room to express myself anyway I could. Johnny’s room was upstairs with my Mom & J’s room. Austin’s room was off the kitchen, and mine was next to the bathroom. (Important information for later!!)

I'll summarize the next two years for all of us -- J love bombed all of us in the beginning. Things were okay for the first year or two. Buying us expensive gifts for holidays, including me in picking out my Mom's Christmas presents. Taking us to do things. I started to trust him. Things didn’t seem so bad. It sucked being away from my friends and family, but it was nice to see my Mom happy.

At some point after we moved in, Johnny called asking to come live with J. Prior to this, he would come stay in the summer and go back for school in the fall. Things weren’t great in Florida with this mother from what we were told, and it happened. He moved in, and there were 5 of us. It was an adjustment for all of us. There were times where Johnny was horrible to Austin, and others when he was sweet and caring towards him. 

We spent the summers getting babysat by our neighbor. She would bring her siblings over and we would all hang out. Johnny and I would take Tupperware containers and go walk to the trails behind the house where blackberries grew wild on bushes. We’d pick them, and eat half of them before even making it back to the house. This is when we started to bond, and gain more of the sibling relationship. We went through the typical sibling phase -- him being the annoying younger brother that did things to purposely get a rise out of me. Johnny and Austin looooved to gang up on me, even if their relationship hadn't fully developed yet. But it was all in good fun, and usually ended in all of us laughing. However, it was very hot and cold between the two of them at times.

There was an instance that I heard Johnny and Austin fighting, and then a scuffle. I went into Austin’s room to find Johnny on top of Austin, hands wrapped around his neck. Austin's face was bright red. I immediately ran over, pulled Johnny off of Austin, and slammed his head into the wall. I was filled with so much rage. At the moment, I definitely thought Johnny was a psycho. Young me was always extremely protective of Austin and he just almost killed my brother. However, now as an adult, it makes me wonder exactly what Johnny went through prior to us knowing him. Where he had learned that behavior, where all of his rage came from, and how badly he must have been hurting inside.

Natchaug River, 2009 (Ashley 13, Johnny 12, Austin 9)

A lot of this time is a blur for me except for a few memories, but things started to change around that 2 year mark.

My Mom and J had been engaged for some time, but still hadn’t gotten married. Every time someone brought it up, he'd make "jokes" about how if they got married, "she could leave me and take half my shit like a typical woman". This is one of the first occasions we saw his true colors.

Another instance in this time frame was at my Mama's house. We were having Sunday dinner together and J made a comment to me or Austin at the table. My Papa looked him dead in the eyes and said, "You're a fucking asshole". I remember the car ride home, and J being PISSED that my grandfather had said that to him, complaining to my Mom about the way he had been talked to.

At this time is when I noticed J’s drinking. Every night, he would have a glass of Scotch on the coffee table in the living room. Some nights it would just be one glass… others it would be 3 or 4. But regardless, it would be every day. He would stink of scotch and body odor at dinner, and I had to sit right next to him every night. This was when my anxiety started.

J always seemed irritable, and after seeing a couple outbursts towards Johnny for "saying stupid shit", I didn't want to get that wrath next. So I kept my mouth shut. I kept my eyes on my plate, or at my brother across the table, and did what I had to do to make it through without any issues.

It was always justified away -- bad day at work, tired, knee hurt, etc.. There was always an excuse for his behavior. And I tried to understand. But, little did I know, it was going to get worse, and it wasn't ever going to get better.