The Original Davey's Story

Chapter 3: My Life with Mom

It now was July of 1993 and I was 11 years old. Living with mom all these years hadn't been the best for me. My mom never did the stuff that other mothers did with their kids. Instead, she drank and did a lot of drugs. I begged her many times to please quit, but she didn't listen to me instead she backed handed me. I had problems at school I was 11 years old and was in the 3rd grade. You see with all the moving around that we did, I just never got a real chance to learn anything. I was having trouble with basic math (the pluses and minuses), I couldn't read, and I was slow in everything else. Don't get me wrong I wasn't stupid, I just didn't have the chance that I needed to learn, and I didn't have any help at home neither. Another thing that didn't help was that must of the other kids were cruel to me and picked on me quite often. The day that they found out about my other problem they got even worse.

You see no one was around when I took my first step, I was 11 months old and had been locked into my room while my mom was out getting high. When she finally did see me, she didn't even think twice about it. I also learned everything else without any help from my mom. But there was one problem that seemed beyond my control and didn't even become a big issue until I was 5 1/2. That problem was toilet training. My mom just kept me in diapers but the problem was over the period of time the diapers were getting too small for me. So, finally, my mom did something with me. At that age I craved attention but never got it so when my mom gave it to me, I was happy. I realized that my mom wanted me to learn to potty in the toilet but I also knew that if I did this that she would no longer have a reason to pay any attention to me, so I fought it.

By the time I was 6 I finally did learn to pee in the toilet but could not hold my poop and because of it pooped in my pants. So now at the age of 11 I still can't control my bowels and by the time school is over I have pooped in my pants. I also still tended to wet my pants at times when I am not paying attention to my bladder. So, the kids at school made fun of me. And when I got home, I would get my daily beating for having an accident. The only time I didn't receive a beating was when my mom was out getting high or boozed up or when she was passed out.

At night I had to sleep on a bed that I had peed on numerous times before that never had a rubber sheet placed on it. So, the mattress was saturated with piss and stank real bad. Also, all my underwear were pissed stained and had shit stains in the seat. My mom hated laundry so I was only allowed to change my sheets and pajamas every Saturday. On that day I also had to drag my mattress outside to be hosed down and dried.

So, the day the man walked on the porch of our house and asked me if I was Davey Long and I nodded and told him I was, I about jumped into his arms when he told me he was here to take me away from all this.

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