A Sister's Reflection

© Deanna White

39111014

CRASH
SLAM
(Damn wish these walls were thicker)
I listen
My stomach
Getting Sicker
Handcuffs
CLICK
All I can do
Sit

You stare
“Fuck you”
Your lips say
With a “help me” glare

Eyes closed
Tears
Goodbye little brother
See you next year



You used to be little

Remember
Watching Grease
Doing the hand jive
Making a secret handshake

Remember
At my sleepovers
Running away
When we tried to put make-up on you

Remember
Giving your friends
All the popsicles
And mommy got mad
Handshakes turned to gang signs
Running from police instead of girls
Popsicles turned to weed

Kids grow up so fast…


The aftermath

Finally
I could face it
The mess upstairs
Why’d you fight them?
Tried to jump out of the window
I shut it
Tried to close the door
Broken
Walk two feet

My room
Assess the damage
Toddler bed
Bent
Favorite chair
Broken
Legos
Spilled
Outline a body
Window
Open
I shut it
Walk back out the door

Maybe tomorrow…




Overview by Mother: Ms. W.C White.
During the summer of 2008 my 13 year old son was arrested for a serious, yet first offence. Nearly three years later, while still in the system, he ran away from yet another community placement. This time he was adamant about not going back saying “ I’m tired of the meetings, going to the doctor’s, the medication’s not helping, nothing is helping and Mr. B. uses any little excuse to take away my weekends (at home)!”

My son had numerous evaluations conducted (ordered by two different judges and from the core care agency I found) which all concluded that he was a very intelligent young man who had classic ADHD. Only after he was apprehended this time did we find that the medication (Risperdal) he had been taking for the past six months was not the proper medication for his diagnosis. Which meant that during their attempt to “rehabilitate” him, his ADHD was never properly treated.

Coming home either very late at night or very early in the morning he eluded authorities for about two weeks. On March 9, 2011 I was getting on the bus to go to school when I saw him approach our home. My daughter had not left for school yet so I called her to let her know that [in order to avoid further conflict with the law] I would be calling the abscondance unit to come pick him up. They did, and what preceeds are the reflections of his nineteen year old sister having witnessed her brother being dragged from his home: the only place he’d ever felt safe.

He took some of his anger out on her for answering the door when they came (my fault). She was not able to go to school after they left…because of what happened at 10:14 that morning.