My name is Avelonia Brown and I want to tell my story. I’m 32 years old and I’m just getting out of an abusive relationship. I don’t want or need your sympathy. All I need is for you to listen and hopefully learn.
Me when I was a kid...
A crime scene photo of my mother... my grandmother stole it from the station.
I’ve always had it hard. I remember when I was 6, my mother was strangled by a John and I was sent to live with my grandmother. My grandmother always resented me. I am an only child and I’m half Japanese and half black. My grandmother was a miserable old lady and she took it out on me. She called me every name you can think of. Once, I went to take the garbage out to the dumpster and she claimed to have looked all over for me. Needless to say I got in trouble. She made me stand in the kitchen doorway with my back turned while she heated up the oven. Next thing I know a hot hanger was being pressed against my forearm. She grabbed my hair and told me, “you better not move or you’ll get something worse.” I closed my eyes and tried to hold back the tears. When I couldn’t take it anymore I let out a loud scream. She didn’t like that at all! She took the hanger away from my arm and slammed me up against the wall.
I still have the scar on the back of my head.
After too many unfortunate events, I was put into foster care. I had to go to school with a black eye one day and that was the end of that part of my life.
When I turned, 16 I ran away from the group home I was in. Every foster family that I had had given me back for one reason or another. So, from 9-16, I lived in a group home. I didn’t know what I was going to do when I left but I had to leave. I left the lovely, Glenmont Group Home in the middle of the night on my 16th birthday. I climbed out of the window and as soon as I did, the cold February air burned my skin. I didn’t own a coat so I began to wonder if I should do it or not. My mind wandered back to when I was 9 years old….
I had just gotten back from my last foster family when a tall white man approached me. He knelt down and took my plastic bag of clothes. He touched my shoulder and said, “everything will be alright.” He had a kindness in his eyes that I’ve never seen. At that moment, I felt that I could trust him and I smiled for the first time in many years.
Later that night, I was in my bunk bed when I felt heavy breathing on my face. It was the tall white man again. I cannot recall his name and that’s probably for the best. He gently touched my forehead and told me to come with him.
I got up and followed him into a dark room on the third floor. When my eyes finally adjusted, I noticed that we were in the game room. Before I could say anything he covered my mouth and threw me on the filthy couch….
Tears rolled down my face. Before I knew it, I was out of the window and walking in the snow. I couldn’t think about that now. I was on my way to a new life.
