School days, School days, dear old golden rule days

I remember one day in my life when I realized that the older children in my family went to school. It was the first day of school the year before I got to go. I remember my mother getting them off to the bus and I wanted to go with them. She said I couldn't go till next year. That's all I remember till the next year when I got to go.

Don't know what I wore that first day and I really don't remember riding the bus, all I can remember is standing in line near the Kindergarten class door. I went to St. Mary's school and the Kindergarten class had their own entrance off the playground. I had the same nun that was always the Kindergarten teacher. She was only about 4 1/2 feet tall so I guess that's why she took that class. Being the fifth child my family name was well known to all the nuns in school.

Of course I don't remember any good times there which always bothers me. I remember the times I was made to feel bad. They seemed to be the important things that my personality wants to point out. Believe me I wish that I could remember something good. It seems that as long as I was left alone with my self nothing got recorded in my brain. Yet I guess for this project that's all that wants to come out. My stories of when I felt bad.

I do remember meeting other kids my age and I guess I made a few friends there. A few we can still remember and again what I remember is when I was hurt mostly. A few of the neighborhood children where in my grade which was great because I didn’t feel so alone.

I can still picture the day that we where learning colors I guess. The teacher must have told us to color a box a certain color and the next thing I knew she was mad because I hadn't listened and gone ahead and colored the next box whatever color I wanted. I remember something about yellow. She told me to go stand in the corner. Which I can still picture in my mind. There was a dollhouse there and it was hard to fight the urge to play house. It seemed like I was there for a long time. I didn’t have a word for the feelings I felt then. My best guess would be one of my first feelings of embarrassment. And also the first crush to my creative ability. The lesson I had to learn was to follow directions.

Then the challenge of spelling your name. I didn't understand why some other kids already knew how to do that. I guess with simple names like John, Mary, Susan and the like they where easy. I also would have thought thinking back that if the other children had come home with the same task the years before how come my mother hadn't prepared me for this. I didn't have a simple name and I had to go home and learn how to spell Jacqueline that night. I still spell it in my head whenever I have to write it out. Jac-que-line so I learned it and have never forgot it. I didn’t always use it but I did know how to spell it. Of course the name is much prettier to me now as an adult but it was not fun when I was young. I don’t remember when I learned the nickname Jackie for it because up until a couple of years ago my mother still called me Jacqueline. I can't remember when my friends started calling me Jackie either. I think it was when I got to girl scouts.

The only other thing I remember about Kindergarten was in music class one day. The teacher was having us sing the national anthem and I raised the octave so I could sing it easier. Well next thing I knew she wanted whom ever was singing like that to stop. Of course it was I and I felt embarrassment again and I guess I learned that I had no singing talent. But some one inside me had the knowledge on how to change octaves in music long before I did. Somehow the school year came and went and I made it to the first grade.

First grade was much more fun because I learned how to read. And I seemed to do well reading stories. I remember reading so many lives of the saints. I don't know why they kept my interest other then the fact that they to where people that others made fun of and after they where gone people recognized what they did and praised them. Joan of Ark had to be one of my favorites. She lived in her own world and heard voices, which made people, think she was crazy and of course they burned her at a stack for being a witch. Lesson learned, Don't talk about any voices or seeing visions. Good lesson to learn when you are 6 years old. Didn't have enough knowledge to know whether or not I should mention that I related to her.

There was one good thing that happened that year. When the second grade class was getting ready for their first communion the first grade class had the task of choosing a girl to be May queen of sorts. On that day she got to put a crown of flowers on the statue of Mary in the front of the church. Our teacher put our names in a box and pulled out mine. It was quite an honor. So when the day came I had to go up to the front of the church and climb up a ladder and place the crown on top. I remember this well because I had never been up a ladder like this and I remember the feeling when I realized that I was in a dress and no stockings and felt rather exposed. Funny that at 6 I would have that feeling. I can still remember all the smell of flowers in the church. All the lilies around the alter and still to this day I can't pass a lily in the store around Easter with out remembering that time in my life. Sometimes I don't remember the day but the smell of them makes me feel good. I guess I was proud for the first time in my young life. I was special if only for that moment.

Lily means pure

Inspires the story, my age about six

Name tossed in a hat for to be picked

To crown virgin Mary sometime in May

A special occasion" my mother did say

Sweet were these flower of lily so fair

Perfume each pew, smell filled the air

Aroma so thick I remember it still

Trusting not ladder then set on the sill

Priest made a smile as he then took my hand

With crown in the other I had not a plan

Small were the roses that encircled this vine

To placed on the head of our sweet lady Devine

Small child was I clothed in fair white dress

Atop this long ladder scared I now confess

Angelic the sight" saintly old women did see

My eyes saw each pervert now looking at me

.....the little one inside of me

©Lady Jz Talk Zone 1958

I must say that no matter what picture I chose tonight each

one invoked a bitter sweet memory. So many beautiful

moments of childhood marred by our hand me down lessons.

The year ended and next thing I know I'm back at school in second grade getting ready for my first holy communion. Religion class was a daily thing in catholic school but that year we had to learn all about Jesus and receiving the sacraments. Part of that was learning about your first confession. That's where you got to go into a little room with a little sliding door and tell the priest all your sins. Of course there was a set way to do this. It went something like "bless me father for I have sinned." It was a given since none of us where saints that we must have little spots on our souls.

We spent a lot of time learning how to tell what a sin was and what kind it was. Original-one you’re born with, Venial-pardonable or Mortal-hell bound.

I can still picture those circles on the board and the teacher telling us that there are three things that make something a sin. One, you have to know it's a sin. Two, you have to believe it's a sin and Three- you have to do it of your own free will.

Wow, a lot of stuff to learn at 7 years old. Of course they used the 10 Commandments as a guideline. So that made it fairly easy. So now when I went to confession every Saturday after I received my first Holy Communion I knew what to confess. It was important to go before you went to church Sunday morning to receive the host. Which I must admit the most I felt I got out of that was food because you had to fast and not eat till after church. I guess that's when I appreciated the fact that my parents went to 7:00 mass on Sundays.

I had already received my vision from God before the church ever allowed me to take in the body of Christ. But of course I could never mention it because of what I read in the story of Joan of Arc.

One night I awoke with a bright light at the foot of my bed. It was Jesus and I always got the impression that he came to tell me that I was special and that He was going to protect me just like it said in the stories. I've never doubted what I saw even though what I was hoping He would protect me from still went on for many years. What did happen though was that I survived my abuse and grew up to have a good heart and a positive attitude most of the times.

I wasn't always a good girl. I did my share of lying, stealing and hurting others. Most of my confessions where based on how many times I lied to my parents (which really amounted to not much more then things like "did you hit your brother"? NO. And then confess how many times I hit my brothers. Stealing never amounted to much more then taking a book to school that my mother had told me not to and I did.

But as the years went by in school I had added to my stealing list candy bars, ice cream at school where I was monitor a lot, and spending my dues for girl scouts on candy then telling my mother I lost it. Seemly small lies now but I didn't want those dots to add up on my circle.
Later on when my brothers where molesting me more somehow I thought that I was breaking another commandment. So I would confess to those immoral things I was doing. As an adult I wondered why the priest was never alarmed or did any thing about that. It wasn't as if he didn't know who was making these confessions. He'd come out of the confessional after my family was done and he knew what family we belonged in. Sure it's suppose to be sacred and all that but I truly never knew why some one hadn't helped me. I even told about my grand father touching me. I confessed it like I was some how at fault. Not that I ever felt that I had any free will in the matter. Fear of my parents kept me from saying any thing. It was because I just knew that my mother would say that I had asked for it.

I grew up with hearing her say that. The way I acted I was looking for trouble. I can remember one Christmas when my Godparents came to bring presents for my younger brother and myself. We both were their god children. My Godfather put me up in his lap. Him and his wife really loved us because they had no children of their own. Couldn't have any I understand. Next thing that happened was my mother coming into the living room and pulling me out of his lap. She explained to him that she had a problem with me crawling up into every man's lap I see. She didn't know what was wrong with me. I might have been 7 or 8 years old if that.

NOTHING, I was little, blonde, cute and people picked me up and put me in their laps. Normal people who had affection for children. I always thought that was the reason my grand father started touching me. He knew that I couldn't say anything to my mother with out getting blamed for it. Some how every one knew I had a problem with men.

Up until I was 13 I never had a problem with men. Just the male family members who couldn’t keep their own hands to them self. It got to the point where I couldn't even play hide and seek in our house without one or the other crawling into the same small place I picked. How convenience for them.

My oldest brother was the worst of them. He was really perverted and always said sick things as I got older. His favorite saying was "incest is best". One of the last times he bothered me I think He got scared that my mother would hear me. He had put me up against the wall in the basement and when he let me down I was yelling that he was sick and to stay away from me. From somewhere inside me came someone strong enough to tell him off. It did the trick and I seemed to have found the way out of all the crap of being touched anytime some one feels like it. But don't think that it didn't leave its scares for me to bear.

I started seeing people around me having boyfriends and I really wanted some one for me. I had a crush on my older sister’s boyfriends. The guys at the Roller Rink my age never got close because they would say my brother of course would threaten any of them if they touched me. Which I always thought was real absurd after what he had done. Yet I guess that's the hold thing about incest. Keeping it in the family so to speak. I really think that he was afraid that if any one else went to touch me I might tell them what he had been doing.

There was only one guy that was aloud to skate with me at the rink and that was one who was married. So I settled for a crush on him and I could always dream one up.

Slowly but surely as I started to get into high school the boys started to notice me. Of course not as fast as I wanted them to or the ones I wanted to. I did get to go steady with one guy for a few months my freshman year, but I broke up with him because the friends in my head didn't think he was good enough for me. When it came to getting close to me this guy would be touching me all over. Not thinking about that at the time, My inner bodies where reliving what I had finally escaped from. I had no boundaries and before something happened that I would regret I broke it off.

These friends of mine I blamed the break up on where real to me. They were all I had between me and the world and they where so good to me that anything they told me to do I was going to do. My real friends believed that I had these friends. Why wouldn't they, they where part of every conversation I spoke? I swear that they could see them just as plain as I could. They talked about them too, I think, but they where real to me in every way.

I wrote letters to them that my friends would read. So why wouldn't they believe in them? I had spent a lot of time in grade school wishing for one of the boys to notice me, but I wasn't cool and my parents never let me go to cool places so I never got the opportunity to be with any of them. So mostly they just left me alone.

Once they did start to notice they really started to notice. And out side of a few kissy huggy feely times in a few cars there really was no opportunity to have any real sexual experiences. Some close calls but I truly believe that Jesus was watching out for me. God as I never understood him then. To me it was just how it was. The touching didn't mean much to me and it surely didn't excite me. I'd been touched and poked at as far back as I could remember. I truly didn't understand anything about sex, but I don't think any of the boys I was ever alone with thought that. Some how I appeared to them as well experienced. In control all the time. That's what I had learned from my younger years and I truly had to come to terms with how the same thing happens today. It doesn’t matter whether you are 16 or 60 allowing someone into your life is a new experience every time.

There is a whole story behind how I managed to get to go to friends from early my junior class sweet sixteen-birthday party. Some where in the pages I'll probably have that story, but for this page I just want to tell about my first time I wanted a boy to be with me. I probably would have done any thing he ask for if the situation had been different.

My girlfriend Linda was turning sixteen and her parents where letting her have a mixed party. I would never have been aloud to go to any party like that so lets just say I was sneaky this night. I had to walk there early to help her set up. She had invited a lot of cool kids from school. Back then a mixed party was where it happened. And one of the boys she had invited was the cutest guy in school. All the girls where after him. He was short wore cool shirts and just an Italian doll. She was so proud that he came. Of course he got a ride from another guy who lived near him. Mr. Clean only goes out with woman who is proper. Makes a big deal about that fact. So after the party gets going and the music is jumping. Then every one is pairing off in to the corners. Except that there where to many girls who wanted to be with one cute little guy, who somehow winded up in my corner?

We started talking about all the girls on the other side of the room and whom was he going to pick. He answered more like which he's going to get stuck with. I was shocked, I thought he would have jumped at a chance to be with any of them. He said he really didn't care for them they where so made up and he really would just rather stay back here with me if I didn't mind. I seemed more down to earth then all those popular girls. They make such a big deal over him that he felt self-conscious all the time when they are around.

So I really learned something about myself that night. That boys liked being with me because I was simple and didn't have to put on any heirs. We had such a good time talking for a while and then we decided that we better do some making out before the crowd came over. He wanted to just keep it him and me. So we did. God it was great. Hot and heavy well as heavy as it could have gotten in the room with all those other people. Talk about the world disappearing. For all the men who had kissed me, this was the first guy I really kissed back. It felt so great. And I know that if we had been in any other situation alone that would have been my big night. And probably his to.

Some where along the night my girlfriend asked me to talk to her a minute and I left him with his friend who he came with and who my friend Linda had been making out with all night. She wanted to have a few minutes with Ronnie for her birthday, so I sat with Terry and she went to make out with Ronnie. And that's all I gave her. I asked Terry to get her back so I could go back with Ronnie. Which He had no problem with? And Ronnie was so glad that I was back. He just couldn't get into it with Linda. She was much bigger then I was and being the smallest people at the party we thought we where better together.

The longer we made out the bolder he got and we laughed at ourselves I think. I know I was laughing and happy and feeling the envy of every other girl there. But all good things have to come to an end and this party was no exception. His friend gave me a ride back to the apartments near my house. Ronnie walked me a ways down the side walk. And kissed me good night and said that we'd have to do this again some time.

Any time was ok with me. The opportunity never really came up again. Out side of him hiding behind me in the hall sometimes when the other girls where trying to get his attention and we joked about them. That's when I met a new girl in school who was so cute and just about the same size as Ronnie and I introduced them one day. They made such a cute couple and I didn't even realize what I was doing. I played matchmaker and they got together as a couple. I never thought any thing more about it. I still had all my men (my protectors of my system) at night and that was all I could think about. As far as my friends where concerned my life was full.

It was years later when I ran into Ronnie in a parking lot that he reminded me we had never gotten together like we had planned. By then I was recently divorced and seeing another man so it didn't matter any more.

The last few months of school was fast and so many things where happening. I wasn't learning much in school and drugs where becoming the big high. I didn't get to experience as much as people thought I did but it wasn't that I lied to them it was just a given by my attitude and the way I acted. No one questioned it.

Things at home all this time was spent staying out of my mother’s wrath. If nothing rocked the boat then she wouldn't bother me. One of my good friends got pregnant and had to leave school and I was surprised when my mother let me give her a shower at her boyfriend’s house after she had the baby. I don't know what she ever thought about that. She never asked. I think she was afraid to.

I just soaked up any experience I could get with a man. It just seemed that all of a sudden there where men talking to me that I never thought would ever do. There must have been something about me maturing and it sure caught a lot of eyes. Guys more and more where telling me about the troubles they where having with their girl friends and it was great. They treated me with so much respect for not being like all those popular girls who made such a fuss over them. I was down to earth and could just talk about things or listen without making any demands on them. Now where did I learn that? All those people who filled my nights where how I learned. And situation any one could be in I had already been there in my mind.

I remember writing a soap opera for my English teacher. Every day I had a new episode. One day she came right out and asked me if these things where really happening in my life. She was the only one who really knew where the stories came from. It was my experience only from inside my own world. Things happened to me both good and bad.

I started writing songs back then to. Most started out as poems and later when I learned to play guitar I put music to them. I have copyrights on a few which developed into pretty good hits for my friends.

Finally the day came when my mother decided to take me out of school. Sure there were some really good reasons but my teachers all tried to talk her out of it. They knew that my world would end and they did their best. My mother needed to go into the hospital for surgery. And to keep me from getting into any more trouble, mostly because the nurse at school told her that she thought I was doing drugs, that if I was home she could have more control of me.

She did take me to the doctors to see if I was doing any drugs and the doctor decided that the reason I was getting sick in school was due to a nervous condition. They never really excepted what I told them. It was easier for me telling them that I got sick sometimes in school from dragging on a cigarette to fast. So the doctor prescribed some liquid green medicine to help with the stomach problem. It wasn't long after that I discovered alcohol had pretty much the same effect as long as I didn't drink too much. Of course what was too much when the booze was free.

There was many things that happened in school that I could tell you about but I'm sorry to say that those things didn't mean much to me in the long run. As my story goes on in other pages I'll most likely touch on some of those things. In a nutshell that's the lessons I came out of school with at 16. Out of school and into my mother's prison where there was no escape. I was not allowed any contact with any one I knew from school. None. That's when insanity began.

This is what is written by the fairies from the dragon tale:

"The moments that followed my lady’s distension much changed in the world around her. Fair Peter she went directly to for she knew he would help her flee far enough away that her family could not reach her. Such this young boy went through for three days and nights. He drove her to the safety of her friends house yet could not remain with her. To young himself to have such freedom. All he could do was go about his studies and wait for her message each night helpless to make any decision at all."

"She was hardly able to explain herself what had happened in those last hours but many already knew that she was taken from her own school of studies and forbade all contact with those that were there. Though his school was at a distance from hers, he learned of this tragedy through a youth group of his religion. That is where she knew to find him."

"His face lit up like a thousand candles at her sight. He hurried out of a class room to greet her. He would have done almost anything for her that night. Even a none believer could have seen that. In those next two days as she pondered her fate, his heart soared with delight. On the third night she spoke to him she asked him for one more favor. She was leaving this place to go as far away as she could. Would he please leave her at a station for her departure."

"His now feeling of finally winning her back could not imagine her parting in such away. Tossing all options around in his young mind none could he make happen at this time in his life. While driving her to this fated station he made her promise to wait until the very last one to leave while he searched for a better solution for her then to go off to unknown and perhaps deadlier place."

"She agreed in part because she herself, though not showing it, was uncertain of this yet traveled to place. Only known was the stories that it harbored many a child of her kind. If she had known of Peter’s plan before hand she would probably not have made such a promise to stay. For Peter went to his priest and asked him to broker a deal with her parents. The priest went to the parents and asked them what had caused this to happen."

"Parents found much embarrassment that a priest was brought into this. Denying most charges for they had never before had one of their own defy their law so blatantly. Respecting the wishes of this most reverend guest in their home they were to allow her to return and inflict her no more. Offering his counsel if they wished it for them self he would now have her brought to him."

"He returned to Peter who was watching his time on his wrist recede from his life. He could do nothing but wait for the priest to return. One can not imagine what must have been going through his mind in those hours but when the priest returned he flew as fast as he could back to the spot where he had left my lady waiting for her own destiny. As he ran to her he was a bundle of nerves while he tried to explain what he had done. The priest that she also knew was waiting to talk to her and Peter assured her that things would be different from now on."

"What of this is fear Peter never understood or could even have known was the reasons why he never saw her after that day again in this way. He took her to this Priest who then sent him on home, thanking him for his help. Then turned his attentions on this troubled soul who was left in his care. Asking her why she has done what she has and wanting to know all the reasons behind it’s force. He himself did not recognize this young woman in front of him. She did not appear to be the same as the child he had known in his classes before. This alter who broke through first to save her dear spirit, held now inside, claimed her fame in her words decreed that night. In twenty words or less she recited in truth her words that could bring even the mightiest man to his knees."

"Truth is like that. Near no one can protest under it’s binding law. Some may later try to hide it from others but I bore witness to what it did that night. Her truth laid open her path to freedom. What was said to her mother was not heard by her that night as she waited for the priest to drive her to their home. Instructed that they were still her parents for her age is not enough to disclaim them, yet assured that things would be very much different from that day forward, she allowed herself to return. Her alter state remained in place as she crossed back into their world. Guarding her from the only words her mother could not resist saying. "Hope you have it out of your system now" she walked passed this woman who could no longer hurt her and released my lady back into herself as her younger brothers came to greet her. She would watch over her for a few days to make sure the promises of the priest would be correct."

"The next morning my lady and her mother were both summoned to the authorities for to answer their own questions. For their own reasons they did not even question my lady for any explanation to what had transpired these last three days. For I believe that they had already been told. It was the mother who was questioned as to her intentions with this child. She was the one who had made the decision to take her out of school and though she was of legal age to do so the law required her to make her way to knowledge in some other way. Even if it was to work in the world. My lady was given two choices that day. She could return to their home or she could be found a home. Then turning to her mother they had only one thing to say. Only the law provides such shelter and that a child could not be held a prisoner in their home."