The Story of Channon Rose: Lessons between the Lines (2 page)

Both of my parents were laid back and liberal, my mother especially. She was amazing and never overbearing. My father was the same way, though he didn’t have a problem with discipline and spanking, so my baby sister and I were very well behaved. Both our parents worked long hours so we had nannies, au pairs, and babysitters that helped raise us when our parents were away. One of my favorite nannies was Maria. Maria was Hispanic, and the most caring nanny I had. She made the best Mexican food, taught me to speak Spanglish, and took very good care of me. I remember she would put this Mexican salt stuff called Lucas or Tajin on my popcorn and fruit and I loved it! I still put (I call it Mexican Candy Salt) it on everything.

My early days were fun and surrounded by family and friends. My parents believed in a good education, so both my sister and I were placed in private Christian schools. The first school I ever attended was Pinecrest. Like most kids, I did not want to be left at school on the first day of Kindergarten. I was the kid who screamed and cried and held onto my mom’s leg as she was trying to leave me at school. Eventually I allowed her to leave and by the end of the day when she came to pick me up I didn’t want to go home. I remember they had green eggs and ham at school that day, I thought the green eggs were so cool and I loved the book they read to us which was the famous Dr. Seuss book Green Eggs and Ham. Then we did arts and crafts and I loved doing crafts. I remember drawing or writing and the teachers always taking my crayon or pencil out of my left hand and putting it into my right hand. I always switched it back though, as I was clearly left-handed. Thinking back on it, I got upset that the teachers did that but I think it was mostly because everything is made for right-handed people and they were just trying to make my life easier. Little did they know I would grow up and learn EVERYTHING the hard way. I have to say I love being left-handed though. I am convinced by the studies done that lefties are more creative and organized. I think it’s very true and I love being creative. Art and creativity was very natural for me, but when it came to memorizing my ABC’s I had a more difficult time than the other kids. I was a slow learner, but far from stupid. To be honest, school was always pretty difficult for me. I did not learn as quickly as the other children, and I felt like there was something wrong with me. My teachers suggested I go to a place called Learning Lab because I had a hard time keeping up in my classes. The one thing I struggled with the most was numbers. They just instantly make my brain go nuts because I don’t understand math, no matter how hard someone tries to explain it to me. My brain is just allergic to math. I didn’t get it then, and I don’t get it now. Thankfully, we have calculators, computers, accountants, and bank tellers or I would be a lost cause.

I attended Kindergarten, first, and second grade at Pinecrest. I had a best friend in the beginning of grade school, her name was Allison and we did everything together. Some of my favorite childhood memories are of Allison and I going to summer camp at Pinecrest. I loved going to summer camp, we would do talent shows, plays, and go on overnight camping trips! We did a lot of crafts and swam in the pool, it was so much fun!

By second grade, I was getting bullied a lot for having clubbed thumbs, and I wasn’t doing as well in my classes. It got so bad that I asked my mom if I could switch schools because I was very unhappy there. My mom agreed and put me into Valley Presbyterian School in the third grade. I was still struggling a lot in school at VPS but the kids were much nicer and I made friends fast. I really liked that school, although most of the work was difficult for me. The worst part was that my parents were unable to help me with my schoolwork because they either didn’t have time or they didn’t know how to do it themselves.

I didn’t learn how to tell time correctly until the sixth grade! That is an experience I will never forget. A friend of mine, Becky, once asked me what time it was, and I froze up. I did not know. She was the most popular girl in school and one of my best friends. Without making me feel like a huge idiot, she taught me how to tell time during recess. That was really nice of her, and something I’ll never forget.

Valley Presbyterian School was a very religious school and both my sister and I attended there.

My little sister had a friend named Vicky, whose mom would drop us off after school because my parents worked late. It turned out that Vicky’s mother Misty was having an affair with my father, which is why she always did “favors” for my mom. She also happened to be my mom’s best friend at the time. Eventually my mom found out about the affair and asked my dad for a divorce. My father did not know it yet, but he was making the biggest mistake of his life, and mine.

At this point my parent’s were technically separated but we all still lived together while my mom was looking for a place for us to live. I was devastated when I found out my parents would be getting a divorce. No one else’s parents at my school had gotten a divorce and I felt like an outcast and like I didn’t fit in. Everyone else seemed to have perfect lives at home or so I thought. One day after school I remember walking into my parents’ bedroom and they were having sex. At least I assumed that was what they were doing. I quickly ran out so they wouldn’t know I saw them. I felt confused but happy because I thought my parents would be getting back together and we wouldn’t have to move anymore. Later that day, my dad took my sister and I out for “ice cream” but instead we ended up at Misty’s house. When we got there I was so upset and didn’t understand why my dad would lie and do that to my mom. I went into the laundry room where Misty was doing laundry and told Misty that my mom and dad had sex before we got there. I wanted her to know that my parents loved each other. What she was doing with my dad was wrong. She just looked at me with a disgusted look on her face.

I would live to regret telling her that. That decision backfired on me big time, as Misty flew into a rage and confronted my dad right away. “Tell her you are lying!” my father insisted as he tried to convince Misty it was a lie. “But I saw you bouncing up and down on mommy!” I replied in my eight-year-old voice. He continued to talk his way out of a lie, but Misty wouldn’t buy it. So my father turned his frustration towards me. He bent me over and spanked me really hard, multiple times urging me to confess it wasn’t true. But I didn’t want to lie, I was telling the truth so he continued to spank me harder and harder until I couldn’t take it anymore. Finally I screamed, “It’s a lie!” I had to make the pain stop. My dad calls this “beating it out of you”.

After my spankings, I was sent to sit in the corner facing the wall, away from everyone else. The spankings were not enough to get my father’s point across. The back of my butt and legs were beat red and were stinging badly. I could barely sit because my little butt was burning and throbbing and I was in so much pain. I remember sitting in that corner sobbing and thinking that my dad hated me and loved Misty more than me. I missed my mom and hoped that she would come to get me but she thought we were out getting ice cream. A few minutes had passed when my dad, my sister, Misty and her kids went to watch TV in another room.

As soon as they left I got up as fast as I could to find a phone to call my mom. When she answered, I told her where I was. I was crying so much I could barely catch my breath to talk. I told her, “Dad spanked me really hard can you come get me?” Misty must have heard me on the phone and told my dad, who stormed into the room demanding answers. I told him I wanted my Mom to come to pick me up. I didn’t realize it then, but my dad was a womanizer, or player you might say. He had played Misty and my mother, making them believe they were the “only” ones.

My actions made my father furious. I was a troublemaker in his eyes. He grabbed the phone and threw it then started spanking me even worse. I was getting spanked over and over in the same spot he had hit me before. The pain was overwhelming. I was screaming in pain and had tears running down my face. My mother heard my screams on the other end of the phone and dropped everything to come get me. I can’t imagine how my mother must have felt getting a call from her ex-best friends house after my dad had told her he was taking us kids for ice cream and had just finished having sex with her hours before. She must have been shocked to hear me on the other end crying and begging her to come get me. Misty lived a short distance away, so my mom arrived quickly. My mom burst into the house and began shouting at my father and Misty. The three of them ended up in the bathroom and slammed the door shut, but the four of us kids (Misty’s two children, my sister and I) could all still hear them fighting. The screaming and shouting grew louder, and then I could hear someone getting thrown against a wall. I was scared, all of us kids were. I was the oldest, so I called 911 for help. My mom had taught me about emergencies, and I was in fear for my mother’s safety. After what felt like an hour, my mom came out of the bathroom crying and extremely upset. Her hair, make-up, and clothes were a total mess. She immediately grabbed my sister and I, we rushed to her car and all three of us cried on the drive home.

I wasn’t there to witness what happened next, but apparently after we left, several cop cars and a helicopter surrounded Misty’s house. That night was only the beginning of what Misty would use against me later on. Once things died down, my heartbroken mom had to find a place to live and figure out how to raise two kids all on her own. The man she loved had been cheating on her, with her best friend. She had to stay at my dad’s house out of need, which was painful. They fought constantly, and it was a very messy divorce. My sister and I had to see all of it. Thankfully, my little sister wasn’t quite old enough to really understand what was going on. But I did.

Day in and day out my sister and I heard them fight. One night in particular was really bad, and I heard my mom shout, “Let me go!” I ran into the kitchen to see if she was okay. My dad was dragging her on the floor by her hair. “Stop hurting my mom!” I screamed. “We were just playing” my dad replied. I knew that was a lie. I was furious with my father. My mom got off the floor, hugged me, and told me she was fine. A few days later my mom moved us out of my dads and into a townhouse. Once we had moved out, it hit me. My parents didn’t love each other anymore and they were never going to be together again. I remember sitting in my room staring out the window crying because I knew things would never be the same. I was torn apart on the inside, just like my family was on the outside. I was eight years old and I didn’t understand why all of this was happening and why my parent’s didn’t love each other anymore. Custody was given to my mom, and we were with my dad each Thursday, Friday, and every other weekend. My dad had to pay child support, which was something he had an issue with years prior from a previous divorce. Apparently he wasn’t making child support payments for my older half-sister Chanel and because of that, the police had come and taken him away in handcuffs. I was pretty young when that happened but I witnessed the whole thing and screamed at the police in my dad’s defense to leave him alone and to let him go. He made good money, so I never understood why he didn’t pay. I know now that he was very irresponsible with money. My mom ended up paying Chanel’s child support and sorting out all the family finances. Now I know so far my dad sounds like a monster, but I want to say he did do many good things for us kids. Now that I’m older I’m closer to my dad than I’ve ever been and have a great relationship with him, but growing up was much different and things got really bad before they got better. He did always keep a roof over our head, provided food for us, bought us clothes, paid for us to go to good schools, and he also taught me how to play sports.