ESSAY CONTESTS www.TheCitizensWhoCare.org 3rd "Through My Eyes" Essay Contest Winners A booklet called Through My Eyes contains the top 25 essays and will be available in early May for $5.00 at Words & Pictures, 407 Oak Street, Brookings, OR 97415. 100% of the proceeds from the sale of this booklet go to support these contests. Booklets from the first two contests are also available. Grand Prize Winner First Runner Up Second Runner Up Third Runner Up Fourth Runner Up Fifth Runner Up Sixth Runner Up Seventh Runner Up Eighth Runner Up Background Grand Prize Winner - Anonymous My mother married an alcoholic when I was two, and when I was five I received my first black eye. My step dad stumbled into the house from the bar around ten in the morning damanding I pour him a cup of coffee. He terrified me, and I always obeyed. He told me not to forget the sugar, and I started crying when I realized we had none left. I was only five years old and I didn't know what to do so I put salt in it instead. I very carefully set the cup of coffee next to him and ran to my room. Seconds later he was screaming for me to come to him. I was so scared, I hid under my bed hoping he wouldn't find me. Unfortunately that was my usual hiding spot and he found me right away. He pulled me out from under my bed by my hair; I screamed from the pain. He yelled at me to stop, but I kept trying to get away. I was scared of him, but I always tried to fight back. I kicked and screamed and threw my tiny fists at him, but none of this made a difference. Once more he said "Stop or else," and once again I kept fighting him. It was the greatest pain I ever felt when he hit me with his giant fist. When my mother got home from work she saw my eye and started crying hysterically asking how it happened. At that very moment my step father walked into the room with his sly smile and told her I fell. I screamed at him and told my mother what really happened. Of couse he denied everying and even had the nerve to put his arm around me as he said he would never dream of hurting his little angel. Like the enabler she was, my mother believed him. Deep down she knew he was lying, but she wanted so badly for it to be untrue that she sacrificed her child's safety for "the perfect family image." Later that week my step dad bought me one of those electric jeeps for little kids to drive. I didn't understand why he did that. I thought maybe it was his way of apologizing, so I just forgave and forgot. On my mother's 32nd birthday we had a huge party; all her friends and family were invited. Like most celebrations, there was of course, plenty of alcohol. My mother was quite the lightweight, and she was really drunk by her fourth beer. After about seven beers and a couple shots she passed out. She was put to bed very early into the party by my aunt. The party was nowhere close to over for my step dad; he decided it was over when he ran out of alcohol to drink. When everyone left he tried looking for his hidden stash of whiskey, the stash my mother secretly poured down the sink. After serching and searching he knew that there was no way he would find it. He was used to blaming everything on me, so he automatically assumed it was me. I ran to my mother and tried to wake her but she wasn't waking up any time soon. My step father demanded that I told him that I got rid of it and very robotically I obeyed. That's when he took off his thick leather belt and proceded to whip my enitire body until I bled. I was seven years old. He then told me that if I ever told anyone that he would kill my mother. I never told my mother; I was afraid he would seriously do it. The physical abuse occured almost daily; I would get slapped around if I did so little as putting my elbows on the table. My mother just watched with tears in her eyes. When I was eight, my little sister was born, and that's when things sort of turned around. My step dad quit drinking and everyone seemed happier. I was the happiest. I loved my baby sister so much. I always wanted to be with her and help my mom with her. My mother always called me the "little mamma" and I was in a way; I watched over her as if I were her mother. My step dad would get really angry when she would cry late at night, so I would rush to her room and hold her so she would stop crying I was so afraid he might hurt her. When my little sister was six months old my step dad lost his job driving trucks and went back to drinking. Our family fell apart once again, and once again I had to go to school and convince the school counselor that my bruises were from playing rough with the boys, a lie I hated telling. When I was ten my step dad put me in the hospital for burning his toast. Thats when I had it, and I ran away to my uncle's house. And shortly after that we moved to Oregon. I lived here for about five years with my aunt and uncle. I worked all the time and mailed my mom all the money I earned. When I was fifteen my mom moved here with my sister to get away from my step dad. Things were great for a long time untill my step dad found out where we were living. He was so angry that my mother left him he became a raging lunatic. He beat me so severely that I was in the hospital for two weeks. My mother finally got enough nerve to tell the police and he was put in jail. My mother is now remarried to a wonderful man who would never hurt my family. First Runner-Up - Matt Miller It all started back when I was four years of age. My father was starting to come home drunk more and more. He was very nice when he was sober, but when my uncle and he were together drinking things got out of hand. I can remember one night my sisters and I were in our room playing when my dad came through the door and started to beat us, because we were playing loudly with our toys. At first the beatings only happened once in a while, but as time went on, they started happening more often. I remember one night, that my uncle and dad were in the living room drinking and things started getting crazy. I woke up from them being loud, and I walked out of my room to see what all the noise was, and it was my dad and my uncle having sex and they told me to come over there. I was too young to know what they were going to do to me, but when I got over there they started to take my clothes off. I started to yell; all of a sudden my dad hit me across the face and told me to be quiet. While my dad and my uncle raped me I was crying because of the pain in my face and what they were going to me because they were drunk. The alcohol kept the beating coming until one day when I played with matches. When I got caught, I blamed it on my sister Amanda, and my dad took her out of the room. When he did that, he locked my sister and me in my room and took her in the kitchen. When he got her to the kitchen he turned the burner on and put both of her hands on the burner until they were almost third degree burnt. At that moment I had guilt for what I did and was so sorry. That day we were taken away from our parents and put in foster care for our first time. So in my life I have had to deal with the effects that have come out of being abused both physically and sexually. Every day I have to look at myself in the mirror and see someone who has been used and abused for being born. I also have to live with what happened to my sister because of me. Today I am in my fourth foster home, because my sisters and I were abused by the family that adopted us. We have been back in foster care for almost a year again. Although life has been rough, we still manage to keep each other strong and are able to move on with life and everything that we are going through. Second Runner Up - Kelli Moore There once was a young girl named Darla. She was smart, talented, and very beautiful. To Darla the words family and alcoholism often ran in the same sentence. Through her eyes… Alcoholism is a disease, not a joke. Everyday started off the same for Darla. She woke up on her own and got herself and her sister ready for school. She did the cooking, cleaning, and even had to help raise her sister. For most, being young is easy. To Darla, it was a struggle and she was all alone. Her mom was always drinking and she even drank when she was pregnant with Darla’s sister, Julie. Her sister also grew up with alcoholic parents, and was not as strong as Darla. Julie was pregnant at the age of 12 and was heading down her parents path. Christmas time, Birthdays, Weddings, and even Funerals were all the same. Any excuse to drink and her family would. No family gathering was ever happy. No family gathering was ever normal. When Darla took the SAT’s in school she was too embarrassed to be picked up by her dad because he was too drunk to drive. But that was better than them forgetting about her, like they often did. This was frequent for Darla, she felt as if her dad was permanently drunk. Darla never had friends spend the night and never had boyfriends over to pick her up. Then she met Ken and he quickly became all she had. The first time Ken came to Darla’s house her father answered the door with spaghetti on his head. Her mom and dad had been cooking in the kitchen and as always, they were drunk. One day, Darla’s dad pushed her mom and she fell and broke her arm. That was the day Darla knew she would never have a sip of alcohol as long as she lived. Darla decided that the decades of alcoholism in her family would end there. But the battle for her was not over. Soon after that, Darla’s mom died after a long fight with alcoholism at only 45 years old. Darla then lost her big sister, and father. She loved her family and was heart broken when they were gone. Her father was successful, her mom seemed happy, and from the outside they appeared normal. But what couldn't be seen was that they were sick with a disease that had far reaching consequences. It was hard for Darla. She felt as if alcoholism had stolen from her... It had taken her family and her happiness to. Thirty years later Darla is still smart, just as talented, and even more beautiful. She has a loving happy family and she is thankful for what God has given her. I would know… because she is my mom. I know that her parents alcoholism took a lot out of my mom at that time and hurt her so much but it made her who she is today…The perfect mom. Third Runner Up - Anonymous I will never forget that morning I got the call. The call that told me I had lost one of my best friends. Anyone who knew Peter was lucky. He was someone you wanted to be around because is personality was infectious and he made everyone around him happy. The only thing was his happy personality was not all real, but merely a mask to hide what was underneath, which was sadness. He was so much pain and he wanted nothing more but to get rid of it. Eventually peter found a way to hide his pain. What was his short-term cure? Alcohol. What in turn killed him? Alcohol. Little did he know that alcohol was really what was making him more depressed. He didn't realise that though, because when he drank it made him feel happy and normal. He became an alcoholic. Nobody knew how sad he was. I knew. I knew the pain he was in. I tried to help him as much as I could but my trying never succeeded. As much as I tried and as much effort as he put into it, he just couldn't . he wanted so desperately to stop but his addiction was to strong. When he wasn't drinking he felt helpless I blamed myself for peters death for so long because all I could keep telling myself is that you could have tried a little harder. It was so hard to watch him drink because every sip he took you knew he was just trying to drink away his problems. I remember one time in particular when I was staying at his house with his sister and we had just fallen asleep. Peter quietly snuck into the room like he did every time i stayed there and asked me to come watch t.v. with him. He used to make me stay up all night and talk with him no matter how tired i was. That’s how we became so close. So as we were watching t.v he got up and said he was hungry. I knew what he was doing, so i got up and went into the kitchen and I saw him standing there in the dark chugging a bottle of vodka. When he realised I was standing there he quickly put it behind his back as if I wouldn't know. before I could say anything he told me how sorry he was. I knew he didn't want to disappoint me and I knew he thought he had. I just hugged him and told him he didn't have to be sorry. I wish now that i would have taken that bottle away. Peter was intoxicated the night he died. He just wanted to take a “drive” with his friends. Because of alcohol peter could not function normally to drive and was driving to fast. Because of alcohol he was unable to see the turn ahead of him, and he missed it. Because of alcohol he went straight into the embankment. Because of alcohol peter lost his life. Alcohol is deadly and because of its negative effects I lost my best friend. Fourth Runner Up - Anonymous Alcohol and my life, I guess you could say they kind of go together. My life has been affected by alcohol in more than one way. It’s sad really. Lets start with my parents. My father, a 48 year old man; no job, life, or friends. This is all due to his severe addiction to alcohol. My mom and him divorced when my twin brother and I were 5. Not just because of his addiction, sadly my mom has the same problem. My mother, a 44 year old bartender, got stuck with the genetics of her alcoholic parents, also known as the “alcohol gene”. I am happy though that her problem is not severe, and is easily fixed because she has two active teens that keep her busy. So now after seeing alcohol at it’s worst, affecting the people that I love, you’d think I would stay away from the terrible drug. Wrong. Well sort of. A night that I would like to call the worst night of my life was all due to alcohol and it’s bad affects. December 2nd , 2006, I’ll never forget it. That was the first time I had ever drank. Also the first time I felt what alcoholism could do to someone, and also the very last time I will ever touch it. The night started out with two of my good friends and I driving around doing absolutely nothing. We ended up at the beach and saw a friend we don’t usually consult with. She told us about how she was going to be babysitting and wanted us to hang out, she said “it would be fun.” About an hour later we were at a vacant house with a 4 year old child, a few good friends, and unlimited alcohol. My friend Angela and I thought, well we have never done it before and one time won’t hurt anything. Sadly, we were wrong. We ended up drinking an excess amount and passing out. While we were still passed out, the ambulance, cops, and our parents showed up. Luckily, it was not bad enough for an emergency trip to the hospital. The next morning was a nightmare. I woke up in my living room, sick as a dog. I immediately ran to my room and called a friend that did not drink, but was present. While I cried my eyes out, she told me the whole story. I never knew that alcohol has that large of an affect over your body. Two friends and I received MIP’s. That consisted of court dates, alcohol classes, and fines. All that and the knowledge that I hurt my friends, family, and my body. I realized that I would never do that again. To this day, February 22nd 2008, I have not touched as much as a drop of alcohol. When I said it was my first and last time drinking, I stuck to it. I still live in a small town where drinking is what teens do. I have proudly chosen to remain sober, even when my friends do not, that also resulting into my new nick name “#1 DD(designated driver).” Fifth Runner Up - Anonymous My dad is an alcoholic. I don’t know exactly how old I was when I realized all of the anger and frustration came from alcohol, but what I do know is I grew up afraid of my dad and that feeling was the worst feeling imaginable! Alcohol ruined my childhood, and I didn’t drink a drop. I remember finding beer cans under the bathroom sinks and hard alcohol bottles under some newspaper in the garage or shed. My mom tried telling my dad to get help but he always insisted he didn’t have a problem and he would just stop drinking altogether. That never lasted. I was 15 years old, I remember because I had just got my permit. I know when my dad started to play rough with my little sisters that he’d been drinking. One night in particular I was feeling brave and decided to tell my dad how I felt. I told him when he drank too much he always hurt my little sisters and it needed to stop. He started to yell and he told me he wasn’t drunk even though he was almost falling over with every step. He was completely wasted and everyone in the house knew it. He got closer and closer to me and grabbed my arm, I yanked away and ran downstairs to my mom. She heard what was going on upstairs and went towards my dad to talk to him. As she was walking towards him she saw he was heading towards the gun safe. Barefooted and scared for our lives we ran out the back door, got into my mom’s car, and drove away as fast as we could. That night we ended up staying at a hotel, we thought it best to let my dad cool down before we went back. The next morning we drove home and found that the doors were all locked. We knocked and he came to the door after just waking up. We went in, he went back to bed, and that night was never talked about again. I wish I could say that was the only thing that ever happened when my dad drank, but that was just a minor instance. I don’t know why my dad went towards that gun safe, but I do know that alcohol changes people for the worse. Sober, my dad was an amazing person. But when he drank he became abusive and caused his family to walk on eggshells around him in fear that he would snap at any moment. For the past year or so my dad has cut down on his drinking and has not laid a hand on me or my sisters for some time. I believe when he chose to drink less, he chose to save our family. I have so much respect for him for making the right decision. I love my dad unconditionally and think he is incredible person, I just wish he would have realized sooner that alcohol was killing the people that loved him the most. Sixth Runner Up - Anonymous I'm drinking and partying again. He's watching me, eyes full of desire. I don't mind: I like this attention. I eel sexy, empowered, wanted. Next thing I know I'm drunk and we're kissing. He leads me into a room. We're on the bed. It's okay though because I can stop whenever I want to. Truth is I don't want to stop. I love the way I'm making him feel. I feel needed, even if just for a night. I wake up the next morning. He's in the bed with me. My clothes are on. I'm thankful yet disgusted with the situation. I sneak out of the room, careful not to wake him. I don't want to talk about it, don't what to think about it, just want to leave. I take a shower but it doesn't wash away what happened. Maybe it wouldn't feel as bad if this were one of the first times. But it's not. As I'm in the shower I think back to the time I got so drunk I cheated on one of my most serious boyfriends, or the time that I was drinking and got taken advantage of by one of my childhood friends, and while he got labeled a stud, I was labeled a whore. Not to mention the other countless times I've drank to hook up with people just to feel needed and wanted. Unfortunately this is a typical story for a high school girl. Thankfully, nothing life threatening or significantly life changing happened to me before my eyes opened. I realized on my own and with the help of true friends that I'm better than that. Although the reasons for all my actions are not always clear, one thing is, if alcohol had not been present, none of it would have happened. Being in high school is one of the most difficult times as an adolescent, and with alcohol being available around every corner it doesn't make it much easier. Alcohol, (which sometimes seems a temporary fix to permanent problems) is just one reason teens start to drink. The media does not help this problem either. With popular song lyrics such as "Lets get drunk and forget what we did," egging us on all the time, it's very hard to resist the temptation to drink. So this is my cry to high school girls: I know what it feels like to lose yourself, but please don't turn to alcohol as an escape. It not only can make you do things that you are ashamed of, but you may find yourself in a worse state of mind than you began with. The attention you get from boys while consuming alcohol is fake and temporary no matter that they may say. Take time to discover your true passions in life. Surround yourself with activities that don't involve drinking but give you just as much satisfaction. You owe it to yourself. And if you think that it's too late to get out of it, it's not. You just have to open your eyes. Seventh Runner Up - Anonymous Of all social pressures that plague our youth today, Alcohol is the hardest one to avoid. I know all to well. Growing up the way me and my peers did, we had more access to glimpses of the adult world then any generations before us. We can turn on any TV station, go on-line, and watch people get hammered. Alcohol has been used in pop culture more then any other illicit pleasure. From the National Lampoon wild, crazy frat boy movies, Homer Simpson and his love of Duff Beer, and even a TV show about a bar where everyone knew your name, Alcohol has been a substantial part of pop culture for years. So naturally, I decided when I was young to imitate my heroes. Like a young boy throwing a towel around his neck to be superman, I decided to take Jaeger shots. The first encounter with alcohol I had was at a hotel. Me and my friends had rented a room to party. We had our good supply of assorted Beer and Spirits, and some marijuana. We were set to roll. I don't remember too much of that night. I remember one of our friends had the genius idea to blow fireballs with the booze in his mouth, and set the fire alarm off. I stumbled down to the beach with my friend and lit up a cigarette. I ended waking up in an empty hot tub, my face sprinkled with crumbs of Chili Cheese Corn Chips. After that party, I had to walk home. The cold morning air set the mood for some reflective thinking, in which I started thinking about the night before. Granted, though it was fun at the time, I couldn't help but feel bad. I walked by people in the street, and they would wave, people I knew, and they never knew I was hungover. Then I got a feeling like I was scum. I had to get my kicks using cheap substances, load myself with illicit toxins, forget about life. Real life. I felt like I missed the point of what life was about, and how I destroyed my sense of ever having natural pleasure again. It's a weird feeling. I was a criminal. What I did was a somewhat severe crime. It doesn't seem like much, but I ended up having these weird paranoid thoughts. I had visions of Police Officers busting into the hotel room and beating me with nightsticks. And then I came to reality. I think the worst part of the entire morning after was going home, and not being able to tell anyone what I did. I had this real low criminal feeling, and everyone was so oblivious. Granted, that wouldn't be the last time I drank, but I soon realized as my senior year approached, that binge drinking and getting high was only a cheap form of escape. Anybody can pump their self full of intoxicants. It takes a real person to find joy in natural things. Eighth Runner Up - Anonymous We’re going for a ride, just me, Mommy and, my little sister. We don’t drive for long and are soon at a store I’ve never seen before; I wish I could read. Mommy quickly turns around in her seat and says, “Stay, I’ll be right back." We sit and wait for what seemed like forever! Here she comes, she has something; it’s a brown paper bag. She gets in the car, I ask, “What did you get Mommy?” She does not answer; she only continues to drink from her paper bag. We’re driving around silently; I don’t understand why mommy won’t share her drink with us. Mommy starts to pull into the driveway but does not remove her seat belt. She is looking at me very angrily. I now understand that she intends to leave my sister and myself here by ourselves. What I don’t understand is why she would leave a two year old and a six year old home alone. All I know is that my sister needs me to take care of her, she is just as confused as I am but more so. Mommy hasn’t come home yet and it’s almost dark. Daddy should be home from work soon and will be mad that mommy left us alone. My auntie has always told me that if we get scared to call her and she will come and get us. It’s been a couple of hours and I’ve finally decided to call her. She seems very worried that mommy had left. She asked me where we went today, I told her about the store and the strange paper bag. She quickly responds saying she would be there in a couple minutes. She wasn’t lying, she’s here and it seemed like no time at all. She pulls in and I immediately run to her and start to sob. She does nothing but holds me and says everything is going to be ok. My sobs are interrupted by the sound of Daddy’s truck. He begins pulling into the driveway; he and auntie make eye contact. Why is Daddy so sad? Why is auntie leaving? Mommy’s car then pulls into the driveway. Mommy is in the passenger seat and it looks like she’s sleeping. Is mommy sick? What is wrong? Dad goes outside; he picks mom up and takes her to their room. He lays her down turns to me and says, “Mommy needs to sleep now.” Auntie looks at me, she can see the hurt and fear in my eyes, she knows that mommy scares me when she is like this; she knows mommy is like this a lot. She goes into my room, packs some clothes for my sister and me, turns to us and says, “Come on, you’re staying at my house tonight. Auntie’s house makes everything better. As I grew older I had learned that on that night my mom was drinking alcohol while she was driving. My aunt had found her and her car parked in an empty parking lot. I’m not the only person whose life has been affected by alcohol but I wish I was the last. Contact Us for information regarding future Contests. TheCitizensWhoCare.org was developed and is maintained by Gordon Clay Through My Eyes™ is a registered trademarks of Gordon Clay ©2007-2011, www.TheCitizensWhoCare.org/brookings/throughmyeyeswinnersIII.html