“The Circus” by Albina Felski
As the oldest daughter of a mixed family of full-, half-, and step- siblings totaling 7, myself included, I often was left responsible for care taking all of them while mother and stepfather drank at the bar until it closed. The first accusation came when they took me aside and asked me if I had inappropriately touched my youngest sibling (and only sister.) I would pay a kingdom’s gold to have seen the look on my face. They said she told them I did something to her. I never brought it up to her at any time, but from that day forward, I didn’t like her, even though she was just a toddler. Years later, I learned from the wife of my next youngest sibling that the brother just older than him had forced her and that sibling to act out sexually on each other when he watched. Maybe my little sister was trying to tell our parents about it but it came out sounding like my name? It was all water under the bridge at that point, as by then my sister and I’s relationship was long-estranged.
Fucked up parents too
often raised fucked up children –
secrets silent screams.
The second time was at age 18, in my first non-babysitting job, working as a clerk at a small town bakery. Part of the job was using the cash register and leaving a balance of the register at the end of the shift. I’d been there about a year with no problems, when they hired a younger teenager, the daughter of a friend. She also used the cash register. I got a call one day from Mr. K, the owner/baker/boss, and he asked me if I had been stealing from the register. I denied it, and nothing was said again by them about it, but I couldn’t forget his accusation. My loyalty to the place was gone. Being a wild child back in those days, I’d hooked up with a friend of a friend and we were wrapped up in each other. Morning came but I didn’t go to work. I remember Mr. K on the phone, frantic, as it was graduation cake season, and nobody was there to work. I told him I wasn’t coming in, and I never went back.
Too dumb to count plus
too dumb to add two and two –
minus one good worker.
The third time was around age 20, working doing food prep and cashier duties at a pizza shop while going to community college. When I closed, the register was balanced and the money was put in a garbage bag underneath the garbage bag in one of the trash bins. One day, I was paged at the community college and came to the phone. My boss asked me if I had stolen the money. I said no. She said would I please come in to work when done with my classes. I said yes. I remember walking in to the pizza shop; the day shift stared at me accusingly. The boss and I went over the procedures one more time. Yes, I put the money in the bag under the bag in the trash bin. I was allowed to leave and that was that. Later, my boss called back. She’d gone out to the landfill where the bags were dumped, searched through them and found the missing money. The day shift had tossed it in the trash. It wasn’t the accusation that had me quitting there though, it was the high school teacher boyfriend of the boss who moonlighted at the pizza place that continued to sexually harass me in front of one of his male students who also worked there, that did.
Blamed not blaming, but
blamed left for blindness of boss –
kitchen’s too crowded.
Amaya Engleking is today’s host at dVerse. Amaya says:
Write something that needs to be said, and ‘dance like no one’s watching.’ Don’t be like the tv shows, ever coming up with the next sensational thing just to get a rise. Go to your most secret place and do something courageous: be yourself. When your poem is posted to your blog, link it up and then read and comment on the other poems. Just in case one of us is captured by the thought police and thrown into prison, the dVerse Poets Pub has been full of stimulating camaraderie, and it was all worth it.
Tao Talk 
To be accused when innocent has to be terrible… I don’t think it has ever happened to me… but I have been found guilty of stealing (once and the only time I stole)
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Our parents were too wrapped up in working and drinking when they weren’t working to pay attention to much. As at 15 year old trying to supervise 6 younger siblings, I did the best I could. To be accused is one thing. To learn the truth years later, after so much water under the bridge, is a real tragedy in a lot of ways.
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Yes, I thought the same; how sad that went on, that you got falsely accused and that nothing got solved. And the garbage bag incident was just very predictable, not a very good system to keep money safe. Very compelling post, MsJadeLi!
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Bang on, sister, three powerhouse remembrances, with flashy haiku borders. That first memory was the one that hit me emotionally. I once was blamed for leaving the keys in a company car that got stolen. It was a frame. I had illegally made my own set of keys, and never used theirs. So they repremanded me for copying the keys; what assholes.
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Ugh, the world of work is necessary until retiring, but oh the crap that has to be put up with while doing it!
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All these show the injustice of being accused while innocent. Great writing Li
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Thank you, Sadje. Not a good feeling to be falsely accused! It leaves its mark.
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It scars for life. And people who are doing it seldom have regrets. They think saying that they are sorry is enough.
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Three ugly incidents. The first is the worst because it was in the ‘safe’ place of home. I’m glad you can look them in the eye and say you’re over it though.
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I’m not speaking to any of them, so there is no looking them in the eye. It’s not about this particular incident. My family is toxic to me, and I’m not drinking the poison anymore.
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It’s a shame for that to happen to anyone. You have your own family now, one that I hope functions as a family should.
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Thank you for your supportive comment, Jane. I still do have connections with a couple of my brothers and some cousins. My immediate family of two sons and their significant others functions well. Over the years, friends seem to have filled in the empty spaces left by the others.
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There’s always a limit to the connections you can keep up even if you’re still on good terms. I hardly ever see any of my family because we are scattered too far apart geographically. There are families that live in one another’s laps, never moved further away than the next street and detest one another. We make a life with what we’ve got. There’s no perfect ‘family’ situation.
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Good writing, Lisa. Couldn’t have been easy to remember, let alone write. You are a strong, strong woman!
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Thank you, Susan. It wasn’t easy to write, especially the first one. In my world I have had to learn to be strong or die (in a figurative sense, but sometimes in a literal sense.)
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Sounds like we’ve lead parallel lives, Lisa. I’m sorry you had to go through that hell.
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Thank you. So sorry to hear you’ve had similar experiences.
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Gosh Lisa your stories evoked some memories I had long forgotten from childhood and early teens, It disturbed me to remember them so your writing touched me deeply. I’m sorry you had to experience those unkind and wicked accusations. There is truth in ‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’ however they fail to say, ‘but it can really fuck you up’ ☺️❤️
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WELL SAID. They leave their marks. Christine, I’m so sorry they brought back unpleasant memories for you.
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Oh nothing I can’t handle these days Lisa! 🙂 I’m fine, thank you for caring 💕
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❤
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Our integrality is so important. When it is challenged it is and affront on who we are as individual!
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Yes it is, Dwight. I understand why the folks had to question me after what my sister said, but it hurt so bad. With the bosses, it made me angry, but underneath it was pain at the idea they believed I could do it.
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That is a tough one for both you and them!
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I think back to the eighties when my parents let me run all over the neighborhood all day long and play with the other kids. What were they thinking?! I wonder now as a mother in a traumatized and petrified world. There was sexual abuse, although as kids as young as probably your siblings were at the time, we had no idea it was wrong. Just exploration. like we did the canal, the woods, the garden. Bodies. I have a lot of shame now because of those days and carry it with me as I try to shield my own children. I wish your parents had been there for you. I wish everyone would know from birth that others’ bodies are not for exploring or god forbid exploiting.
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Amaya, I hope you’re able to process the shame and let it fade at some point. Parents are supposed to be there to guide us through childhood, but so many times the parents get so wrapped up in their personal dramas that the kids fall by the wayside. Unsupervised or poorly supervised kids are like baby animals in the jungle, vulnerable to attack. Too many times though those who harm are within their very homes.
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kaykuala
It is terrible to be an accused person when innocent. Good thing it did not do untold damage as it could well end up as a a police case that stained for life! Great writing Jade! You said it as it is!
Hank
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Hank, thank you. You’re right, it could have been worse.
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your strength shines in each line. powerful memories, deep scars, birthing the brave woman that is you.
haiku wrap-ups are so well done.
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Thank you very much for your kind words.
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Such potent haikus… all that rage of being wrongly accused, simmering somewhere deep inside… it takes courage to share, Li. I admire you for going back. ❤️
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Punam, I don’t think it was ever rage as much as hurt and disappointment, but you’re right, it’s been there a long time. Thank you for your sensitive and thoughtful comment ❤
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I stand corrected, Li. Yes, it must have been hurt and disappointment then. You are so welcome. ❤️
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❤
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The taboo is powerful when overlaid by injustice, it simply makes it even more stark – absolutely real.
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Paul, thank you for your insights.
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Happy to throw my ramblings in 🙂
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🙂 your ramblings are always welcome
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😀
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You described the situation around those taboos very well. I can feel the hurt you must have felt and I suspect I would probably have quit as well. Nice last line about the kitchen being too crowded.
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Frank, thank you for your comments.
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How brave of you to write about this Lisa. It is a horrible feeling to be accused of something you didn’t do.
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Linda, thank you.
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Oh No.. i’m sorry.. i was thinking those were paragraphs that happened
to someone else.. anyway abuse of ‘that kind ‘can’t be too rare
as Just about every Woman i’ve ever known closely has
Reported the Worst of Taboos
Done to them..
Sadly so much more
Horrific than even these…
but at least they could
trust me enough to tell me..:)
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You’re right, it’s happening all over the place, to women, children of both genders, and men (prison assaults are rarely taken seriously) and what keeps it going is the silence of the victims (and lack of proper response.) My sister was a victim and she tried to tell but my folks didn’t take it beyond their questioning me. The police need to get involved and the victims need forensic interviewing.
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Yes and it Truly
Will Stain An
Ability
FoR A PErson
To Ever Fully Trust
Or Even Experience
Love Death
Of A Soul
Lust of
A Soulless
HeART Sadly
Often A Vicious
Cycle of
Stained
Spirit
Where Victim
Is Accused as
Predator instead
For its True it
Often Leads
To Personality
Disorders Where
Victim Becomes
Blamed For
What is
Taken Away
Only those Who
Walk in the Victim’s
Shoes will possibly
Understand what’s
Lost
So
Far away…
From even Living….
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Frederick, you’re so right, that the predator steals souls. If you are blessed, you can find yours again.
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Yes!
Anything
Is Possible
When Love Is Real!
Yes! So Healing!
And
No
Longer
Taboo
Only For Sale..:)
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Injustice is hard to overlook..and writing about it brings some small relief in the end, Jade. Well told.
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Thank you, Judy.
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When I was in probably 3rd grade I was walking to the bus stop on a rainy day. I stopped at my friend’s house to see if she wanted to walk under my umbrella. She said her dad was giving her a ride and did I want to come with them. I said sure and she said she would just run up to check with her dad. From the downstairs I heard her father tell her, “She didn’t come here to see if you wanted to go under the umbrella, she wanted a ride. She is a sneaky, little girl.” I stood there, with my umbrella, not knowing what to do. I got in their car and got to school. I have never forgotten how I felt that day and whenever someone accuses me of lying I get super offensive…
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Sounds like something a thoughtless adult would say without batting an eye, oblivious to the messages being sent to the kids. I feel sorry for your little friend also 😦
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Right?!?! I never heard from her after high school. All I know is that in high school she was in the sort of outkast group, not goth, but different. Probably part rebellion for asshole parents.
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Responses to this prompt are a revelation. How much burden do we carry? Creative kinds are able to channelize it. What about the rest?
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Good questions, Reena.
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With no answers…
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Brave and strong piece!
Also therapeutic, to go through such old grudges. I’ve come to see that we carry those young versions of us with us always. Their emotions mixing into ours, triggering old wounds. Contact with that inner child, telling him, her in your case, as an adult how it wasn’t your fault, or even if it was, it’s okay to do mistakes and fail. That what she had to experience wasn’t right and not your fault. I at least felt so guilty for my parents drinking and abuse and neglect, somehow I blamed myself. Closed myself. But Now I’m on a path again, path of growth and recovery, part of this process called life.
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Anthony, your comment is heartfelt and appreciated. You’re right about carrying those younger versions along, in our bones, in our souls. You’re right its therapeutic to go through them, and if you’re blessed enough to have a support person or support group to go through them with you, over time, their ghosts fade and leave space for fully connecting with the now experiences.
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Yes, it was amazing how the emotions and memories come to mind at the rate you can process them. Bubble up from subconcious, from Dreams or trigger experiences. But yeah, theme was to be naked self so I went with it also here 😉🤓
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