Becoming A Teenager

Once my parents' second divorce was finalized, life changed drastically. I was 12 years old. I was happy that they were divorced. It had become apparent that if they remained married, we would lose them both! One of my parents would have ended up dead if they had stayed together back then, and it was getting to the point that I wasn't sure which one it would be. Remember the movie "The Burning Bed" ? It was a movie from the early 80's, I believe, about a woman that was severely abused and the only way out was to kill her husband. She got him drunk, poured gasoline on and around his bed, lit a match and got into the car with her kids and drove away. She was found not guilty in court, and I just knew that was what was going to happen in my house.
My father had spent 15 years making sure my mother was too afraid to leave him. Then, one day, when he had been sober for about 6 months, mom didn't come home after work. The next day, she came in and told him it was just too little too late. He had cheated on her and beat her for so long, that she couldn't trust that it wouldn't happen again. I never saw my dad in that much pain in his life. He just packed his clothes in his truck, and he left. I was happy and sad. I loved my dad as much as I loved my mom. I had been taught that alcoholism is a disease, and it's "not his fault" or "he wasn't himself". My life was like one of those PBS After School specials they used to run in the 80's. I was gonna miss my dad, but at least I wouldn't lose him completely like I would if he killed my mom or she killed him.
I remember this school counselor insisted that I have appointments with him. I got in a fight with a chick, it had absolutely nothing to do with my parents divorce, and so they decided that I was depressed and needed to "talk". This is where I became a "misfit". You see, before the fight occurred, I had been an "egghead". I got along with everyone, but remained a loner, but if I had been put into a category, Nerd would have been the one. Social Status: Terminally Broke. Older siblings had been in the same school, so my last name might have well been "Delinquent". I was a straight A student, usually didn't have to open a book, just remembered everything I had heard and seen in class, and passed all of my classes. That didn't qualify a person to hang with the "cool crowd" in my area. I got picked on a lot by one group of kids. I had been beaten up about three times by this group, they would never come at me one at a time. I was walking home from school, and they were about 1/2 a block behind me. One of them ran up to where I was and hit me. I turned around and hit her back, and all of a sudden, I hear a familiar voice, "if you don't whip her ass now Billie, I'm gonna kick your ass when we get home, .... and if any of you other little bitches get involved, I'M gettin involved." It was my mom....LOL.... I was like Rocky, I kicked the shit outta that little bitch, and now I was cool. The best part was that everyone knew my mother had ORDERED me to beat that girls' ass.
My mom's new boyfriend, was actually my older brothers dad. They had ran back into each other, and I had never seen my mother so happy in any memory that I had. He was cool. He taught me a lot in a very small time. He was a 4th degree black belt, and he taught me and my sister how to defend ourselves. Mom spent a lot of time at his house. By this time, my brother was 18, and we had become "'friends". As long as he shared his beer, whiskey, wine, whatever he was drinking, we wouldn't tell mom he was having parties when she was gone. He agreed, as long as we stayed upstairs and didn't bother his friends. This was accomplished through an old heater vent in the floor above the dining room. The bottom of the vent had been long gone, so the top would just lift out and it was big enough for a small child to fit through. I would pound three times on the floor, and my brother would produce a couple beers. 
One night, my dad called. He was drunk and angry. It had been about 8 months since he had moved. We saw him on the weekends, but this was a bad night. He told my mother to watch her back, "if I can't have you, no body can." Then he told her he didn't want to see those "bastard children" ever again. My mom told him that she would not tell us that and he would have to tell us himself. She handed me the phone, and he told me I was no longer his daughter and to enjoy my "new daddy". My heart broke in a million pieces, and I was PISSED! I was 12 and 1/2  years old, and my father had dumped me.
Wayne did everything he could to help me and my sister. He included us in everything that he could. We even tore a house down by hand. He was teaching us different martial arts techniques, we were allowed to take out our aggressions with sledge hammers and saws. We destroyed that house, and we enjoyed every minute of it. The house was one that he had bought for the property. It was a mess to start with. He wanted to build a Do Jo and teach kids how to defend themselves. The plans were awesome, but it never happened. My mom and Wayne were engaged to be married, we sold the house my mom and dad owned, and moved to a big farm house that they were going to buy together. About a 2 months after we moved into the house, Wayne was violently murdered. Life would never be the same again.