As I said before, I cannot find out how to get everything straitened out on the forums when I write. I use the MLA format. For those of you who do not know what that is it is the desired writing format for most businesses and schools around the country. Anyway, This is not revised, again I plan to do that before publishing.
The rest of chapter one.
The beginning of chapter one.(So you aren't reading the same thing over)
The rest of chapter one.
We moved into a nice quiet area... well, quiet for being off of an intersection. They were blue townhouses that were connected to each other. I remember how disappointed I was when Taylor chose the downstairs room after I did and my mom told me, “Heat rises.” so that I would take the upstairs. After we had settled in I was enrolled into a local elementary school named Soap Creek. Brittney attended for a year before her Bipolar Disorder had taken in strongest hold on her. The major problem was not on campus, it was at home.
Taylor was always the first to return home from school and so he always opened the door for Brittney and me. On this particular day, though, Brittney was quite frustrated with something and that always meant that she would become a problem later on. About ten minutes after Taylor had let us in she wanted to walk to the store. Taylor told her to wait until Mama returned and she became even more disappointed. Me, being a child, walked past her and said “Ha, ha!” and she snapped. She pushed me and ran into the kitchen and grabbed a carving knife. My brother was downstairs doing homework this whole time.
She chased me around the main floor of our house. I still remember the look in her eyes. She looked as if she had a burning desire to fillet me and then fillet the the skin that had already been cut off but also she looked as if she were in pain, almost as if she was trying to stop but she could not. I ran downstairs and into the din next to Taylor's room and tried to slam the door shut but she was right behind me the whole time. Taylor ran in behind her and grabbed her around the waist to pull her back and pinned her to the wall next to the door and pulled the knife from her hand. He pushed her out of the din and slammed the door shut, locking her out.
Afterwards, he called my our mom and told her the events which took place. Her solution was to just stay in the din and wait until she arrived. That night, when she returned home, she called Papa and told him to come over so that the three of them could sit and have a conversation about what must be done. Brittney did not find the conclusive results to be to her liking. She was to be sent to an institution where she would be cared for by psychiatrists and nurses. She screamed as our mom and dad pulled her to the car the day after. She looked as if she had recently lost her best friend.
Two more years had passed since the incident with my sister; we had visited her often. Within this time, my mother had became very stressed as far as money problems from keeping Brittney institutionalized, keeping the bills paid and also keeping groceries in the house. When her suffering became more than she could bare she called my psychiatrists and asked her to look for a good family to take me away. I was only nine years old, almost ten and did not understand the just of the situation. In fact I had no Idea that she had make these arrangements until one day the doorbell rang.
Normally, mama would have asked Taylor and I to be on our best behavior for company. This time, however, she told Taylor to go down and stay entertained for a while. When she opened the door, there was an unfamiliar face. An averaged height white man with a mustache, a leather jacket and blue jeans stood in the doorway.
“Now, Mark, I want you to meet someone. He will be a new friend of yours,” Mama said, “This is Mr. Johnny Queen, he will be taking you home for a whole.”
“Well, hello. You must be the little champ Susan has been telling me so much about. How do you do?” The strange man asked with enthusiasm.
I looked up at Mama with a confused look on my face and said, “Okay,”
“Come on in, Johnny, and make yourself at home,” said my mother. “Would you like something to drink? Some tea maybe?”
“Ohhh, no ma'am I think I will be okay for now, I appreciate the gesture though,” He replied as he walked into our house and into the living room. He stood for a moment, looking around the room and finally took a seat in the sofa on the far wall in front of the wardrobe with the television playing in it. I walked into the kitchen where my mom had gone to get bottle of water.
“So am I going to his house tonight?” I asked with a whisper.
“Yes, now go in there and I will be in there in a moment,” she replied without even a glance.
As I made my way into the living room, Johnny, looked at me and smiled.
“Hey,” I said shyly.
“Hello, Mark. So what are your interests? Do you like movies?”
“Some... I guess.”
“Hear is something to think about. Do you know many sayings?”
“No... Well, I know one.”
“Yeah? What's that?”
At this time Mama had just entered the room and interrupted me with, “It sounds like you two are getting along pretty good.”
“I guess,” I replied.
“Oh, he's just shy,” said Johnny.
“Yes, he has always been the quiet type,” Mama told him. I just smiled and nodded.
“I'll fix that,” He said.
I looked at Mama as she took a seat next to him on the couch and whispered with a scared expression, “Am I going for good?”
“Well, Mark, I want you to understand that we still love you. I am not sure if this will be for a little while or for a long while. But this doesn't mean we won't see each other anymore,” she replied aloud.
“Do not worry, Mark,” Johnny said with a smile, “I's good people.”
“But... I thought I was your number one son,” I said with heartbreak in my eyes. I started to cry but managed to hold it back.
“Don't cry, Mark. I told you it's not forever.”
“Well, I think we better get goin',” Johnny explained. “My ride is outside waiting. It was very nice meeting with you again, Susan. And it is nice to meet you, Mark. We have a lot of bonding to do.”
“I don't want to go.” I told them.
“Mark, hear is some money. Johnny will surely buy you some ice cream on the way back to hos house.”
“Ice cream sounds good doesn't it, Mark?” Johnny said, trying to get me to come along.
“Okay,” I replied, sadly.
As I walked out the front door, Mama fallowing me, I looked to my left and saw a white car. An elderly man sat in the driver sear. When we walked over to the car, Johnny, tapped on the window and the man looked him in the eye. Johnny gave him a sign to roll down the window. I do not remember the man's name, though, Johnny had told me later on that he was a good friend. He opened the car door and stepped out.
“How do you do ma'am?” His voice boomed, as he held out a hand to Mama.
“Good n' you?” She replied, shaking his hand.
“I'm good,” he said looking my direction, “This must be little Mark.”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Well, lets get a move on before the Atlanta traffic get too unbearable,” Johnny, intervened politely.
After I had hugged my mom and gotten in the car, I saw Taylor come out and look at me. I almost could not stare back. He looked confused. He started talking to Mama as we began pulling out of the driveway. My feelings at that point in time were almost unbearable. I wanted to wail at the top of my lungs in emotional agony. But I did not. All I could picture was the life I had lead with the Howard family for almost nine years.
Taylor was always the first to return home from school and so he always opened the door for Brittney and me. On this particular day, though, Brittney was quite frustrated with something and that always meant that she would become a problem later on. About ten minutes after Taylor had let us in she wanted to walk to the store. Taylor told her to wait until Mama returned and she became even more disappointed. Me, being a child, walked past her and said “Ha, ha!” and she snapped. She pushed me and ran into the kitchen and grabbed a carving knife. My brother was downstairs doing homework this whole time.
She chased me around the main floor of our house. I still remember the look in her eyes. She looked as if she had a burning desire to fillet me and then fillet the the skin that had already been cut off but also she looked as if she were in pain, almost as if she was trying to stop but she could not. I ran downstairs and into the din next to Taylor's room and tried to slam the door shut but she was right behind me the whole time. Taylor ran in behind her and grabbed her around the waist to pull her back and pinned her to the wall next to the door and pulled the knife from her hand. He pushed her out of the din and slammed the door shut, locking her out.
Afterwards, he called my our mom and told her the events which took place. Her solution was to just stay in the din and wait until she arrived. That night, when she returned home, she called Papa and told him to come over so that the three of them could sit and have a conversation about what must be done. Brittney did not find the conclusive results to be to her liking. She was to be sent to an institution where she would be cared for by psychiatrists and nurses. She screamed as our mom and dad pulled her to the car the day after. She looked as if she had recently lost her best friend.
Two more years had passed since the incident with my sister; we had visited her often. Within this time, my mother had became very stressed as far as money problems from keeping Brittney institutionalized, keeping the bills paid and also keeping groceries in the house. When her suffering became more than she could bare she called my psychiatrists and asked her to look for a good family to take me away. I was only nine years old, almost ten and did not understand the just of the situation. In fact I had no Idea that she had make these arrangements until one day the doorbell rang.
Normally, mama would have asked Taylor and I to be on our best behavior for company. This time, however, she told Taylor to go down and stay entertained for a while. When she opened the door, there was an unfamiliar face. An averaged height white man with a mustache, a leather jacket and blue jeans stood in the doorway.
“Now, Mark, I want you to meet someone. He will be a new friend of yours,” Mama said, “This is Mr. Johnny Queen, he will be taking you home for a whole.”
“Well, hello. You must be the little champ Susan has been telling me so much about. How do you do?” The strange man asked with enthusiasm.
I looked up at Mama with a confused look on my face and said, “Okay,”
“Come on in, Johnny, and make yourself at home,” said my mother. “Would you like something to drink? Some tea maybe?”
“Ohhh, no ma'am I think I will be okay for now, I appreciate the gesture though,” He replied as he walked into our house and into the living room. He stood for a moment, looking around the room and finally took a seat in the sofa on the far wall in front of the wardrobe with the television playing in it. I walked into the kitchen where my mom had gone to get bottle of water.
“So am I going to his house tonight?” I asked with a whisper.
“Yes, now go in there and I will be in there in a moment,” she replied without even a glance.
As I made my way into the living room, Johnny, looked at me and smiled.
“Hey,” I said shyly.
“Hello, Mark. So what are your interests? Do you like movies?”
“Some... I guess.”
“Hear is something to think about. Do you know many sayings?”
“No... Well, I know one.”
“Yeah? What's that?”
At this time Mama had just entered the room and interrupted me with, “It sounds like you two are getting along pretty good.”
“I guess,” I replied.
“Oh, he's just shy,” said Johnny.
“Yes, he has always been the quiet type,” Mama told him. I just smiled and nodded.
“I'll fix that,” He said.
I looked at Mama as she took a seat next to him on the couch and whispered with a scared expression, “Am I going for good?”
“Well, Mark, I want you to understand that we still love you. I am not sure if this will be for a little while or for a long while. But this doesn't mean we won't see each other anymore,” she replied aloud.
“Do not worry, Mark,” Johnny said with a smile, “I's good people.”
“But... I thought I was your number one son,” I said with heartbreak in my eyes. I started to cry but managed to hold it back.
“Don't cry, Mark. I told you it's not forever.”
“Well, I think we better get goin',” Johnny explained. “My ride is outside waiting. It was very nice meeting with you again, Susan. And it is nice to meet you, Mark. We have a lot of bonding to do.”
“I don't want to go.” I told them.
“Mark, hear is some money. Johnny will surely buy you some ice cream on the way back to hos house.”
“Ice cream sounds good doesn't it, Mark?” Johnny said, trying to get me to come along.
“Okay,” I replied, sadly.
As I walked out the front door, Mama fallowing me, I looked to my left and saw a white car. An elderly man sat in the driver sear. When we walked over to the car, Johnny, tapped on the window and the man looked him in the eye. Johnny gave him a sign to roll down the window. I do not remember the man's name, though, Johnny had told me later on that he was a good friend. He opened the car door and stepped out.
“How do you do ma'am?” His voice boomed, as he held out a hand to Mama.
“Good n' you?” She replied, shaking his hand.
“I'm good,” he said looking my direction, “This must be little Mark.”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Well, lets get a move on before the Atlanta traffic get too unbearable,” Johnny, intervened politely.
After I had hugged my mom and gotten in the car, I saw Taylor come out and look at me. I almost could not stare back. He looked confused. He started talking to Mama as we began pulling out of the driveway. My feelings at that point in time were almost unbearable. I wanted to wail at the top of my lungs in emotional agony. But I did not. All I could picture was the life I had lead with the Howard family for almost nine years.
The beginning of chapter one.(So you aren't reading the same thing over)
A Watched Pot Never Boils
An Autobiography
By Michael Howard
Acknowledgment
To be honest, I was not going to write this. There are so many disappointments and tragedies and hurt. However, I have a few people to thank for inspiring me to put this story on paper. Taylor(my brother), Jeremy and Joe(The friends who never left me in the dark), my mom and dad, and the people on the Christan Gamers Alliance. Thank you all. Even though some of you have no idea why you were included I have my reasons. Much Trif love.
1
June 28, 1989, the year I was born. I don't know much about my past. I was told that when I was born, I was born into an evil house. From what I can remember I can understand why many people would say this. My biological mother was no less than a whore. There had been five children by her (myself included) and three other men. One girl and four boys, Justin being the oldest. Justin, he was the worst off simply because he happened to be old enough to remember what terrifying events took place before the state of Georgia took us away. One event I remember, it will never escape my mind in a million years, he was trying to reach up and grab some food off of my mother's plate (because who knows how long it had been sense we had last eaten) and she jumped up from the chair she was sitting in, threw the plate against the wall and grabbed poor Justin by the throat and pinned him to the wall. It is sad, ha, that I was only about one and a half years old and I remember something like this.
Yes, a house of evil. I do not doubt this. Three fathers, who I have only met one, and four siblings; Justin, who I have already mentioned, Brittney, who I have known for the longest out of the four and who is the second oldest, Jason coming in third and then Jonathan after myself. Justin, Jonathan and Jason I have never had an opportunity to actually form a relationship with. I currently have no information on their whereabouts. Britney, though, is living with my biological father. I have met him and he has, indeed, cleaned up his act. However, I disapprove of her decision. Her mind is clouded by Bipolar Disorder so she has a tendency to make rash decisions with no disregard for the consequences. I sound as if I am getting off track, however, I am simply bringing the fact to your attention that now the family has almost fallen apart at this point. I still have hope.
In July, 1991, I have no recollection of the events taking place, though, I have been told the story several times. The state of Georgia had taken us from that terrible home and set the five of us children up for adoption. It was not long after that a couple, who had a child the age of five, came into the agency and signed the papers to receive my sister and I. They owned a house in the Pinelog, GA Mountains. I remember so much from that home. When you enter the driveway you were instantly surrounded by beautiful trees and a gravel path lead the way for almost one forth of a mile to the carport. New people, who I have known ever sense as Grandmama and Grandfather, lived in a log cabin up the street. We visited often. One of my fondest memories of living in Pinelog was The Blizzard of 92. From what my adoptive parents have told me the blizzard caused most of the main roads to close down and the power to go out.
I remember my dad, Patric, and his brother, Uncle Michael, driving tractors up the driveway, moving snow as they progressed up the hill. I also remember the day after when my mom, Susan, took Taylor, Britney and I outside to play in the snow. I was only three but my mom tried to teach me how to make a snowman anyway. She was just that way and she still is. I remember Taylor throwing snowballs at the Redhouse. Redhouse was the name of our home. It is funny how such troubling times can bring families together.
In mid 1994, times started to become problematic as far as money. We were forced to move out and into a house on a street called Brooklyn Drive. This house was next to my mom's mother's house. The house was located in a nice neighborhood in Cartersville, GA. It was here that I began school for the first time. Cartersville Primary School was the name. Britney had been diagnosed with Bipolar one year prior to the move and my parents, I guess, assumed that I would be Bipolar as well. I was put on Lithium as well as my sister and I was put into Special Needs classes. I was young and was unaware of what “Special Needs” was. Years later I came to find out the meaning.
I do not remember much from my first year in in school, however, I do remember my second year enough to remember that I had one of the most renowned teachers in the Barto County School System. Her name was Mrs. Zimmer and she never gave up on me. Even after I the doctor said I had been diagnosed with ADD. For two years I attended Cartersville Primary School and then we moved again. Our destination was Marietta.
An Autobiography
By Michael Howard
Acknowledgment
To be honest, I was not going to write this. There are so many disappointments and tragedies and hurt. However, I have a few people to thank for inspiring me to put this story on paper. Taylor(my brother), Jeremy and Joe(The friends who never left me in the dark), my mom and dad, and the people on the Christan Gamers Alliance. Thank you all. Even though some of you have no idea why you were included I have my reasons. Much Trif love.
1
June 28, 1989, the year I was born. I don't know much about my past. I was told that when I was born, I was born into an evil house. From what I can remember I can understand why many people would say this. My biological mother was no less than a whore. There had been five children by her (myself included) and three other men. One girl and four boys, Justin being the oldest. Justin, he was the worst off simply because he happened to be old enough to remember what terrifying events took place before the state of Georgia took us away. One event I remember, it will never escape my mind in a million years, he was trying to reach up and grab some food off of my mother's plate (because who knows how long it had been sense we had last eaten) and she jumped up from the chair she was sitting in, threw the plate against the wall and grabbed poor Justin by the throat and pinned him to the wall. It is sad, ha, that I was only about one and a half years old and I remember something like this.
Yes, a house of evil. I do not doubt this. Three fathers, who I have only met one, and four siblings; Justin, who I have already mentioned, Brittney, who I have known for the longest out of the four and who is the second oldest, Jason coming in third and then Jonathan after myself. Justin, Jonathan and Jason I have never had an opportunity to actually form a relationship with. I currently have no information on their whereabouts. Britney, though, is living with my biological father. I have met him and he has, indeed, cleaned up his act. However, I disapprove of her decision. Her mind is clouded by Bipolar Disorder so she has a tendency to make rash decisions with no disregard for the consequences. I sound as if I am getting off track, however, I am simply bringing the fact to your attention that now the family has almost fallen apart at this point. I still have hope.
In July, 1991, I have no recollection of the events taking place, though, I have been told the story several times. The state of Georgia had taken us from that terrible home and set the five of us children up for adoption. It was not long after that a couple, who had a child the age of five, came into the agency and signed the papers to receive my sister and I. They owned a house in the Pinelog, GA Mountains. I remember so much from that home. When you enter the driveway you were instantly surrounded by beautiful trees and a gravel path lead the way for almost one forth of a mile to the carport. New people, who I have known ever sense as Grandmama and Grandfather, lived in a log cabin up the street. We visited often. One of my fondest memories of living in Pinelog was The Blizzard of 92. From what my adoptive parents have told me the blizzard caused most of the main roads to close down and the power to go out.
I remember my dad, Patric, and his brother, Uncle Michael, driving tractors up the driveway, moving snow as they progressed up the hill. I also remember the day after when my mom, Susan, took Taylor, Britney and I outside to play in the snow. I was only three but my mom tried to teach me how to make a snowman anyway. She was just that way and she still is. I remember Taylor throwing snowballs at the Redhouse. Redhouse was the name of our home. It is funny how such troubling times can bring families together.
In mid 1994, times started to become problematic as far as money. We were forced to move out and into a house on a street called Brooklyn Drive. This house was next to my mom's mother's house. The house was located in a nice neighborhood in Cartersville, GA. It was here that I began school for the first time. Cartersville Primary School was the name. Britney had been diagnosed with Bipolar one year prior to the move and my parents, I guess, assumed that I would be Bipolar as well. I was put on Lithium as well as my sister and I was put into Special Needs classes. I was young and was unaware of what “Special Needs” was. Years later I came to find out the meaning.
I do not remember much from my first year in in school, however, I do remember my second year enough to remember that I had one of the most renowned teachers in the Barto County School System. Her name was Mrs. Zimmer and she never gave up on me. Even after I the doctor said I had been diagnosed with ADD. For two years I attended Cartersville Primary School and then we moved again. Our destination was Marietta.
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