The true story of a very different and difficult childhood.
WARNING: This book is a true account of child abuse, and such contains passages that readers may find disturbing.
The author has written this harrowing autobiography book in order to help other victims see that they can come out the other side of abuse and salvage a normal life, and encourages silent victims to tell their stories to create more awareness and prevent the children of today and the future from fallen victims of abuse.
Excerpt:
When I was a Punching Bag
AGE: 3 to 4 years old
First physical violations, repeated sadistic punching in the stomach, unable to breathe and feelings of dying, panic, fear and uncertainty.
He started to calm a little as he pushed me into a lying down position. When I was in a lying position, I thought that he might leave the room and let me sleep. I thought that he was pushing me into bed to sleep, but I was wrong.
As I relaxed he sat on the side of the bed turned in towards me, he lifted my jumper up to the top of my chest.
As he did so I wondered 'What is he doing?' 'What's going to happen to me?', things felt very strange. The rage had totally gone from him and he got very relaxed with a small smile on his face.
I wondered what was going on as he went from all-out rage to being totally relaxed. He started to look me straight in the eyes.
He had a smile on his face, it confused me as to why he was not angry anymore and was smiling at me and holding my jumper up to my chest.
He did so for about five to seven seconds, which felt like a very long time as I was confused to what he was doing.
He then lifted his other hand and hit me in the stomach really quickly. Instantly I lost my breath and my body lifted up to a sitting position. I couldn’t breathe. I thought I was going to die. I didn’t know if I was going to get my breath back. I was sure I was going to die. His face was right in front of me, he was staring me right in the eyes. He had a pleasured look on his face. He was smiling and didn’t take his eyes off my face.
I kept thinking I was dying. After a few seconds my breath came back to my surprise as I thought I was going to die. When I could breathe again instantly my body fell into a lying position again. I thought 'It's over! I'm alive!' as I lay there thinking what's after happening to me.
Before I knew it, to my disbelief he lifted his hand and quickly punched me in the stomach again. And again I lost my breath and my body again came up into a sitting position. His face was in front of my face as he was slightly leaned over the bed, again staring me in the eyes with the same smile. I could see it clearly in his face that he was getting abnormal pleasure out of the turmoil he was putting me through.
For the second time I lay back down on the bed after I got my breath back.
I couldn’t believe what was happening. I was thinking all sorts, 'Is he going to do it again?' 'Will I get my breath back?' 'Am I going to die?' 'Will he stop?'
As those thoughts went through my mind very quickly, in the matter of a couple seconds, he then again repeated it, over and over as each time I still thought that I might not get my breath back and die.
Eventually he stopped. I don’t know how long it was going on. He picked up the poker from the floor and quietly left closing the door after him.
In the length of time he had spent in my room torturing me my mother had very quickly and quietly got my brothers to their rooms and into bed.
Just as he had left the room I could hear my mother screaming and crying from her bedroom. I couldn’t hear anything from my brother's room, they were so quiet, like they weren't in the house.
A very short time later my father had gone into his bedroom where my mother was still crying and screaming. He started to shout at her to shut up in abusive language. "Shut up you cunt!" he shouted at her really loud and very angrily.
She instantly stopped. The house was so silent.
I couldn’t hear anything from any of my family as I lay there afraid, they all must be, and thinking 'What is just after happening to me?'
'Why is this happening?' 'Why is our father doing this to us?'
I lay there not able to move. My head was in tremendous pain from the blows of the poker but I didn’t think much of that as I was in some kind of shock wondering 'What is this?' as I listened to the silence of everybody. There wasn’t a single noise in the house.
I lay there for some time with all the horrible thoughts, eventually falling asleep. I woke very early in the morning to the same thoughts and feelings. I wondered was everybody asleep or were they awake like me feeling sad and confused as to what had happened to us last night. I felt somewhat relieved that it was morning and that the horrible night was over, but I started to feel that there was something wrong with my mother. I started to panic a bit. I had been awake for about an hour or two but it felt like days as I eventually heard my father stepping out into the hallway from his bedroom. I didn’t hear him get dressed in his room. I got a bit nervous as he walked down the hallway towards my room, but he walked past my door into the kitchen and out the back door into the yard.
I felt relief that he had gone out of the house and had not come into my room, but then straight back into panic saying to myself, 'There is something wrong with my mother. There is something wrong with my mother!' I didn’t know what. I couldn’t hear anything from her room ...