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one.day.

I never saved them.

10 posts in this topic

Posted (edited)

I’ve struggled to speak out. I think if I am able to write some of what has happened, there could be hope that I will eventually say something aloud. I didn't finish it, I'm not in that place yet to be able to. I'm so very sorry that someone might read this but also very thankful at the same time. I've never seen everything in words. I tried to continue writing it at

"http://pandys.org/forums/index.php?showtopic=217330&st=0&p=1749849&fromsearch=1entry1749849"

I was raised by my great uncle until I was around 5 years old; it was only then that I moved in with my mother. I lived with my sister who is three years younger than me and my father. My dad liked to drink. He still likes to drink. With drink came anger, venomous rage. He would use the belt on me if I was ever ‘naughty’ or wipe his ‘whiskers’ over my face. Mum would turn a blind eye. He rarely remained sober but somehow held onto a job. On the occasional time he was sober, he would be the perfect father but soon the shakes would happen and he would get angry again. Once, he was so drunk, he did not notice my sister had stopped breathing and was still playing with her. My sister’s oxygen tank had cut out. His eyes would roll to the back of his head and I would look after him if mum had a sad day, which was often. Then, one day he left.

My sister, J, and I moved in to live with my mother’s new partner, K. K had twins, a boy – C and a girl – N, a little bit older than me. My sister slept in the same room as my mum and K. I topped and tailed with N. Every night she would shake or cry silent tears. I didn’t know why and would hug her. What upsets me the most is how much I loved K. He was the father I never had and I adored him. We would always do something as a big family. We would walk on the beach or play with the goats. Everything was perfect. J’s health had got better. I had started my third new school and enjoyed it.

One day, I had come home with my new brother and sister to find my mum sobbing in the kitchen. Her face was a mess. Her hair was on the floor. I ran and hugged her. I was pushed away and shouted at. This was my fault. N had started to tremble or was it my imagination? K came through the door with a table leg. I can remember running and standing in front of mum. C took N out of the room by her hand. I was hit with the piece of wood and so was my mum. She had tried to stop him.

I felt so angry and sad that I never protected my mum. To me, this violence was normal. I felt cheated that I expected something better. Then to feel the guilt, that someone like me deserves nothing better. This time it was N, looking after me and how it stayed for years. From an outsider’s point of view, K , was the best man on earth. A respectable fisherman whose wife ran off, leaving him to raise his kids alone and a nine year old girl. The next morning, I woke up to find a note from my mum telling me she would come back for me. She never did.

I held on to hope that I would never be torn from my mother again. I held on for so long. N would help with my loneliness and would never let me be alone. I can’t tell you how strong our bond was. We started to know each other’s moves before we did them, which in the future became crucial. The violence in the house was worse. Each one of us beaten. C was often dragged outside and left in the yard until N would sneak him in. He would have strap marks up his back. If we couldn’t sneak C back inside me and N would hide in the coal bunker in the yard to be near him.

One of K’s favourite ways to punish me was to lock me in a room with only water for days. Once I was locked in the bathroom and I was really ill. Because I kept being sick, I was held under the bath tub full of water until I couldn’t breathe. Usually, N would get in trouble for trying to help me.

As I was sleeping, I noticed N wasn’t there. Soon she returned crying. I hugged her and noticed she was bleeding. I tried to help as best as an eleven year old could. Even though, she kept promising me K would never hurt me like that, I still thought she meant being hit. One night, he came into our room. N just shook but pretended to be asleep, subtly putting her fingers to her lip to signal for me to do the same. It was too late, K had N up by the neck. Hitting her and hitting her. I screamed to stop and C came running. He was dragged out and locked in a room. I remember crying. She was in so much pain but was fighting tears. I can remember just watching, not doing anything, not saving her, not helping, as he began to touch her in inappropriate places. I keep thinking if I had done something, everything now would be different. I could tell it was hurting her. I couldn’t get out of the room. I tried kicking him and biting him, just to be pushed away. Once he was finished, I remember him trying to hug me. He told me I had to sit on his knee and he told me I was the reason my mum had left. He began to do the same. His fingers travelling under my pjs, up and down my back, kissing my neck as he went under my knickers. He smelt of work. I just remember the things he kept saying and hearing C shouting. N had wet herself and was made to stand outside in just her underwear all night. We weren’t to tell.

C assumed we had been hit and we never corrected him. That became a daily occurrence, sometimes in the same room as each other or taken at any time of the day. All N would do is apologise to me. We were lucky when K had the chance to spend a long time out on the sea. We would be free. We might not have enough food or know how to properly wash our clothes but these were such happy times. We spent as much time as we could away from the house. Teachers had given up on us and asked no questions. We all slept either in our ‘den’ or together in the living room – it just felt safe. We would live in an imaginary world complete with a language. We would dream of ways to get rid of K.

When K was back, things would get worse, the violence , the abuse. I remember all three of us, kneeling with just our underwear on outside in the yard as it rains. The first person to twitch would have to hit, the person to the side with the belt. N had been so ill and could barely walk. Every time, her leg would collapse down. Me or C would be hit. She was shaking so much out of fear. Every time she faltered in doing it, she was hit. We would tell her it was okay. He would then go inside and drink. Yet he would still watch.

One day, K came into our room and dragged N away. Everything was silent. After a while, he returned N was nowhere to be seen. He took me into his room. She was tied around the ankles and her hands up. Material in her mouth. I can’t talk about this properly but I was raped in front of her. This too became a regular thing.

K became bored easily. Now if N and I were in his room, there was a video recorder set up. Everything was filmed. I used to feel like I was watching the recording, this wasn’t me, this wasn’t happening. First, it started with a camera. He then wanted me and N to touch each other, we would refuse. When we refused, we would not be fed or forced to watch. He had made some device that would shock us, if we made no noises. He desperately wanted sound effects. Tears are streaming now, I can’t talk about this part of my life yet. All I know is, I feel so dirty and ashamed. I hurt her and there are photographs that taunt every day now. They must be somewhere out there. I feel as bad as him. It was wrong and disgusting.

One day, K had gone to work on a long fishing trip. C decided we should watch a film. As us girls got ready, we came down to find C had punched the walls and trashed the house. We were scared. He was crying and crying. He had found a tape. He was so angry with what his father had done to his own sister and that we never said anything and it was happening while he was in the house. Once, he had calmed down, he told us to pack what we could carry. He wanted to go to the police but we refused. I just thought all of this was my fault and my mum would never want me. We took clothes, food and water. N of course needed her guitar and teddy. That was it, we never looked back at the house as we walked. I was fourteen.

We lived out for a while on the streets. We found shelter in doorways or near the prom of the beach. It was always us three. Together. We had no money and barely an education. C would beg for money, sometimes it would work. We had more luck, if we went out with the battered guitar singing. We would wash in public toilets and pinch things if we had to. It should never have been, but these were the best days. C had started to smoke drugs and was soon selling. He would always try to hide it from me and N.

Edited by one.day.

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Posted (edited)

one.day, I can't really find the right words to say how very sorry I am that you had to deal with this growing up. It crushes the spirit, I'm amazed that you're as put together as you are, that's a testament to your strength and fortitude. I know how difficult it is to watch someone else in pain, we'd rather it was us sometimes. You're very brave for putting this out there, you know it's not your shame or guilt as a burden but I know exactly how that feels. There's no way you cold have saved them, you were a victim and a child too....stay safe. metoyou.gif

jd x

Edited by jdam

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I am so so sorry for what you have been through. Your pain. Fear. Anguish. These words dont come close to describing what you must feel. Please be assued that you are safe and welcome in here. I have no more words. Take care .

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I'm nearly in tears. This is so sad. I'm so sorry you went through this. None of this was your fault. You were a child, who had to survive the horrors she lived with. Nothing you did caused any of this, and I doubt there was anything you could have done to make it stop. I'm glad you had the little happy moments in between. Please take gentle care of yourself, and know that you are so courageous to speak out. :metoyou:

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I hear so much guilt in this. I don't know what you think you could have done against someone bigger and stronger who had made it clear he had no problem with hurting people. You even said you tried kicking and biting him, and it did no good.

None of what happened was your fault. Not any part of it. Not even a little bit.

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one.day.

Please don't blame yourself for not being able to save them or yourself. You were a hurting child trying to survive with N and C and my heart just breaks for you. I am glad that you had each other and the happy times while K was away at sea, but I am so sad for the pain that you all have endured. I'm sorry that your mum left you and no one was there to rescue you. You are brave for staying together and leaving at the age of 14. Thank you for sharing your story. Talk as much as you need to. Take gentle care.

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Oh one.day. I am so utterly sorry. Nobody, but nobody deserves to be treated that way. Nobody, but nobody deserves that shockingly cruel, violent and abusive childhood.

I don't have the words to do justice to what you have been through but please know that I am thinking of the 3 of you so much right now.

Take the gentlest of care.

Milly

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I’m sorry I haven’t been back in a while, I tried to avoid coming back. For a fleeting moment, I felt really embarrassed for posting this but I am glad I did and I am so thankful for your replies. It’s really nice of you. I was just so glad to actually be able to write something.

I still am I think struggling with guilt, I know I shouldn’t and what you have replied really touched me, I haven’t really heard it before.

When he went away, it felt more safe. We could be young. Sounds silly but I think this is why I chose my course at university (environmental science), it was good to be out the house and enjoy what was around. Not sure if my guitar playing will ever improve, mind! lol.

You don’t have to say sorry, it’ll be okay one day. I think this and you have helped me to finish writing it. Then hopefully, I will be able to hand this to someone or feel some acceptance.

Thank you all so very much, it means the world to me that someone listened.

:metoyou:

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Posted (edited)

One day, have to or not, I am so sorry for the things that brought you here. But I am very glad you are able to tell your story now. Even more glad that you feel this is helping you.

I don't know if I should say this or not, for fear of making you feel bad about it, but let me assure you that it is nothing bad.

For about a month now, I'd had no dreams I could remember. That was unusual for me, and it was kind of freaking me out. I've been waking in the night, terrified as if I'd had a nightmare, but no nightmare. I was terrified of nothing, and couldn't get back to sleep.

The night after I read your story, I had a nightmare. In the dream, I was a child, running with a girl and a boy close to my age, and we running away from something terrible. And then we were bleeding, and I thought the boy was going to bleed to death, and I was so upset because I couldn't save him. Then I woke up, having that scared feeling I'm supposed to have after an ordinary, run-of-the-mill nightmare. It was not as bad as what I have been waking up with. In fact, within 5 minutes, I realized it was not as bad as most nightmares, because it wasn't even about my issues. I was dreaming about the feelings you expressed in your post. Within 20 minutes, I was able to go back to sleep, actually get restful sleep for a couple more hours, even having another dream, which wasn't a nightmare.

It seemed as if, by feeling your pain, I let go enough of my own to get one decent night's sleep. It was the best I'd slept in a month, and the next day (yesterday, I believe) was the most productive, least unhappy day I've had in a month.

So I have to say, very sincerely, thank you for sharing.

Edited by sheep_girl

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Thank you, sheepy. I want to show as a letter to someone – I think. I have it waiting but I’m still a bit too scared I think.

Oh gosh, I am sorry you had that dream of my feelings on top of your nightmare feelings but I am so touched that you think it might have helped for the next day. I hope the dream you had after was peaceful and filled with love. I am so happy you had a good day, you deserve one after your experiences and then tackling mine. Thank you ever so much.

:metoyou:

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