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Unstable: She Was Not Supposed to Survive

The day her womb was killed was the day a rage was birthed inside her that would seek revenge for her innocence stolen. On August 9th, 2006, the Stephanie that everyone knew and loved died in spirit. She was reborn a new creature. The pedophile did not realize that his dirty deed would later cause hell to be released on all those who crossed her path. She attempted to battle her inner demons and contain the rage, but she lost and the rage won. Stephanie's violator was about to see the result of years of suppressed rage. Unstable was created to tell the story of a little girl who went through an extremely dramatic experience, well beyond anything that I could ever imagine going through. The story describes what could happen when the psyche of a child is broken and the pain is buried within. Stephanie is the product of hate and a blatant disregard for human life. Some details of this story are hard to swallow. Unfortunately, tragic and incomprehensible events like this happen all the time. It's reality. It's the truth. Prepare yourself for Unstable.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

UnstableShe was not supposed to surviveBy EVA TREMAINEAuthorHouseCopyright © 2011 Eva TremaineAll right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4490-9788-2 Chapter OneBroken I tried to scream But it's as if I had no voice I tried to fight But had no choice I lay here Broken, battered, and abused I am only five Why am I filled with your nasty fluids? 9-1-1 She lay in the back of the ambulance, fighting for her life. When they found her in the crack house, it was 3:00 a.m. For over twelve hours, she had been lying there soaked in blood and semen with a sheet stuck to her burnt skin. They found her half naked, broken, battered, and abused. Her right arm was broken, as well as three ribs and her jaw. She had suffered a severe concussion and bruises covered her body from head to toe. The hospital had to sedate Stephanie for days to allow the burns to heal. Her insides were ripped to shreds. The 911 operator received a call at 2:47 a.m., stating a female child had been found in an abandoned house on Woodward Avenue. Wanda had stumbled into the crack house looking for Leroy, her on-again, off-again boyfriend. They usually hooked up in the midnight hours, but this morning, she was unable to find him. So, she went to the crack house to see if anyone had seen him. He better not be in there getting high without me, Wanda thought. The house appeared abandoned, except for two fiends passed out in the corner on the main floor. Wanda proceeded upstairs to see if he was in one of the bedrooms. The place was a complete dump, void of electricity or running water. Trash and used needles littered the floors and the smell was unbearable. In the main bedroom, Tracy sat posted up against the wall in a zombie-like state, unmoving and lifeless. Everyone knew where Tracy went to get high, so it was no surprise to see her there. As Wanda entered the bedroom to her left, a burning stench smacked her in the face. She gasped as she entered the room and saw a blood-covered child on the hardwood floor. Upon closer examination, she was able to see a little girl who looked to be only a few years old. She began to cry hysterically once she removed the sheet and saw the half-naked body of the child. The little girl that lay lifeless was Stephanie, Tracy's five-year-old daughter. She was naked from the waist down. Blood was smeared between her tiny thighs. Stephanie was a little innocent angel who did not deserve this. Who would do such a thing to a little girl? Stephanie's Raggedy Ann doll, Millie, lay on the floor next to her. Millie was a gift from her father. He had given it to her the first day he came to see her. Stephanie would not go anywhere without that doll. Wanda dropped to her knees and cradled Stephanie, trying to speak life back into her. "Baby, please don't die. Lord, help this child." She checked for a pulse, preparing for the worse. When she found a faint one, she ran down the stairs as fast as she could to get to a payphone to call for help. "9-1-1, what is the emergency?" "Please come quick! I think she's dying!" * * * They did not think Stephanie would live. The hospital treated many rape victims before. This case, however, appeared to be one of the worst. When they brought her to the emergency room, she was barely clinging on to life. The vicious rape destroyed her internal organs, and she had to have surgery to piece her insides back together. They created a rape kit in hopes of finding a DNA match. Stephanie remained in the hospital for several weeks while the doctors and nurses tried to bring her back physically and emotionally. She did not utter a word while she was in the hospital and was extremely withdrawn. She only sat there, clutching Millie as if her life depended on it. Detroit, Michigan, was the home of many dope fiends, and Stephanie's mom, Tracy, was no stranger to the needle. She was a straight drug addict, and when she was strung out, she was known to do anything to get a fix, including selling her body. Up to this point, the authorities had not removed Stephanie from the home. Tracy had a few close calls, but she always managed to pull it together right before the authorities started action to remove Stephanie. The only reason Stephanie survived was due to the kindness of her neighbors. They all saw how unfit Tracy was and tried to do what they could for Stephanie. Nobody wanted to call the authorities on Tracy for fear of Stephanie ending up in foster care. Tracy had used drugs for so long that her once "stop `em dead in their tracks" body was long gone. She allowed others to abuse her body in ways you could not imagine, being stuck and prodded in almost every hole imaginable. She had sores covering most of her arms and some on her neck. She was definitely not the dimepiece she used to be. Everything was saggy and used up, and no dealer would touch her with a ten-inch fork. She had nothing to trick for some drugs. However, there was one dealer, Juice, who constantly told her how cute her daughter Stephanie was and would always ask if he could babysit her. Stephanie had the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. He did not have any kids of his own, and he loved children, especially little girls. One Wednesday afternoon, at approximately two o'clock, Juice seized the moment when he saw Tracy and Stephanie approaching the building. He looked around to make sure nobody was watching. Like an animal hunting their prey, he had stalked Stephanie and was going in for the kill. "Hello, Tracy. Hey, baby girl! How is my little angel doing?" "I am fine," said Stephanie, smiling. "How is Millie doing?" "She is fine, too!" "Is that a new dress?" "Yup, my mom made it for her," Stephanie replied, beaming. "Do you want some candy?" Stephanie looked up at her mother for approval. "Take the candy, baby. So ... um ... Juice, do you think I could get some candy, too?" Juice just looked at her pitifully and laughed. "Okay, I tell you what. If you let me take Stephanie to the park to play on the swings, I will give you some of my sweet candy." He handed Tracy a small bag of cocaine. Tracy looked down at the cocaine and then at Stephanie. Juice had a huge smirk on his face. "How about I let you hit this instead?" "Hit what? Nobody want your stank ass. I ain't trying to catch no diseases messing with your nasty ass. You either let me take Stephanie to the park or you can give me my shit back." Juice made a move to grab the drugs from Tracy. Juice is harmless. She will be fine, Tracy thought. "Okay, but only for an hour. Bring her back in exactly one hour, and I will be upstairs in the apartment." "You know damn well you're not going to be back in no hour, so cut the bullshit. I'll bring her back when I get good and ready. Besides, I gave you some real sweet stuff, and it's going to blow your mind. Trust me." Tracy smiled because she knew Juice had some of the best product on the block. She could not wait to get a taste of his sweet candy. "Take good care of my baby." Tracy leaned down and spoke to Stephanie. "Baby, go with Mr. Juice to the park for a little while, and I'll bring you back some ice cream. Okay, sweetheart? What flavor do you want this time, vanilla or chocolate?" "I want vanilla with a lot of sprinkles." "You got it, baby. I'll be back soon. Make sure you are a good girl, and do what Mr. Juice says. Okay?" Stephanie slowly nodded her head, walked towards Juice, and took his hand. She turned back to look at her mother, but she had already run off to get high. Juice pulled down his fitted cap to conceal his eyes, put on his hood, then walked off with Stephanie and lust on his mind. Tracy had no idea she was handing her daughter over to a child rapist, nor did she have any idea it would be the last day she would see Stephanie. In fact, it would be the last day Tracy would take a breath. Juice had laced her cocaine with a substance that would cause her to overdose. He knew Tracy would die within minutes of the drug entering her system. He made sure the mixture was just right to get the job done. He was so confident Tracy would be dead within minutes that he was brazen enough to take Stephanie to the very same crack house Tracy routinely used to get high. While her mother lay in the next room dead and incapable of helping, Stephanie was brutally and repeatedly raped. Once again, he was off the hook, or so he thought. Nobody to talk. Nothing to tell. * * * Tracy was not always a drug-addicted, poor excuse for a human being. She did not start abusing drugs until after Stephanie was born. When Stephanie was first born, she did everything she could to provide for her baby girl. Tracy saved during the entire pregnancy so her baby girl would have everything she needed. Stephanie's father, Chris, was a little stunned when Tracy told him that she was pregnant. He wasn't ready for a baby, but promised to step up to the plate and handle his responsibility. That promise went in one ear and out the other, though. Less than three months after Stephanie was born, Chris was nowhere to be found. He didn't even show up for the birth of his own child. He never bought diapers or even a can of milk. The only thing he actually ever purchased for Stephanie was Millie, the doll she grew up to cherish. Tracy found herself struggling to provide for her baby on her own. Tracy's parents had passed, and she was never close with the rest of her family. Chris was estranged from his family, so nobody from his side accepted Stephanie either. Tracy only had a part-time job in a local department store. Unfortunately, she lost that job when Stephanie was nine months old. Within months, she found herself at the social services office applying for W.I.C. and food stamps. She eventually had to apply for Section 8 and welfare to keep a roof over their head and food in their stomachs. Her only income was the welfare check she received monthly, but the measly check was not enough to support her habit. The downward spiral started, and from that point on, she was never able to recover. Tracy started out trying cocaine to take the edge off. Then, before she knew it, she was chasing that first high, a high she would never be able to achieve again. She developed a fifty-dollar-a-day habit, so the money she had saved during her pregnancy was depleted. Once the money ran out, Tracy began to prostitute to feed her addiction. The constant neglect brought on by Tracy's drug addiction led to the horrible circumstances surrounding Stephanie's rape. Stephanie After being in the hospital for weeks, Stephanie was finally able to leave. Her physical scars had all but healed. However, the internal ones would last a lifetime. Social services tried unsuccessfully to place Stephanie with a family member, but nobody would take her. Her birth certificate listed the father as unknown, so they did not have many choices, especially with her mother deceased. Therefore, they had no other choice but to place Stephanie in foster care. Once Stephanie left the hospital, she was moved to Ohio. After reviewing her case, social services thought it best to place her in a new environment, especially since they did not catch or identify her rapist. It would also be hard to place Stephanie in the already overcrowded foster care system in Detroit. A wonderful family later adopted Stephanie. The Harrisons immediately fell in love with Stephanie when they first saw her. At age six, Stephanie was a little small for her age. She was barely three feet tall and only weighed thirty-eight pounds. She did not talk much and was very shy. She did not socialize well with the other children. She had very dark skin and big sad eyes. Her deep, haunting eyes were a true reflection of her broken spirit. When the staff introduced the Harrisons to Stephanie, she barely made eye contact. She held Millie in her hand and mainly stared at the floor. They could not imagine any child needing love more than this one. Once they heard her story, the Harrisons instantly decided Stephanie would come home with them. They were aware of some of the details of her brutal rape, but they had no idea how much mental damage existed. The psychologists, who thought she had blocked out the episode, were giving her counseling to see if she remembered anything. It appeared she had no recollection of the horrific event, but they were wrong. The day Stephanie's womb was killed was the day a rage was birthed in her that would seek revenge for her innocence stolen. On August 9, 2006, the Stephanie that everyone knew and loved died in spirit. She was reborn a new creature. The Harrisons Mr. and Mrs. Harrison were your typical middle-aged couple. Shelly was a thirty-four-year-old African American woman. She was slightly overweight, weighing 180 pounds at 5'5" tall. She had thick shoulder-length hair, but her hair was her best attribute. She was not attractive in the least bit. Peter, however, saw beyond her outer exterior and saw her inner beauty. Peter Harrison worked for Forever Homes Realty as a real estate agent. He made a good living and was able to give Shelly a comfortable life. When he and Shelly first met, she did not see him as her type at all. After all, she had never dated a white man. Peter was not exactly handsome, but he was not bad looking either. He stood 5'11" tall with a medium build. He tried to take care of his body and worked out when his schedule would allow it. Shelly was very standoffish in the beginning, but quickly warmed up to Peter. After a few dates, he was able to win her over and gain access to her heart. They married a year after they met in a small church ceremony and purchased a small home in Ohio. The Harrisons did not do much outside of work and church. Actually, they lived a pretty boring life. With each other, they had everything they needed, except a child. So, Stephanie was the answer to their prayers. They had tried for years to have children of their own, but Mrs. Harrison was unable to carry a child to full term. She had previously had two miscarriages and was unable to make it past the first trimester. They struggled for years with Shelly's inability to bear a child. Peter had mentioned adoption several times before, but Shelly would not hear of it. Shelly was devastated when she was informed that it was very unlikely she would ever carry a child to full term. Shelly was so distraught over the news of not being able to ever birth her own child that she gave up her part-time job at a local elementary school. She could not handle being around children at the time. She fell into a deep depression that took months for her to recover from. Besides Shelly's inability to have a child, she suffered from a serious case of diabetes. She had to take insulin everyday and watch her diet. She stayed on top of her health and tried to do everything her doctors instructed her to do. She even took her vitamins daily, and Shelly hated taking pills. Stephanie was a much-needed addition to their family. She brought life to a dull home. The Harrisons did all they could to make Stephanie feel at home and loved. She seemed to express an interest in animals, so they bought her a Pomeranian. They named the dog Sam and all seemed fine in the beginning. Shelly thought a dog would be good for Stephanie and give her something to bond with. She seemed way too attached to the doll that she dragged around. Shelly was hoping Stephanie would get along well with Sam and let Millie go. However, Stephanie secretly hated Sam because he always got all of the attention. Everybody thought he was so adorable, and Stephanie wished he would just disappear. Eventually, he did. Therapy, Attempt to Heal "Stephanie, please come in and take a seat. How are you doing today?" "I'm fine. Can we draw today?" "Not today. Today, I want us to play a game with these dolls." Stephanie looked at the dolls and did not say anything. She didn't want to play with the dolls. She wanted to draw. She loved drawing. Stephanie usually drew pictures of herself and her mother, the mommy before the drugs. Sometimes she would draw pictures of Millie, too. Millie was her very best friend. "I don't want to play with the dolls. I want to draw." "Okay, I tell you what. If you play with the dolls for a little while, I will let you draw when we're done. Is it a deal?" (Continues...) Excerpted from Unstableby EVA TREMAINE Copyright © 2011 by Eva Tremaine. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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