Now, I don’t remember much. I was three. I know I cried a lot and my mom was always doped up, but that’s not my fault. That’s just about all I remember…I cried and she was goofy. I remember how my dad beat me. I remember being shut up in the horse stall for days and days. It seemed like forever. He locked up me and my brother. And he did worse stuff to us too. I’m not sure I wouldn’t shoot him if I ran into him today. By the time I was six, mom had been gone a long time and I just couldn’t live with my dad any more. I told on him [to the authorities] and we got taken away. My brother hated me for that.
My brother went to another foster home and I came here to Boys’ Haven. He thought he got it better. But I took one look at this place and I loved it. It was clean, man was it clean, and it looked rich to me. I mean I had my own room, and we ate at a special time, and we had books and people looking after us and checking up on us. The other guys would be like, this place is like jail, and I was plain ol’ happy. I couldn’t get over that we could go to the store or the movies. They even took us to the zoo and to ballgames. It was the best time I ever had.I know I have some problems and I can’t learn real easy or keep my room or my school stuff in any kind of order, but I’m a lot better now than when I came. Ask my counselor and see if I’m not better. And I can be better than this. I’m not ashamed to tell anybody that I just cry sometimes when my counselor is working with me. I don’t know what would have happened to me if I hadn’t come here. But here I am now after living three years at Boys’ Haven, and I got an apartment and a job and I still get helped by Boys’ Haven. I got it good, man!
