Kathy Sees
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Bad Girl House
Years ago, I found something strange in a book that belonged to my mom. It sent me searching for answers that I still don’t feel I’ve conclusively found. When I was in the eighth grade I needed to find a book to read for my Language Arts class, so I could ultimately write the dreaded book report. My mom had been both a math and English major when she attended college to become a teacher. That meant that there was no shortage of books at our house. There were boxes and boxes of books in our basement to go through. There was just about anything you could want. I eventually found one that sounded good to me.
By Kathy Sees5 years ago in Families
Bad Girl House
During our first summer together, John and I went on a few small trips with his family. The first trip was to Mohican State Park. We were going to spend the day canoeing. The weather had certainly cooperated with our plans. The sun was out for the entire day, making the river shine and the overgrowth along the banks glow. I was in a canoe with John and his son. Jonathan sat in the center of the boat since he still didn’t have the strength to steer the narrow boat. John’s brother Tom, his sister Nina, and her boyfriend Joe shared another canoe. Nana and Papa were paddling along somewhere behind us. It was a typical canoe trip of trying to keep up with each other, avoiding the banks of the river, and attempting to tip each other over. John, who always seemed to be in a hurry, even on a day that was supposed to be relaxing, kept us moving down the river at a pretty good pace. We were so far ahead of everyone else, that we sat and watched for them to when we reach the end of the course. When everyone had finally arrived, and canoes were put away, we all stood along the shore for awhile before leaving. Catching me by surprise, Papa grabbed my shoulders from behind and pretended that he was going to toss me in the river. He was joking around since my canoe hadn’t gotten turned over at all that day. Everyone was laughing playfully as he let go right at the river’s edge. It made me feel good to be included like that. Unfortunately, that was the first and only time he would ever acted like that around me.
By Kathy Sees5 years ago in Families
Bad Girl House
A choir rehearsal never went by without a guy named Dan shamelessly attempting to get the attention of every girl in the room. He acted just the little boys on the play ground pulling the pigtails of the girls he liked before running away. I suppose that he had never outgrown that childish manner of flirting. I wouldn’t have described what he was doing as charming, but he deserved an A for effort. Most of the other girls avoided him, or at least ignored him the best that they could. Some of them already knew what he was like, because he was also in the marching band with them. The band had started practicing over the summer because of the football season, so they had a slight advantage on the singers that hadn’t met him yet. I was one of the girls that he hadn’t seen, so he must have seen it as an opportunity to see how I would react. He would often tap me on the shoulder, and wave at me with a goofy grin on his face when I turned around. On a day that he was being particularly annoying, he wouldn’t stop tapping me on the shoulder during a rehearsal. We were standing on risers, practicing for an upcoming concert, so there already wasn’t a lot of personal space to speak of. Dan had been placed behind me. Every time the director stopped the choir, I felt his finger tapping at me. The first few times I turned around to see him looking around at the ceiling. I just smiled. After a few more taps, I had to start ignoring him. I was taking our rehearsal seriously, and I had had enough. His tapping got a little bit harder, but I still didn’t turn around. He must have gotten the message, because he gave up for the day.
By Kathy Sees5 years ago in Humans
Bad Girl House
In February of 2002, I suspected that I was pregnant with my second child. My system was normally right on time, and I wasn’t on birth control. I just had a gut feeling, and after a home pregnancy test, I had a definite answer. I had a sudden feeling of excitement that Jessica was going to have a younger brother or sister. It wasn’t long before I made my first trip to the local obstetrician. John made sure that he and Jessica came back from Ohio so they could go with me to the doctor’s office on a Saturday afternoon. Like many of the newer buildings in the area, this one was meant to look like a modern barn. It didn’t look like a doctor’s office, but more like a hardware store. The parking lot was completely full, as was the waiting room. It was a narrow room that spanned the front of the building. There was a row of chairs along both long walls that only left about three feet down the center. We were able to sit down once someone else’s name was called. It never took much time for John to become extremely impatient. He always had somewhere else to be, or something better he could be doing. Our wait was becoming so long that he even threatened to leave. That never made sense to me, because we would just be doing the same thing next time, which added up to more time spent waiting.
By Kathy Sees5 years ago in Humans
Bad Girl House
In the fall of 1995, I was going to go to college at the University of Akron. I had been accepted into the University, but I still needed to be accepted into the School of Music where I would be studying to become a music teacher. It was already mid-summer, and I hadn’t registered for my classes yet because, I was waiting to see what I should actually sign up for. Perspective music students had to audition to be accepted into the School of Music. I was hoping that my voice at least had the potential to be accepted. Even though I had been playing the piano for most of my life, I knew that I wasn’t good enough to compete at the college level. Since I wanted to teach choirs, I was auditioning to be a voice major. I was required to present two songs to the School of Music’s voice faculty. More often than not, I was the accompanist instead of the singer, and I definitely was not a confident soloist. Luckily, I did have one song that I felt comfortable with. I had sang it at a high school event where students receive ratings on their performances from local music teachers. I had gotten the highest possible rating, and it was the only classical solo piece I had ever learned.
By Kathy Sees5 years ago in Humans
Bad Girl House
This book is going to be a journey of discovery for both of us. You may never have thought about it, but our own personal journeys are only a small part of a never-ending cycle — one that has been influenced already by countless factors that were completely out of our control. This cycle includes events that happened, decisions that were made, and people who crossed out paths without us having any knowledge of them. Most of this happened long before we suffered the abuse, long before we fell in love, long before we were in school, long before we could walk or talk. It is also so important to remember that what we are doing right now could influence and change the ultimate journeys of those closest to us — possibly even the journey of someone we may never meet, and possibly someone who will be on their journey long after we are gone.
By Kathy Sees5 years ago in Humans
Bad Girl House
The beginning of the school year was both exciting and terrifying. I wanted to be as prepared as I possibly could, so that I would feel comfortable and appear to be confident in front of my new students. I wanted to make a good impression on the rest of the teachers in each building. My days started at the elementary school with the first and second graders. I stood outside my classroom door to greet them as their teacher brought them to me. The sound of squeaky tennis shoes and whispers accompanied a single file line of children that stopped when it reached me. Their teacher said a quick hello, and she then cued them to go into the room. As I smiled down at each one of them as they went past, I was having trouble slowing down the thoughts in my head. With each group that arrived, I had to remind myself that I would be fine. I was still needing to block the thoughts that contradicted the truth. I knew that I was a good teacher, but there was still that nagging voice saying that I wasn’t cut out to for this.
By Kathy Sees5 years ago in Education
Bad Girl House
Written while the kids were still having visitation and phone calls during 2010 Left as originally written I hate you. I hate what you did to me. I hate what you did to these children. Hate that I have to deal with these emotions everyday. I struggle to keep myself going, to keep myself strong, to keep myself motivated. I hate when I feel like hiding from the world. I hate when I just want to stay in bed and sleep to make this all go away for awhile. I hate that the past feels like it will always be there. I hate that I can’t stop the present from becoming someone else’s terrible past. I hate that I can’t warn anyone about what you are. A manipulative, controlling, evil, scary, out of control monster. A loose canon, an abuser who only thinks about himself above all others. Even over his children. I want you to have a mark that tells people what you really are, before they are trapped and finally discover it for themselves. I hate that you are around other children and animals after seeing what you are capable of. You are only capable of torture. I believe that you enjoy the suffering of others. I hate how you continue to manipulate the kids. Who only sees their children five times in one entire year? Who voluntarily, purposefully, doesn’t go see their kids, regardless of the circumstances? And even though you never see them, the past still controls them. I hate that they are still afraid of you, and intimidated by you. They will not do or say anything to upset you, like you’re actually someone important. You are nothing. You are a loser who needs to mooch off of others to survive. You couldn’t take care of anything or anyone. I don’t think you know how. You have no respect for what the and I went through because of you. I hate that you deny everything that happened, but in your own mind you must know. I hope that it is eating you love to know exactly what you so stupidly threw away. I hate that I am seen as the bad guy. I hate picking up the kids and having that sickening feeling in my stomach. Having to wonder what kind of ignorance went on this time. Hate that your parents have no respect for me or the kids. My requests are ignored, and you all play games with their heads. The trauma they went through is not just some trivial thing. If these kids had an issue with you, it runs much deeper than just simple surface emotions. They know what you are too. I hate that I am like a ghost. I hate that any communication turns into a fiasco. I hate everything about going to court. Your voice, your face, your presence, your attitude, your ignorance, your disrespect, your posture. You should be locked up and tortured, just like I was. You don’t deserve any chance at happiness, because you took it from us for so long. You will see us happy from a very far distance, and I hope it drives you insane. I hate when I think about how many times I should have and could have gotten out earlier. Especially when I was out of the house. I hate when self blame creeps back in and brings me down. But then I firmly remind myself that you did this to us and to yourself. It was never my fault. I hate having to think about wanting to hurt you. I hate knowing that you even exist. I hate the sound of your voice and your condescending tone with the kids. I hate that you’ll have to be a part of their lives, but maybe they can decide that you don’t need to be before too long. I hate when I am full of hate.
By Kathy Sees5 years ago in Humans
Bad Girl House
Many colleges end their school year with a celebration called May Day. The University of Akron was no exception. After a week of final exams, students were ready to celebrate the end of another grueling semester. It was time for everyone to let off all of that pent-up steam. Right after my last final, I headed over to John’s apartment. He was living in an apartment complex fairly close to campus, and many of the people were already celebrating outside when I arrived. From the looks of them, they had apparently been done taking tests a bit earlier in the day. They all had a drink in hand as they talked and laughed loudly with each other. People were clumsily dancing to music coming from speakers set up in apartment windows. John and I only knew his roommates, so we tended to follow where they went, mainly walking along the backyards of the apartments. This was the first college party I had ever been to, and didn’t know what to expect. I supposed that I thought I’d see the stereotypical scene of people chugging beer, cheering, and eventually falling on their faces. There was already plenty of drinking going on, but everyone seemed to be pretty laid back. Since I wasn’t old enough to drink yet, it was John’s idea for me to carry around a cup anyway so that it looked like I already had a beer and no one would actually ask me if I wanted one. While we walked around, I did feel uncomfortable around the few people who had obviously had too much to drink. Although they were kind of entertaining, I didn’t understand it why they enjoyed drinking so much. As the evening went on, John would grab another beer each time the one he had was empty. This started to upset me, because I was currently dealing with the realization that what had always thought was casual drinking on my dad’s part in reality might be alcoholism. My dad usually stopped at a bar on the way home from work. I wouldn’t say that he ever came home stinking drunk, but I was beginning to notice that when did come home he was easily bothered and didn’t want to talk to anyone. Oftentimes, an argument would start between the two of us over something that wasn’t worth fighting over. It caused me to begin actively avoiding him. That was better than getting into yelling matches with him, and letting him make me feel like what I said or how I felt didn’t matter. At a certain point I wouldn’t even eat dinner in the same room as him. It was a rare moment when we enjoyed each other’s company.
By Kathy Sees5 years ago in Humans
Bad Girl House
Relief from being pregnant in the summer heat finally came. I started feeling contractions the night of August eighth at around ten o’clock at night. We had learned all about waiting until my contractions were ten minutes apart before calling the midwife and heading to the hospital, so I tried to relax by lying down for a while. While they got closer together, we called our parents to let them know that baby Jessica was on her way. Even when it was time to go, I didn’t think that the pain was too terrible. The intensity of each contraction was nothing that I couldn’t breathe through. I suppose that four years of learning to control my breath to sing was coming in handy now. Also, I had grown up with those terrible cramps, that were almost as bad as what I was going through in labor.
By Kathy Sees5 years ago in Humans
