A Travel Through Time

Drowse

London

2019

Remembering is not the thing I love doing for sure... At least, when memories where there isn't Brian come to my mind I'm not happy of course. It is easy: my father made my life hell, and It was just his fault if my behaviour became weird with time... All my memories are marked by the cruelty towards me and my mum.

So, I grew up in a quite big house; we were well off, but money couldn't replace a father's love. Every single word, every single touch, everything my father had done to me in those horrible years changed me dramatically. There was a thing I'm sure he loved doing to me. His belt against my back... I still have big marks today, and I think they won't never disappear, as my horrible memories of him...

Well, between the age of 4 and 7 I used to be a joyful and brave child, but then I started becoming something really different from what I was... Since I was so joyful and sometimes, hyperactive, my father thought the best way to calm me down was beating me and screaming at me horrendous words. He used to lock me in my own room sometimes... One day, just because I broke accidentally a plate, he locked in my room for two days until I apologised to him. I was only six at the time. My mother in all of this, didn't have the nerve to save me but neither herself.

So, for me and her, Things got worse. At the age of 11 I became shy and everything scared me. I couldn't talk to anyone and my grades dropped drastically. I wasn't a good student and, of course, neither a good son, as my father used to repeat me. I wasn't good at anything to him: now I was too silent and I still couldn't do things as he wanted me to do them. We didn't live in London at the time, but in a little city not too far from it. I may say that the thing I hated the most was that everyone knew what happened to me and my mother, but everyone was like:

"It is none of my business"

Bullshit!

If they'd have told maybe to the police, or to social services or whatever, I would have never been in such a situation!

At some point, I think I was 13, we moved to London. Months before we moved, my father was often abroad, and in that period, my life was perfect. I felt happy because I hadn't that horrendous father screaming, yelling and beating me for everything. I enjoyed my time without him; I also managed to make some friends! But, as usual, good things turns out not to be the best ones. When my father came back, I found out he had changed for worse... He was more cruel, and his words became even more sharp.

Then, as I told before, we moved to London, and there I decided that no-one could ever decide of my life anymore. Something happened to me, my psyche had completely changed once we arrived to London. I wasn't shy anymore, but neither I could talk to my class mates. I didn't notice that I was becoming like my father. I used to vent my anger on my new mates and I fucked everything up.

What had I done to my mates at the time? Well, I became suspicious of everyone, and, every time someone looked at me in a way I didn't like, I used to beat them and fright them some ways. I got suspension a few times because I used to brake someone's else nose. But my father didn't care about having a monster as a child, rather than having a naughty son who can't take good marks at school, so, he beat me hard every time I got suspension. Yes, now I was the bad guy he used to talk about through those years.