| By Robert Pickerelli |
The father, his eyes glazed and dulled, his face drawn and taut, escaped from behind the wheel and ran for the trunk. The children wailed a new discordant requiem, as their tiny, sore eyes captured
To visit Vivian's room is to enter a village square. Friends from all walks of life seem to drift in and out of her room, and her telephone rings incessantly. Vivian smiles upon every visit and appreciates every phone call. |
The mother strained to call her husband through the anguish of the blows and kicks from the six men surrounding her twisted body. Suddenly, the plea was answered. One of the attackers was crushed from behind with a crowbar, as the father pounded the back of his neck, with a weak and distant holler.
Yet there were too many to confront, and soon even the father felt the sting of pain as his body was wrestled to the ground by an assault of fists and hard, dirty boots. Both children released all their horror and frustration through this final sight with a mighty and shivering cry, which broke the air with shrieking agony.
The attackers stopped. Not to the sound of police -- there were no sirens. Just the wailing of two pale children in the back seat of a car. Immediately, the band dispersed, content with their act of revenge. They had initiated the violence, but not the crime, for they had been hustled, cheated and lied to by the two motionless, bleeding bodies before them. It was the aftermath of a drug deal gone wrong.
This was truth. This was real. Yet, this was only a small part of a young girl's life. A life that accelerated way too fast. A life too ready for world. Here is a story about a young woman, who never got a chance to be a child. A girl who never had a true family to lean on, and a person who never found love in the distorted, intoxicated eyes of her mom and dad. Yet through it all, she never lost sight of the horizon, and what may lie beyond it.
Vivian, 20, attends Trenton State College, majors in biology, and earns a near-perfect grade point average. She lives with her aunt, uncle and brother on a farm in central New Jersey. There is nothing odd about her, except for perhaps her choice of dress and music, both of which reflect a carefree mood. However, Vivian holds a dark past. One which would likely change most people into chronic depressives.
"My parents were drug addicts," Vivian said calmly, as she laid on her bed in her dorm room, cuddling close to her sheets. Her room was well-lit and smelled sweetly of flowers, yet there was an obvious heavy air about the room -- almost oppressive.
"I use the past tense, because my father died and I'm currently trying to visit my mom, who recently just got out of jail."
Even before her birth, her parents, aged twelve and fifteen, were hooked on heroin and cocaine, selling and stealing in order to satisfy their noxious habit.
"My mother even continued taking drugs while she was pregnant with me and my brother." Vivian stopped for a moment, then chewed a piece of gum rather too quickly. "I'm okay, but my brother has learning disabilities. He's just making it through high school, but there's no way he's going to college."
"I always knew something was wrong, because I was scared all the time. I would see my mom preparing a hit on the kitchen table, and deep inside I knew it was so wrong. All I could do was hide and cry," she said.
Vivian witnessed a myriad of drug parties in the numerous homes she lived in throughout the Trenton area. She saw her parents skip from jail sentence to jail sentence continually. Her family was poor. There were no Christmases for them, much less any holidays or birthdays. The only source of income was stealing.
"I learned how to steal purses from doctors' offices," said Vivian, with a somewhat distant look. "Also, my brother and I were taught how to steal items from stores, then return them for a cash refund."
Vivian had no one to depend on except her brother, and she quickly learned the role of guardian of her entire family.
"Everything good or bad that's ever happened to me in my life was done by myself. No one helped me. No one above in heaven or below in hell did anything. No angels, no demons. I just believe in myself. I think that's the only true religion." |
Because of her past, Vivian constantly tried to save any friend who used drugs. "Everybody I met who took drugs I paid special attention to. I felt I had to redeem myself for my parents' faults."
Yet Vivian rarely succeeded in helping anyone. It was then that Vivian changed her entire outlook and attitude towards aiding people.
"I can't save the world myself," Vivian said as she shook her head with a serious expression. "Now I wait for people to come to me.
"I believe the only way to help people is for them to want to be like me in a way. I'm always happy and friendly with everyone I meet. I love life, because I've seen what happens when you run away from it. I want everyone to see what life does for me. Maybe then someone will envy that and come and see what makes me tick, I guess. That's how I help people -- by being happy."
To visit Vivian's room is to enter a village square. Friends from all walks of life seem to drift in and out of her room, and her telephone rings incessantly. Vivian smiles upon every visit and appreciates every phone call. "Friends are the most important people to me."
"Vivian just naturally clung to me," said Dan Zanburski, a freshman math major at Trenton State. "I hung out with her once, and instantly I became attached to her personality. She was nice to me from the first second I talked to her. She made college seem a lot more appealing to me."
Ann Vanchek, a sophomore biology major, has known Vivian for over ten years. She's convinced Vivian must be an angel. "I try so hard to be like her. She has the most powerful personality. It amazes me how happy she is after all she's been through."
It took only one conversation with Vivian to help turn around
"When I turned twenty, I wanted to be able to look back and know it's all gone and I had survived. I think I won." |
It seems impossible for someone to find good in life after experiencing so much hardship. Yet, Vivian has stopped herself from recreating the events that ruined her parents' lives. "I'm doing everything I can to go the opposite direction of my parents. I figure if I can do that, I'll never be like them."
The most obvious choice was to never experiment with drugs. Vivian concentrated on anything that could take her mind off her family and pull her away from her home. School and nature were the answers to her problems.
"They were kind of like my drugs," Vivian said smiling with an unexpected giggle. "Basically, school was the only way to escape that hellhole I lived in. I thought school would make my life better and it did. Homework was a blessing, `cause it kept my mind busy."
"Nature was another catharsis for me. I would see how the animals cared for their children, and I would feel so bad, because these animals had something that I didn't.
"I loved chasing animals around. I would catch them, like birds and rabbits and insects and stuff, and then I'd just look at them. They're so innocent and beautiful. Nature is so simple. It's what we should be doing. I think human beings are the most disgusting organisms. Look what we do to ourselves!"
Religion played no part in Vivian's growing up. She, in fact, shunned it. "My mother claimed she was a Born-again Christian, but all I saw her do was lie, steal and take drugs. What kind of message is that?
"Everything good or bad that's ever happened to me in my life was done by myself. No one helped me. No one above in heaven or below in hell did anything. No angels, no demons. I just believe in myself. I think that's the only true religion."
Finally, at the age of twelve, Vivian's aunt and uncle came to her and her brother's aid when both parents were incarcerated at the same time.
"I owe my life to them. My aunt and uncle love and care for me, and are now putting me through college. I can't thank them enough."
Long ago, Vivian made a promise. A pact, perhaps, or even a challenge. A date was set when a threshold would be crossed. Beyond it, a time to forget, a time to move on. Has that time ever come for her?
"When I turned twenty, I wanted to be able to look back and know it's all gone and I had survived," said Vivian, as she looked away for a moment and stopped all motion. The room was still and lifeless until she smiled. "I think I won."