The book entirety deals with what took place in my life. I would like people who is going through hard times not to give up but to stay focus and fight in a physical and spiritual sense.

The Spell That Shattered My Life

By Kami

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2011 Kami
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4567-2855-7

Chapter One

Born and raised on a small island in South America, I, Kami Deon, was a normal child with good manners. I had a genuine love for my parents and siblings. As the eldest child of six, I was spoiled but in a good way. We were a close-knit family and still are. I had the two most beautiful parents who always looked out for their children. They made all efforts to do their utmost for us. The only grandparents I saw and knew were my two grandmothers; they were also the two most beautiful grandmothers anyone could have. My mother, the most wonderful mother of all mothers, never showed her true feelings. Most of the time, she could let you think that she did not care, but really, her heart would break when her children, or any loved ones for that matter, were going through some sort of problem. She would give her last penny to help someone. Since I was the eldest, my mother always looked to see what I needed; she would buy me everything a young teenager needed even though we had very little money. Yes, we were very poor but decent and simple people. When my father harvested the rice from the field or when my aunt or uncles would send money from America, Mother would buy me pretty dresses and everything else. I would look like a pretty rich girl, so others would not believe that we were poor, unless they took a look at our house, and then they would know who we were.

It was a very little house standing on six posts. You could sit under the house. It had a broken landing and steps, but the steps leading to the kitchen were okay. It had one bedroom and eight people living in it. The outside of the house was very old and was made from a type of inferior wood. Inside the house, the walls were painted with mud dug from a canal. Yes, we were poor, but my parents did their best to feed us and take care of us. My parents reared poultry, and whenever Mum cooked a fowl or duck, it would be a feast.

My father struggled to maintain his family. He was a farmer and also worked in a rice mill. There, he was the head engineer. Those who knew him have mentioned that he was the only one who could make their rice come out they way they wanted it, and they would commend him highly. And my mother, well, she was a stay-at-home mom, and she did take good care of us children. She made sure we had everything we wanted. This was especially true for me, the eldest. Growing up, I had a kind of sensitive skin; if something bit me, my skin would be all swollen with sores. It would leave marks, and my mother would buy all the body lotion she could, so I could rub it on my skin to help it look better, but it did not help much. Mum used to say, "When you are rusty, nothing can help."

One day, my dad came home with a little puppy. It was a German shepherd. I named him Rex. Rex was a beautiful dog. I loved that little dog. Whenever I would be eating, Rex would look at me and lick his lips. I would chew the bones and throw them at him, and he would catch them with his open mouth. When I got married, my father told my husband that I had to chew the bones for Rex and give them to him. My husband laughed and gave me the nickname Rex.

My dad was the most wonderful dad, but he had a problem. He made frequent visits to the neighborhood bar, where he would indulge in lots of booze. His friends were also a bad influence. Whenever he cultivated the rice and had it prepared to sell, my mother would always remind him that the children needed milk or tea or we needed food so he should come home before he spent the money, but Dad was always soft at heart. Just as soon as his friends saw him, they would call, "Gury, let's go and have a drink." If he said no, they would insist, and there went Dad and the money. Sometimes, he would get home around three o'clock the next morning after spending time at the nearby bar, and that would be it. Mother would be sitting and waiting. He would come home and call on my mother to open the door, and she would tell him to go to his friends. He would continue to knock at the door and wake all the children. Mother would tell me to go back to sleep and not to open the door. Now, this was my dad; in my eyes, he could do no wrong, so I would ignore Mother and open the door. Dad would laugh and talk to me while Mum would rant and rave. However, she was right, because we needed the money, but Dad would spend most of it. Well, as Mother would continue to quarrel with him, sometimes highly intoxicated, he would threaten that he would go and commit suicide. Now, that used to make me very worried. I would not go to sleep; I would stay up and make sure Dad went to sleep. I would beg Mother to stop quarrelling and wait until the next day to approach Dad. This went on most of my life until we moved abroad and Dad got a job for which he had to travel early in the morning and get home late. By the time he arrived home, he would be tired and would relax, so my parents lived better together and got along much better.

But while we were still home in our country, my parents made sure that all their children received a good education—especially me as the eldest. As a matter of fact, after I graduated junior high school and was about to go to high school, my mother took a trip to my grandmother's (her mother's) home, which was thirty miles away. Now, this was in 1970. She had heard that my uncle had come home for vacation. You see, my uncle used to teach at this big university in the capital city of our country. Before he got ready to go back to the university, Mother went to ask him if he could have me stay at Nana's and if he could support me to attend high school there, because that high school was known as one of the best. But I did not know that was what my mother was doing until she came back. And what I also did not know was that my uncle had refused to help me go to school there. He told my mother that he did not know if my nana would want me to stay at her place, but he had already agreed to let my cousin Momo stay at Nana's. At that time, education was not free. Tuition had to be paid every month, and Uncle was to pay for me, but Mother promised to help. My two aunts who were present when my mother was asking my uncle to help told him that I would not do well in school and that he was wasting time with me because I was a slow person. Now, these people did not know me, and I did not know them well. For them to make an assumption like that was not nice. They let me know about it later after I met them. But I guess it was just jealousy or something. My uncle had already agreed to take care of one of their children and pay her tuition. Two days after Mother came back, she said, "Get prepared. You will be taking a trip to your nana's home in Port Mourant. There, you will be going to school." Now, I was a very shy person, and when I did not know someone or had not seen someone for a long time, I did not know how to look at or talk to the person. I had not seen Nana or any of my mother's siblings for ages. I was not familiar to them, and vice versa. So imagine a young teenager, shy and all, traveling all by herself in a bus going to her nana's house and meeting a houseful of people to whom she was not accustomed. And just imagine a twelve-year-old girl who had never left home before and had always been with her family discovering that she would be leaving them and going far away to school and would rarely be able to see them. Imagine how horrified she would be. Well, I cried when Mother was not looking. I kept looking at my siblings. I said I would not be able...