Chapter 1 – The Beginning of My Life

This story is a recollection of my life, my perceptions, and the lessons I learned through persistent action.

Disclaimer: It is my intention to write this story in order to provide a background into my childhood and early life. My intention is not to slander those that are involved in this story, but to illustrate what my feelings were in the moment of certain situations in my story. None of the emotions and thought processes of the past are any indication of how I feel today.

Yours Truly, Heather Malloy
“Any woman who chooses to behave like a full human being should be warned that the armies of the status quo will treat her as a something of a dirty joke” ~Gloria Steinem


Klint Andrew was born to Debby and Bruce in March of 1972. Bruce and Debby were quite young, in fact, Debby was only 15 years old at the time of their marriage.

She had only just turned 16 when Klint was born.

Bruce and Debby were not married very long at all. Being young, Bruce loved going out and raising hell with his buddies leaving his young bride at home to take care of the newborn.

They divorced soon after.

Chapter One

I was born Heather Johnson, in Great Falls, Montana, on Halloween in 1975.

From here I am actually struggling with how to write this story. Do I follow my memories, or do I follow the timeline of events, which include both memory and events?

If I follow the timeline, then I will be going backward to writing a prologue to the story for some context.

I know that by the time you read this, you have most likely have already read the prologue, but this gives you an honest look into how my brain works.

My parents were Debby and Ben, married at the time of my birth. I was told a couple of stories of how they met, but they are conflicting stories so I just won’t write about them.

What I can say is that around the time of my birth, Ben was working on base for the Air Force in Montana, and Debby, I believe was a housewife / stay at home mom.

Shortly after I was born, I know that my brother, Klint came to live with us. Bruce, his father, met and remarried the woman he is still married to today. The issue was, Bruce’s new wife did not want to raise another woman’s son, and wanted nothing to do with my brother.

I do not know exactly how old I was when it happened or the reasons why but sometime before I was 2 years old, Debby ran away with my brother and I.

I have memories of living in a single wide mobile home somewhere in Montana, where there were fields, standing behind a white and brown farmhouse. I remember sitting in my high chair, wearing red coveralls. I was being potty trained at the time and had an accident. My brother was sitting on the floor, playing with his toys.

I only recently found out though that soon after this, and for reasons I can only assume were due to not wanting the responsibility, Debby chose to take Klint and I to Social Services in order to sign away her rights to the both of us.

A family was already set up to take both of us, when Debby was informed that in order for them to be able to take me, Ben would have to also sign away his rights. Debby knew that this would never happen.

Bruce had already signed away his rights to Klint, which gave Debby all rights to signing him away to his new family.

So it was sometime between March and October of 1998 that my brother was taken away from me to go live a new life. This was the first heartbreak.

As an adult now, I still do not know exactly what happened between Ben and Debby, that would make her so terrified of him taking any sort of custody of me, even knowing that she did not want the responsibility anymore of being such a young mother.

If you are to believe Ben’s words, he says it was only because she was a petty bitch. However, I have had the chance to get to know this man.

He has spent 4 consecutive years in prison, two separate times throughout his life because of molestation and lewdness with a minor. (It is an unfortunate fact that his ego blames others for his actions, and feels he should never have gone to prison to begin with, even though he was rightfully convicted, both times.)

The story of how I know this fact, will come at another time

  • Note: Some time between 1976 and 1980, the span of 4 years, my mother had been married two more times, to a Jeff and a Sam. Plus a series of short time and part time boyfriends (Victor, Craig, and Craig) Victor and Debby were lovers outside of their more steady relationships.

In 1978, after Social Services took Klint, Debby didn’t give up on trying to give me away, at least not right away. Her and Jeff, her husband in the moment, took me to this family in Montana, and begged them to take me in temporarily while they basically scammed their way into being able to send me to the same family that Klint went to.

From what I know, there was a 60 day grace period between letting the other biological parent know that he/she has the option of either signing away his/her rights or having the option to take full-custody. If they could prove that the other party was informed, and there was no response, then the courts would then allow the first parent to sign away custody, no questions asked.

I remember over-hearing the conversation, and I still remember the feeling of fear that came over me when I heard my mommy tell me that I was going to be staying with this family just for a little while, but when my stay was over, I would get to be with my big brother.

Well, silly little me, being a toddler of 2, almost 3, threw the biggest fit of my life. I was so scared that if my mommy walked out that door without me, I was never going to see her again. I threw such a fit, that the family refused to take me.

There are moments now, that I have as an adult where I kick myself in the mental shins. Why I don’t know, I was a baby. How could I have known that this fit was going to affect me so negatively in the years to come? It’s almost as if it was meant to happen, just like it did.

That night, Debby, Jeff and I drove to Iowa. They fought for a big chunk of the drive, while I tried to sleep in the back seat of my Debby’s red mustang.

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