I was very behind by the time I turned three. I hadn't bathed in a year, so I was caked in dirt, blood, and my own wastage. Being as I spent most of the time in the cupboard I didn't have the basic of using a toilet so I turned myself into my own toilet. There wasn't room in the cupboard to do my buisness, they're wasn't really room for me. I was squshed up inside, even know I'm scared of closed and small places and have pains in my joints from the hours in there. Also I lost the knowlegde of communcation. I spent most of the alone, and soon forgot how to speak. Dean would sometimes sit outside the cupboard and talk to me whenever our father was alseep or out, but I never answered him. I use to tap on the cupboard door though while he was talking. I guessed I communcated in my own special way, Dean told me everything. I knew more about Dean then I knew about myself or anything else.
If anyone saw me, that would of been repulsed by the sight of me. I was a skinny child and had bald patches along my head. My bones were always being broken, I was never taken to a hospital though, the same happened if I got sick. It is a wonder how I didn't die living the way I was.
I use to look forward to when I was sexually abused, it didn't hurt as much as when I was being physcially abused. I such of been replused and upset but I didn't understand what on earth was going, all I knew was it only hurt if Dean pushed things into my anus. Looking back, it must of been disguesting for Dean to touch me or suck me given the state I was in.
When we were moving after a two weeks in a motel, I was kept in the truck because I was too dirty to be in a seat, I don't remember much but I remember being throw around in the truck and banging my head hard.
I was treated use then a slave, slaves are allowed to wash themselves.