My Life In A Toilet

by Maxi

The following is based on a true story:

A vile, horrid stench began to fill her nostrils…

The 14-year-old rubbed her eyes; what is that smell?  She tried to turn over but it was hard, her body was sore and achy. How long had she been sleeping on the floor with nothing between her and the tile but a worn-out blanket?

Pushing herself into a sitting position, the memories flooded her mind … fast, furious and unbelievable. She was in the toilet, she lived there. There was no running water, she hadn’t eaten in days, and that disgusting smell came from a bucket full of excrement—hers. The brown-haired girl covered her mouth, trying to hold back the vomit.

After a few moments, she heaved a sigh and pulled up her legs . The teenager dropped her head against her knees; she was tired, hungry and scared. More than anything else, she was mad. Her father had accused her of “stealing” food from the kitchen and cheating on a home-school test.

Her punishment was to be locked in a toilet with no running water, forced to use a bucket to go to the bathroom, fed crackers or a can of food every couple of days and to be beaten with metal rods or a belt. Oh yes, the blanket, how kind.

The young girl couldn’t take it anymore, there had to be a way out. Her brown eyes studied the small room until a plan began to form. Yeeees! She stood shakily, grabbed the bucket, dumped the crap into the toilet and turned it over. She wasn’t exactly short at 5’4″ and standing on the bucket, managed to push a ceiling tile aside and climb into the attic.

It was dark, so she had to feel her way to the stairs leading down to the garage. With a pounding heart, she snatched her bike and pushed the button to raise the garage door. Sweat dripped into her eyes and her legs cramped from being in a curled position for so long. Still, she took off as if she had been shot from a 57 magnum.

She soon met a caring couple who gave her $50. The desert-thirsty rider biked for about 13 miles to a strip mall and bought water, food, clothes and a backpack.

Then … she made her way to a coffee shop in Scottsdale, Arizona and asked a server to call the police.

May Your Glass Always Be Half Full


Why has Marci lost her memory?

About Maxi

Hi … I'm Maxi, a retiree with an addiction. I have quit: raising kids, cleaning house, cooking, doing laundry—there is no end the list—everything is done on "have to." The addiction? Writing to my last breath. blessings ~ maxi
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