ʀᴇᴍɪɴɪsᴄᴇɴᴄᴇ ➝ rafe cameron

𝐇 𝐎 𝐌 𝐄 # 4

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙵𝙸𝚅𝙴

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦, 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

Harlow Viotto, that's me. I was in about 6 homes before my parents adopted me. When I first got to their home I felt the love. I felt the warmth like sitting by the fire. Overtaking all that I had endured. For at least two months I spoke not one word, observed everything. When I spoke for the first time my mamma and papà had videotaped it. A memory I now cherish.

Home four was one of the worst ...

It was your typical foster home, two story home occupied by a woman and a man with about five to four foster kids. Jack, Madeline, Huey, Zak & me. We where the foster kids of this home. Our foster parents Willie & Charlotte Diamond. I had three rooms I hated in that home.

Layout: Front door, a mini foyer with a nook, living room, kitchen, basement stairs/door. First floor complete. Upstairs had four rooms, a guest room, where the Diamonds slept, our room situated with bunk beds and one twin bed. The bathroom was the last room. We have at long last the attic which was livable.

The three rooms I hated, the bathroom, the attic, then the basement. I was about eight or nine in this home I always went to the bathroom last. Jack (6), Madeline (12), Huey (10). Zak at the time was (7). Self-conscious at a young age.

Silence tended to sweep over the house after 7 pm because the Diamonds scheduled us to precision, when we eat, sleep, play, go to school & how our lunches were packed.

As silent as it got, I was making small noises because I'm doing things in the bathroom. I'd shower at 7:15 most nights. Do all my night routine, then try to head to sleep. To no avail.

Quiet as a mouse, all I'd hear were his creaks in the floorboard. Soft steps with a certain cadence which sent chills all over my body.

He comes into the bathroom watches me dress, 'plays' is what he liked to call it. 'We're performing different plays Harlow, you must do everything I say or else'

"Or else" wasn't a lie. I still have the cigarette burns, the scars from the blade of evil, my semicolon tattoo in the back of my ear says worlds away from where I am today.

We'd go to the attic for whenever I did something he didn't approve of. Ah.... the basement was a sick joke. He'd record what he does to me, then have me sit and watch. The live recap or a look at another child's horrors. Willie Diamond had about almost twenty VHS tapes.

Charlotte... she was sweet, she was nurturing every time she questioned Willie. Told him to stop hurting whichever kid during their stay never ended well. He abused her, took her to the room all we'd hear at the dinner table was 'thwacks' 'thuds' 'screams'. She never shed a tear. Like she trained herself not to cry.

One sound made it to the top of my list as the worst,  he'd break a bone if she had said something he really wasn't fond of.

I spent about six months with them.

Last I heard, Charlotte arrested Willie two months after Zac & I left. She was a undercover FBI Agent investigating child endangerment. She was undercover for 3 years with this story. Waiting for proof. His earliest wife died, she was unrecognizable with the damage he caused.

★。＼｜／。★

The present day is now filled with pogue life plus spontaneity every now and then. Easier for me to live and call it life, you know.

Which brings me to continuing my reminiscing ☟︎