I've always seen myself in a scenario where I'm happy and I have a normal life but mummy's ill.
I don't recall how many times I've suffered on my own, no hospital was going to help me. See these were no accidental injuries nothing you could cover up as a fall or a fight with your brother, this was child abuse. Is still to this day. There's no point covering this up I'm here to tell my story.
I'm the target for my mothers brutal sadistic torture, I'm no longer a child. A child plays with there friends, makes a mess and bakes. I will never get my childhood back I can never pretend as if I'm normal and I've been deprived of my existence.
It all started when she started drinking I'm not sure what it was but it changed mummy, I tried talking to her and she snapped when I cried, she pulled me by the ear all the way to the "naughty room". When we entered she tied me to the rafter of the house and grabbed the healing stick. Tears are the work of the devil she would scream until eventually the hits would get so brutal that I'd just zone out as I choked on my on tears.
I woke up thirsty and hungry but still tied to the beams, I'd stay here for hours on end until my father returned home and she would bolt and untie me, I weren't allowed to tell father, it was our little secret. In other words if I told father I'd get a beating, I'd experienced it before, father and mother got into an argument and as father left for work the beatings started. Mother grabbed my weak frail arm and dragged me to the living room hitting me until blood dripped into my mouth she would boil penny's and drop them onto my skin and if I would cry the beating time would extend by hours.
I didn't understand what I had done so wrong I was only eight years old and even so I knew this kind of treatment was callous and wrong. I needed an escape.
