Shocking and Inspiring Story of a Teen Who Survived Unimaginable Violence, Rape and Prison Cruelty

http://www.alternet.org/books/one-womans-story-egregious-human-rights-abuses-us-prisons



***SNIP

Finally I ran away, but the cops found me two days later. My mom and Steve had to come get me from the jail. They were all excited to see me until I got in the car. I begged the cops to drive me home, because I knew what would happen as soon as I got in the car. As soon as we got out of that parking lot, oh Jeeze oh Petes, Steve swung back with his hand and hit me in the side of the head. I thought for sure my head was going to go through the window. My mom just sat there and did nothing.

It Was Like It Didn't Really Happen

When I was fifteen, Steve kept kicking me out and then reporting me as a runaway. Finally, I got sick of it. I said, “the hell with this. You’re not beating me any more, you’re not shooting windows out and making me lay in the glass any more. You’re not going to make me lay down and sleep with your brother any more.” I’d had enough by that point. The next time he kicked, I just took off.

I ran away to Grand Rapids to stay with my boyfriend Chuck. Chuck sold drugs for Steve in Grand Rapids, and we’d been together since I was twelve. He didn’t want to sell for Steve any more because he kept seeing how Steve was abusing me. He’d been there through all of it, seeing all the bruises, the cuts, the stitches, just all kinds of stuff. He wanted to get back at Steve for all the dirt that he had done to me, and you know, it sounded good to me—I wanted to get back at him, too. So we had this idea of going back to my mom and Steve’s house, breaking into the storage area where he kept his stuff, and taking it.

We called Chuck’s mom, who lived about two miles through the woods to my mom and Steve’s, and she told us that they were gone for the weekend at a family reunion. We thought, Great, we’ll go see Chuck’s mom and sister, and then break into Steve’s storage shed and take his money. We knew he had bills in a briefcase in the back of a car that he kept in storage, plus we knew he stored his marijuana there.