Dear Dawn

by Aileen Wuornos

  Lets see . . . I’ve got for CNN 404-[___-____]

  Then for court T.V.. . . 212-[___-____] FAX 212-[___-____].

  * . . . Heres some others if your into it. Hard Copy 213-[___-____]

  Inside Edition – 212-[___-____]. NBC Dateline 212-[___-____].

  So let me know how ya fair. And thank you once again . . .

  Well. Let me go ahead an close here . . . Im back in the, Sattel again!. Ha Ha Ha. Love ya Buddy. See ya soon! Aileen,

  7-24-99

  Dear Dawn,

  . . . I-Love-biker lookin guys!.... If I was a guy I’d have super long hair and probably a handle bar mustache. Ha Ha. I just really get off on the, Biker look with any guy!. And every one I’ve ever met was cool!. Except for (a) real biker. There trash. Always into, criminal thoughts . . .

  Court T.V. got a letter by her. So Ill write her back and let her know I’d be more then happy to be interviewed. OK. Thanks a lot sis. Appreciate it very much . . .

  Well let me close. More to Come. OK. Until then. / Love Aileen,

  8-2-99

  Dear Dawn,

  Enclosed is B. 1-5. Excuse all my blacks and lineings on everything. Just me when explaining things. OK.

  Love

  Aileen

  Kid Days

  B/

  . . . And the house we lived in was built by him, couisins, and friends . . . While Mom prettied it up . . . With flower gardens . . .

  And talk about good lookin,172 who reminded me of Movie Stars royal !. . . . They tried there best to keep the Morals in the family and in tune to it too . . . So it wasn’t really all that bad. As things wouldn’t change until we’d reach our teens . . . Lord there went our Moral values . . . Be it the booze, cigs, or drugs . . .

  That’s when [Dad] begin to hit the bottle ever then before and my Mother unknowingly was getting sicker of a sickness I didn’t know she even had.

  . . . Mom would die from the tyroid condition and Dad would later committ suicide over it . . .

  My mother wound up dieing in one of the bedrooms of the house., as dad Would later bet the house away with a horse bet at Hazel Park Race Track . . . Then later I’d learn that he assisted Mom to her death. By getting what she requested for the first time ever, since she didn’t drink at all. And that was beer to increase her chances and as the story goes to ease the pains of, from this tyroid condition that gave her this cherosis of the Liver . . .

  [8-2-99]

  Kid Days

  B/

  . . . And my memory of my kid days can go way back. So far back I amaze myself! Such as, I can recall being held in a boys blanket with 3 Women standing around starin at me and playin with my hands and nose, all of which I didn’t like at all!. Chuckle. Chhhhccchhhh.

  Then I remember another scene being real little. I was in a crib where my diapers were on to tight and the safety pins were digging into my hips, with me wantin this taken care of royal – as I cried my heart out for them to come and rescue me from . . .

  And as I moved on into the growing pains of life, I’d come accrosst a hot interest that’d intrigue me so. All of which would be . . . Music. I fell in love! Dazzled in Rock an Roll . . . I was gonna be another Janis Joplin or Jimi Hindrix. You name it . . .

  Then I started getting musical equipment for Christmas. I was gearin up for a band!. I had acquired now Bongo’s (a) flute and (a) harmonica., but best of all., a Wind up guitar!. Yet low and behold, I could never master those fishin strings and the fancy art of playin it. So I’d wind it up instead / allowin it to strum itself / This land is your land / as I’d pretend I was hindrex while it was. Ha Ha.

  And School became my favorite thing to attend. But when 3rd grade would come along, this would take a turn for the worse, screwing up my joy of going.

  . . . I was (9) and Lori was (11) at the time her and I decided to play with some flammable liquid in an empty duck shed we had along side our house. The whole shed lit up quick being so full of hay and rotted wood. As Lori received a slight burn on her thigh, and I my face.

  1st and 2nd degree burns they were. Some 3rd around the forehead. Luckily it was basically lighter fluid and not gasoline (or) I’d of been without one. a face that is., for sure.

  I was wrapped up like the invisible man for at least 3 days in the Hospital. Then for a time at home. After about 3 months it seemed, careing for the burns, I’d wind up with scars on my forehead, only. Thank God!. And I always have.

  Yet this didn’t heed any warning signals to be / More Careful . . . So once I hit jr. High, there went my good ol’ morals Mom and Dad was trying to bring me up in.

  . . . I began to also become one hell of a run away. Skippin out the house at least every 3 months once the age of 13 would arrive . . .

  So my rebellious butt kept sayin. “Freedom!.” As off I’d go . . . As further troubles came my way . . . Only to cause then One Word to be so hated by me so much so that it would be enough to kill.

  My first run in with would be at parties I was considered a stranger to. Out in Pontiac and Detroit. Where as I’d find myself tied to a bed (spread eagle) / (that is once I awoke) and gang raped. As I’d run into at least 3 of these brutal attacks at 13. Animals.

  Then sadly I was runnin into this with those I knew at parties ...

  And then the last to come which hindered anymore for a while anyway would be from a ride, as I’d hitchhike home from clawson after sneaking out to party at, some 8 miles away. And this one would get me pregnant. At 14. Low Life Scum Ball

  Then trying to hide it for six months which was only getting harder to do. / Talk about then adding insult to injury!. I was sent to an unwed home in Detroit. Only to then have to put him up for adoption once born. / as I named him Keith Arnold Wuornos.

  But once at home, I was back on the run. Only to learn . . . Mom dies.

  I was crushed . . . Had I of only known, I know I would of tried to “then” straighten things out between Dad an I . . . I became crushed to the max . . . I hitchhiked to her funneral and then a short time later would be picked up for the first time as a run away.

  . . . I was sent to Pontiacs juvenile facility . . . then sentenced to 6 months in a girls reformatory . . . I’d stare Dad dead in the eyes and tell the man I hated his guts. As he’d stare back and tell me he’d never want to see me again.

  And It’d be nearly the last too!. With thee exception of a few more run in’s now an then before he commits suicide over everything!. Especially the loss of his beloved wife.

  Then the place I was sent to. Man. Was it a trip ...

  Enter Adrian

  Then put in after it

  16.

  Love Aileen

  8-6-99

  Dear Dawn,

  . . . Say . . . by the way Dawn. I never washed my hair in the toilet. Chuckle Chuckle. I meant I was letting the water risening my hair fall into the toilet from the tap water in a cup too. OK. Man! You sure can, at times!. get things wrong.

  Yes I did write the Court T.V. gal . . . I gave her the green light for one. As for CCR!. Yesterday on the phone I told them to just get my appeals exhausted so a warrant can be signed. That’s really all I care about . . .

  Well before I close. I’m glad to hear all is going good up there . . . Your loved Buddy. Take good care of yourself . . .

  Until Next time,

  Eat your Pork

  and Beans!.

  Chhhhccch.

  Love

  Aileen,

  [8-11-99]

  C/

  15-16173

  Adrian.

  As horrific as it was, with me still at 15 and scarring me up pretty bad (Because of all that barbed Wire) seemed only a wee pack of a punch to all the massive amounts of blows I’d receive and be shocked with the rest of my life.

  I mean.... Rape. Gang raped. Getting pregnant. The unwed home. Adrian. Scarred by fire. Scarred by barbed wire. Man. What next!?.

  Well I was due for an overload . . . I’d become a Ward of the State, Until 18. Yet Dad, a
ll he’d say is go ask her, as he’d hand me the address of a place that was located in Pontiac. As off I was to find out.

  Spring had come an gone, and fall was coming in ... And the Winds were whippin up some Cold chills, while I hitchhiked in the brisk of it all. Searchin away for this place Dad gave me . . . and eventually finding the address, to be no other then located next to the juvenile facility. And in searching for her office, amongst the rows of many so conglomerated down the hall . . . I knocked, was Welcomed in – only to then be completely shocked to the 10th degree.

  I stood as pale as a ghost I’m sure., as I stared in at this Lady who had to of been in her early 30s/ and resembled the singer Carole King to a T.

  What knocked me back about five was the fact that the “Song” “Its too Late” was dedicated by me to my mom – Just moments AFTER I was told she died. And after I was “This Song” came on next, which seemed very appropriate “In title” . . . to be then dedicated to my beloved Mom so dearly missed by me now . . .

  I mean check it out!

  The day she died, I was told she did (at the pits which was unexspected with me. I had no idea she was ill.) only then (out at the pits with the radio on) Have This song come on as I’d then spiritually dedicate it to her (as soon as I’d hear it) To then hitchhike to her funneral, only to next be busted for runnin away. Then from there, to be sent to Adrian for 6 months. Get out!. Only to then find out I’m now a Ward of the state until 18. Next be given her address of this councelor to see until then. Hitchhike out to her address and see her, only to then step in her office and stare at a Women who resembles the singer of the song I dedicated to my mom, just months ago. Awesome!.

  So needless to say, I was blown away! . . . And then to top it off, I’d come to find out she even played a three legged grand and sung like her too. Besides smoked pot!.

  Well, need I tell ya, We hit it off real good . . .

  In the meantime I was trippin out with a whole new crowd. Thanks to some guy who’d pick me up hitchhiken turning me on to.

  The place was a Commune. Full of musicians, located just outside of Rochester Michigan. And they called their 80 acre’s of rolling hills and beautiful tree’s . . . , “Teiken Farm House”. . .

  Around 30 people lived there. Male and Female. And with all that musical stuff, I must say I was in 7th Heaven . . . And all my childhood dreams flashin before me, as I dreamed of being a rock star. Well let me just tell ya it was blesed. Wonderful moments shared.

  Yet not only was this, Awesome!. but I was likewise being introduced to some new drugs flowin around. Such as frog acid and Black gungi (Marijuana). And with these connections on the block, I started shareing the quality in high School and down town Woodward in my small time dealin ways on the side.

  And then it wouldn’t be long and sadly the, Farm House would be sold as everybody was packin up and movin out . . .

  And so there went the Commune . . .

  Yep!. All because of them I was now wearing, Love Beads.., and putting embroidery on my jeans. As well as sewing on “Slogan Patches” all over my Jackets.

  Such as ... Zig Zag. Peace signs. and Marijuana leafs. Just to name a few.

  And Hitchhiken!.

  Man. It was the thing to do!. Even songs were out groovin to the word. While I was turning quiet a pro. at it. Haveing started at 13.

  And once taiken split up and everyone went their separate ways, Delia174 / The mayors daughter/ began to fade out as well . . . Only for a new gal to come in and take her place in Hitchhiken and Partyin with. Her name was Dawn.

  She moved from Hazel Park to Troy about a year earlier and was just getting herself known around town and in school, when I bumped into her out at the pits. (An area of 3 man made lakes near our neighborhood / and in doing so would become an everlasting friendship. Which to this day is still going strong.

  (Personnel note) Thank you Dawn. Love and Loved ya like a sis.) Linda and Laura too.

  But for Delia and I’s hitchhiken, there was a bit of difference with Dawn. We didn’t hit, parties ... as Delia and I did.., but instead headed out to parks to cop drugs for personnel use or to sell. Or we’d head out to the mall or the race track “to pan handle” and then hitchhike back to the park to buy some more drugs . . .

  But best of them all was, The Hole and the Pool Hall located in Rochester Michigan, These 2 places were our favorites. And if you wanted to find us., normally you could there . . .

  Now “The Hole” was a bowling alley located underneath Rochester Movie theater. It was nick named this because of the few lanes it had. Which had like only four.

  And for a past time and a little quick cash alot of us kids would set up pins for 75 cents an hour. Because ½ the time their machines wouldn’t work to drop the pins back down. So they hired us to manually do the job as we’d in the meantime, get high and secretly sell drugs in the place, chuckle.

  As for the “Pool Hall” it was beside the theater. Another favorite of everybodies . . . I’d learn to shoot exceptionally good – the game. So dam good It’d later be used a tool to hussel with. Exspecially while on the run., when needing food or a room for the night. Makin 50 cent Bets or a dollar on the game, and rarely ever looseing.

  . . . The theater we hardly hit. There were to many other things to do!. But as a youngster I can still remember the prices for the few times we did see a flick there., with coverage, a quarter. And a box of popcorn only a dime. Nothing like the good ol’ days A!?. For Sure.

  To Be Continued

  Love Aileen

  [8-19-99]

  D/

  15-16

  As Dawn would become a wonderful friend, I’d come to find out her parents were cool, with two more kids in the family, Billy an Don.

  . . . And since Dawn, Ducky, Keith, Lori, and I were all of the same age . . . we all fit in well together as a group to goof around and party with. And that we did. Starting at the pits.

  These pits we hung out at consisted of three man-made lakes that were nestled deep in the middle of the woods of some 435 acres running alongside our neighborhood. Man talk about kick ass!. It was Helter Skelter . . .

  So us kids were left to the pits to run . . . Be it to car racin (or) dealin drugs . . .

  Yet as each party rolled away, winter rolled in to quell the rucous we reved up . . . Our family was falling apart.

  Mom was gone. And us kids left with broken hearts. While Dad was going off in a 90 degree turn for the worse, under his own crush and despair. Hitting not only one bottle of wine a day but 3 or 4. The man was turning himself a wreck! . . . Causeing then all of us to desire to run . . . With Keith going 1st Me. 2nd . . .

  Our hide outs!. Friends houses.

  Yet friends were’nt always avialable, nor could they always pull through for us on a place to stay. So if Lori couldn’t stay with friends, then she’d usually run back home. Dad and her didn’t have that much of a communicational gap. As she’d likewise continue in school . . .

  But for Keith and I. We were’nt as Lucky. Both of us wound up in the woods. Quit School. Only to then eventually hit the highways of America. Homeless . . .

  So it was a mess . . . Stuck out there in them woods . . .

  I still can’t understand the Hyperthermia jazz people claimed one’s to get if your left out in the cold to long. Cause I slept in the freezeing rain and snow and still didn’t get any of this!. Only to then have my butt up the next morning with me and a bar of soap, bathin away in the lake. Dutifully getting ready for school. Attending to cover up the run. While Dad kept to his word – he would’nt call the Cops. And this time Didn’t.

  So I was left with only school to worry about. As I’d gradually seek for better shelter in other places. / then the woods, such as abandoned cars . . .

  It was a nice day to thumb out and see her.175 Even though it was probably 30 degree’s out with snow all around. The sun was shinning makeing everything as pretty as a picture on a post card. Pondering away as I enjoyed the scenic cruise (in) eac
h car and thinking just what I was gonna tell her., as I hitchhiked out to her place. All of which looked like a Hippy’s pad. Full of oriental rugs. Curtain beads. And incense always burnin.

  Well let me tell ya I “was’nt” surprized that she didn’t care to the fact I ran. Nor of the idea about School. But what I was surprized about was her willingness to see me through it all. Be it so she could make sure I’d never go back to Juvenile (or) Adrian, again ...

  To Be Continued

  Love

  Aileen

  15-16

  E/

  8-24-99

  . . . she’d fix me up good with a shower, only to relax next with a bowl of pot, Music, and good home cookin. Boy could she cook to!. As our conversations stayed on home and school with problems and solutions. All of which only came to conclude . . . that the need was to leave Michigan.

  By leaveing Michigan, crossing the border would surely then eliminate “Ward of the State.” As it’s likewise eliminate my need to wait until 16 to quit school . . .

  Then Christmas came along for the usual commercialism with her and I both knowing I needed clothes. So she decided to charitably spread a bundle for me to receive a new look . . . for better rides . . .

  Man . . . I lost my beads, bandana’s, Jewelry, fringe jackets and slogan patches. You name it! All was over with. Even possession of drugs. And with shopping to up next then on the list was “Wait.” I’d have to wait the Holidays out. Just one more sacrifice I could’nt stand . . .

  January 2nd would be the date choosen to leave the Big Mitt behind. With Florida on my mind. Knowing the snow was getting to much for me to handle . . .

  I cruised over her house hitchhiken again . . .

  And once I arrived she kept askin if I was sure I felt up to splittin. As I reassured her that today was the day. There was no backin out now!. Not with just an abandoned car to call home, buried in snow . . . So we packed in the car and off we were . . .