Some time later, Savannah killed her mother’s boyfriend

Some time later, Savannah killed her mother’s boyfriend. He had been verbally abusing Annie, and Savannah got angry, went into the kitchen, returned with a knife, and stuck it in his back.

I didn’t hold Savannah to blame, though. I couldn’t. So many people had abused her. I blamed all the adults who could have – should have – helped her, including Roland and the social workers. I was disgusted with them all. Why didn’t anyone help her?

After the murder and Savannah’s arrest, I called her defense attorneys and told them how she had been living. I wanted her lawyer to know what she had been through – the alcoholism in the family and the abuse, neglect, and gang rape she’d endured. I wanted him to be sympathetic. But I also called the prosecution. I wanted someone to finally do something.
I don’t think anything I said had any affect on anything, but her first baby was taken away from her, and Savannah went to a group home. And that was great.
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Wanda was admitted to BetterLife Treatment Center. Wanting to encourage her, I went to visit. Once there, I felt I’d better explain my absence from the extended family. It wasn't just because Roland and I were separated or because I didn't get along with his oldest daughters.

“Wanda, I haven’t come around you guys for awhile because I care about you all and just can’t keep watching all the bad things going on. I just can’t keep watching everyone get hurt and die.”

Wanda didn’t take offense. Instead, she felt touched by the idea someone cared. ‘No one’s ever said anything like that to me before,” she answered quietly.
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My Sister Steph moved in with me in January. When she came, I was excited. I had visions that we would shop together, do each other’s hair and in general, be sisters together in a way we never had before. But neither of our schedules ended up allowing it. I was working the 3-11 shift and at times even back to back or doubles, and she was working two jobs. We rarely saw each other.

Troy and Mickey were my babysitters, not because they were good but because they were convenient. Some mornings I’d find Haley soaked in her crib because they hadn’t changed her before putting her to bed. And there were times girls stayed over while both Steph and I were gone. Steph was especially angry when one of her heirloom coffee tables was broken.
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Troy came home one day and told me something Misty had said about me. That was it. I’d had enough.
“I’m going down to kick her a—right now.”
Matthew stopped me. “She’s pregnant. You better not go over there.”
“I don’t care. I’m sick of her!”
I was afraid if I stopped now, I’d never do it. I jumped in my car and drove over to Cheri’s place. Standing in the snow outside, I called Misty down from the upstairs duplex.
She hurried down the stairs and opened the screen door. “What?”
“I’m so sick of you and your mouth! If you don’t cut it out, I’ll kick the s--- out of you!”
“Wait a minute.” She turned and ran back up the stairs.

I'm So Over You.

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My nursing boards were scheduled to take place at the Civic Center over a two-day period. I asked Marion if Andrew could stay with her over those two days; I'd do better if I didn't have to worry about him. The first day of the test, the staff ushered us into a large room. We weren't allowed to bring anything in with us and we weren't allowed to leave the room. It was a long and stressful day. That night I went to bed early, my body was drained.

Around midnight the phone rang. "Beth.... This is Dorothy," came the slurred voice, "I'm over at a party.... Will you pick me up...and take me over to Lincoln?"

"No!" I barked and hung up.

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That weekend, the nursing boards finally over with, Andrew and I actually began to relax. Having nothing but welfare now money was tight. But it was okay, Andrew and I didn't need much. We went to fairs, the library, and to visit my family. We went to the beach twice a week and spent the whole afternoon doing nothing but play together in the water and lie on the warm sand. If I had loose change, I bought each of us an ice cream bar at the refreshment stand. It was a beautiful, wonderful time.

Unfortunately, it ended too soon. I came home from an overnight stay at my sister's one day and found Troy and Mathew sleeping in the house. They'd gotten in through the upstairs porch door.

I was angry, but didn't show it. Not wanting them to hate me, I didn’t want them to know how I felt. I scolded them and then let it go. My quiet time was over.

The phone rang just as I was falling asleep.

"Tell my dad Cheri had her kid," Misty snapped.

"Tell him yourself," I snapped back and hung up.

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Mickey came back from Texas, but Paul stayed with his dad. I went into labor in September and Troy drove me in. I didn't call Wilson. Why bother? He knew when I was due. I'd packed my overnight bag for Andrew also, intending that he stay with me. Troy dropped Andrew and me at the hospital door.

Around 5:30 p.m. the next day, Andrew tried to cut his sister's cord. The doctor helped.

Haley's initial color at birth was dark and her face was squashed, accenting her Indian features. My initial reaction to the way she looked was fear. My thought; "I've given birth to an Indian girl who will become a teenage Indian girl."

I was barely out of the shower when Steph arrived half an hour later from work. She very lovingly combed my wet hair out. Erik, Bobby and Chris arrived soon after. All of them took time to hold Haley. I was tired, but so touched and grateful to have them all there. When they left they took Andrew and his belongings with them.

"I'll pick you up and take you home when it's time," Steph offered.

I fell asleep that night comforted by my brothers and sisters. Alone with Haley, my feelings of fear passed.

She was beautiful.
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