I knew Jackson wasn't the man that everyone knew. Yeah, he played the part of a perfect father figure in the real world while other people were watching but behind our walls in our little house he was totally different, he was wickedly evil in so many ways.

The first few nights everything seemed to be alright I guess. Pizza won us over for sure and the very next day he took us grocery shopping letting us pick out everything that we wanted. When we got home he even helped clean up the house and put all the food away all nice and perfectly straight on the shelves and in the fridge.

I remember that afternoon; momma had walked in and was full of smiles. I hadn't seen that in a while so I assumed she must be happy. Which of course was a very good thing considering momma hadn't done that in so many years, well not since daddy left. That was the day she said he was moving in with us and that we should call him Uncle Jack.

"Kids, I'm sure you will be happy to know that Jack here is gonna take care of you, me, well us. He gonna be moving in with us and helping us out. Now I want ya'll to treat him like you would anyone else in the family." I had asked her why and she replied, "Because I said so dammit, you will call him Uncle Jack and do what he says. Now you listen and don't give any back talk you hear."

I did as momma wanted, but I just couldn't find it in me to call him Uncle Jack. And she was right, he did help out around the house and took care of us for the first few months. It was like he made sure he had momma all the way on his side before the Evil Jack came out. Momma was doing better at those first few months too. Yeah she still would drink and smoke but not as much. I thought everything was going to change but I sure was wrong.

It was like something just snapped over night and he was no better than her. Actually he was worse.

I was twelve when he officially moved in. Six months later when I thought I might be able to call him Uncle Jack, because I thought he was a part of our family, I was mistaken.

The first time he yelled at us, I was sitting doing my homework minding my own business. "I'm so freaking tired of cleaning this damn house while you damn mean ass kids lay around doing nothing. It's bout time someone put the fear of God into ya'll." He picked up the whole coffee table flipping it over, then grabbed momma's ashtray and slug it against the wall. "Clean this shit up now," he ordered.

I had nearly jumped out of my skin. Storm looked over at me and we both shrugged our shoulders. When he yelled again we both jumped up and started cleaning up the mess. He walked off and went back to the bedroom with momma. We could hear the arguing but wasn't able to understand what was being said between the two of them.

A few days after that it was worse. He was mad, because he had made it home before we actually did off the school bus. At that time Dawn was the only one at home during the day with mom. The house was destroyed. Now I don't know if Dawn did it or mom or hell Jackson could have made the mess, all I know is that when we walked in he was already yelling. I looked around and the house looked like a tornado had hit it. The coffee table was flipped over, there was paper and dishes and trash all over the place. Dawn was in the corner crying; maybe she was in time out or just scared. Momma nowhere in sight as usual.

He grabbed Storm by the shirt, "You see this?" He yelled right in his face, "Clean this shit up."

Storm looked over at me and I glanced at the mess and shrugged. Within that split second he pushed Storm to the floor and reached for my arm. Grasping it so hard that I knew it would leave a mark. "I said start cleaning this mess up and it better be spotless. No lying around, no playing, no eating, nothing until this place is tip top shape. I'm sick of looking at this place, your momma needs to teach you damn kids some discipline." He then shoved me backwards; I almost tripped over the crap in the floor.

Storm started picking up the table and then the tipped the couch back over into place. River helped pick up all the stuff that was scattered on the floor and I chipped in, straightening everything the way it was.

"I have homework to do you know." I said out loud, loud enough for him to hear.

"Homework." He smirked, "This is your homework. You will help clean this up just like your brothers and you ain't doing nothing and I mean nothing until its cleaned.

That night it took us over three hours to clean the living room, another two hours to clean the kitchen and by the time, it was time to go to bed. None of us ate that night and I did my homework by the window with the moonlight shining in. I think I may have gotten an hour or two of sleep. We had to wake up early to catch the bus. I slept all the way to the school and I believe even some in class.

When Jackson first moved in, he did help us some. Now he was just as bad as mom. When he got fired from his job and was home all day with her, he turned in to her. They were both drinking, smoking, doing who knows what kind of drugs. When we got home they were both usually passed out. I never asked where they got the money to buy what they had. But I do know food was scarce again. And when we got home each day we didn't dare wake them up but we did go ahead and cleaned up the mess that they had made during the day. Why because we didn't want to get hit. Yeah the verbal abuse was one thing, and we could handle the yelling and cussing but when he started hitting us that was different. The funny thing is not one teacher or kid from school said a word. I guess we covered it up so well. Because those were the days that we went to school with long sleeves and refused to dress out for P.E. Those were the days that I not only hated going home, but I hated going to school.

                                  ***

"So Star, how was it living with Jackson?"

"I hated him alright. Not at first, no, but the longer he was there the more I started to hate him."

"Why?"

"He was so mean to all of us."

"Can you explain?"

"He was always yelling at us for everything. Nothing was ever right."

"So he was always yelling and then he started hitting you." The lady Lawyer says. I know she was trying to get all the good juicy stuff out of me.

I think she just wants to know so that she can send me away, away for good. I just didn't know what to tell her. Do I tell her everything, or keep our secret.

"What if he was just being a father figure trying to discipline you all. Do you think he was doing that or do you think he was truly punishing for not doing what he had asked?"

"I don't know." I look down and then over to Mr. Dawson. He tries to reassure me with a nod of his head. "At first maybe he was, like if we made a mess he would just fuss at us like any parent. But then it was like he fussed at everything, even if the house was clean he was still fussing and sometimes made a mess just so that we would have to clean it. Honestly it really depended on if he was sober or not and most of the time he was just as wasted as momma.

"Is that why you hated him?"

"A little I guess; it's not like he was my father."

"You guess, Star did you hate him enough to kill him?"

"OBJECTION! Your Honor." Mr. Dawson says aloud, "She's a fifteen year old girl; what girl wouldn't have those kinds of feelings, that doesn't necessarily mean that one would kill someone."

The judge looks over at him and then back to me and back at the Lady Lawyer. "I have a feeling we are going to be here a long while, let's take a break and return tomorrow morning at ten a.m."