I’ve convinced myself that evil infiltrated me when I was five, during a session of playing with an Ouija board. Really, though, evil was always all around me, able to move in and out at will. It followed me everywhere, as I assume it does for everybody. But so did God. It was all a matter of who I decided to listen to. Satan was more fun. Except for the times he scared the shit out of me. It took me years to figure out what was as going on, during which time I embraced all of the fun Satan threw at me. When I was only nine he brought me to Jenny, the girl across the street. Jenny taught me to kiss and led me to discover the funny feelings you can get from messing around with private parts. (Long story—it’s all in my book.)
Before I embraced God I skipped and frolicked down some beautifully sinful roads. I was a horny, angry teenager– or, preteen rather. Fighting in school was common for me, most of my middle school years were spent in either in school suspension (ISS), out of school suspension (OSS), or regular detention–always one of the three. Actually, detention was held after school, and once the end of the day bell rang I was out of there, no one could make me stay. I strived for OSS, I don’t see how they thought they were punishing me by banning me from attending school. I loved being bad, every fiber within me thrive and basked in my wicked ways. Nobody taught me to be bad, it came naturally to me, I guess. Power and control were amazing by-products of not giving a damn.
At twelve I began having sex, my boyfriend was sixteen. With sex brought a whole new level of authority, with sex I could control just about any teenage boy. Control was an alluring drug. Speaking of drugs; luckily I was able to stick mostly to marijuana—save a hit of acid here and there. Cigarettes, pot, and alcohol was the extent of the fun substances I used. But I was only twelve, too young to be introduced to anything else.
Also, when I was twelve I became pregnant. Having an abortion was forced upon me by my parents, it was not something I wanted. The good that was hiding within me apparently was against murder. It was then when I began to seek God. My days of self-destruction were far from behind me, however. But I did take a break for a while. I met my soul mate, had some kids, married my soul mate, then re-boarded the Satan bandwagon. (It’s a complicated story involving a rabbit and my inability to not follow him.)
During my good years—the years when I easily able to resist from following the rabbit—I blissfully rested in the comfort of my husband and our two children, the first of which I had when I was fifteen and the second when I was seventeen. All of the anger and defiance was put behind me, the love I had for my children filled my heart and temporarily blockaded any evil from penetrating me. My life was perfect—for a while.
The worst of my days were yet to come.