I remember the day I walked out of my home at the age of seventeen. Deciding to leave was one of the hardest decisions I have ever had to make. Not because I wanted to stay, but because the consequence of my choice wouldn’t just effect me. It would affect my sister as well. My sister is a wonderful girl. She is nine months older than me and is Mentally Challenged. Her mind works at the rate of a seven year old which means even though she has an adult body, she is still a child who needs love, guidance, parenting and protection. This is something my parents were not very successful at and so while I was living in the home it was a role I took on. Protecting my sister was probably the easiest of all of the things I had to do simply because as long as I was there she would not have to endure any abuse. Instead, it would all go to me. For years my mom would let her husband sexually abuse me and I feared that he was doing it to my sister as well. Along with the sexual abuse came physical, verbal, mental, and emotional and I would never wish that on my sister. One night I worked up the guts to ask him a question that had been haunting me for a long time.  so after he had finished with me and had let me go I looked at him with my big fearful eyes and asked the question that would give me peace about my sisters safety for the first time. “Are you doing this to Kayla too?” I asked. His response, although revolting was “No I wouldn’t hurt her she is special.” From that moment on I knew my sister was safe. Her innocent mind would not be harmed because they wouldn’t touch her because I was there.

As I walked down the steps of the front porch that day to say good bye to the house that brought me so much pain, happiness was the last thing on my mind. All I felt was sorrow…

I was sorry that my options were so limited.

Moving out was the only way to escape the abuse and break the cycle that I had been placed in.

I was sorry that at the age of 17 I had to grow up and make choices that most 30-year-old’s wouldn’t even think of making.

Out of all the things I had to be sorry about, my sister was at the top of that list. I knew in my heart that the moment I walked out of that house she was no longer safe. SHE would now take the brunt of the abuse. Her innocent eyes would have to see more than she should ever have to and I felt like it was all because of me. I had abandoned her. I left a precious 7 year old girl to fight a battle she was not capable of winning… As  I drove off that day I made my sister a promise in my head. I wouldn’t leave her. I promised I would fight for her and I would find a way to get her to a safe place. I promised her that I would make sure no one would ever hurt her again. After I moved out I was not allowed to have any visitation with my sister per my mom’s orders. From time to time my grandma would pick her up and take her to dinner and I would show up at the restaurant. I remember pulling up and being greeted by my sister with the biggest hug. This hug wasn’t a warm hug though. It was a tight and clingy kind of hug. It was the kind of hug you see in the movies that involves someone running and clinging onto a person they see in hopes that they would help them reach safety. When my sister let go she looked at me and her innocent eyes were replaced with tired  and pained ones. She said something that would haunt me for years. “Sissy”, she said, “When is mom going to die so you can be my mom again?”. After those words the promise I had made to her caught on fire and that fire carried a determination to one day keep her safe. I knew that God would help me to make it happen. After two years of constant struggles and numerous hotlines they finally put my sister in a safe group home that would meet her needs. My sister still went through a lot. While in the home she developed schizophrenia. Her eyes still haven’t returned that innocent look that I loved so much but I do see happiness in them. Although my mom still has custody, she is closely watched and monitored by social workers and the people who facilitate the group home she is currently in. My sister loves the independence she feels in her group home. In her eyes she’s just like her sissy who lives on her own. I am still not allowed to see her much but I know in God’s timing I will have the ability to see her more and have more of a say in her life and in her treatment. It’s hard to wait sometimes but I have seen God work miracles in getting her out of the home so I know that he will give me the opportunity to be involved in her life as well. I just have to wait on his timing. He holds those promises that I made to my sister close to his heart and he won’t let me break them. Patience is a virtue. The best is yet to come…