When I was six years old, I was removed from my mother’s care with no chance of going to my father. The child protective services placed me with my Aunt. As a child I was told things about my mother, that were extremely negative and insulting. I was told that she did not care about me nor my siblings and overtime I become to believe it. Having to deal with an experience like this caused a lot of bottled up anger. I was so caught up with what people portrayed as “facts” that weren’t necessarily true, I was blinded by the inequality that was going on in the household.

My cousin (her granddaughter) received our benefits from the government money in which my aunt was given in monthly payments. These payments consisted of four…for each of my siblings and I. We were not fully aware of the situation and the information that was released to us was not even half true. I was manipulated and treated differently from my own family, so I distanced myself. I decided to deal with my own feelings. I eventually turned into a short fuse until my older sibling left. I believe everything I was told my aunt until that single moment. I finally found out the slight truth. A moment in my life where I faced a bit of reality…I wanted to know more as I saw more of the unjust events took place.

I became more alone regardless of my second youngest sibling, whom I am pretty close with. I felt lost and my hatred towards my mother grew more disrespectful. My words were the most horrible things I have ever said. I hated myself just as much. The start of six grade is when my insecurities started to roll in and I was detached from the rest of the world. I began to hate everything even being black. The lying became worse. But I only did what I was told. It seemed like a safer way for me to go with what my Aunt told me to say because of “what would happen” if I told them the “truth”.

Eventually I started thinking about killing myself and thought of plans. I performed some acts of harm but never ones that were permanent. I started to associate myself with sexual activities in which minors should not be doing. I could care less about myself. I was an easy target, so to speak.

I got caught up in exploiting my body to men. All exchange for what I thought was love but really was temporary confidence. It was a habit I dedicated my time to. I was only twelve. I am ashamed of myself for that reason. Physically a Virgin to everything but mentally I was not. I allowed myself to be taken advantage of, to be preyed upon, to have my body be exposed to the eyes of libido induced men. I never got along with people my age and if I ever had any friends… it was only a year until they would take the nearest exit out my life. So I had myself. I continued my habit regardless of being caught.

My aunt was taken into legal custody and I moved around from there. The people that took care of me, made my aunt look like a Good Samaritan. I was mentally, emotionally, and physically abused. I endured it all by crying myself to sleep and beating my body by my own hands. My other Aunt (my previous aunt’s sister), had took custody of us and it was a repeat of both lives I had lived before.

I was told I would go to hell for wanting to kill and hurting myself. I was called a narcissist, coward, and whore. She knew I had insecurities, yet she continued on with this routine. I was choked by the partner of my aunt. I wished she would have killed me then. I had to stay quiet about it. I had to keep the fact my sibling was being beaten almost every day because he was just a child who wanted some freedom.

We talked about running away for two years. I’d always talk myself out of it. I’ve informed many of my teachers and counselor only to have CPS show up at the home and which we were being abused at. She already had us lie in court, to social workers, and other authorities of that matter. Once again, I did what I was told. I denied what was said. Three times. Nothing seemed to be working, no matter how many hints… how much proof. How raw my emotions I displayed? I wasn’t getting out of the house unless I obtained a voice of my own. And so, I did.

I planned to run away with my siblings and we are runaways to this day. I have not disclosed any information of my being because I don’t want to be found at the moment. The people who are trying to get us, aren’t doing anything because of a particular person and I’m unsure what to do now. I want to leave the country and live with my boyfriend out in England, but I cannot leave my siblings, nor do I have the money for it. I’m mentally incapable of handling everything going on right now. I’m scared for my future.

Child protective services is not only being corrupted by its employees, it’s being corrupted by the foster parents as well. These foster parents, like mine, are taking children as paychecks and instilling fear in them from telling the truth by spewing lies and manipulating them. These children are at stake, as they can undergo permanent trauma from being put into situations like mine. I know this because I’m dealing with them on a daily basis. I just want my story to be shared so that my siblings can still save their future while they have that ability. Surely, I’m done for, I’ll be 18 pretty soon.