The last article takes me to the age of twelve. I’m now starting to lack concentration in school and becoming a really angry child. I was in PE when I was told my foster sister had been to the school to find me. I managed to pass messages through this person who knew me from primary school. I began to meet my foster sister in the bus station and started missing form, just so I could spend half an hour with her before she had to go to work.
At this time my mum’s boyfriend caught me smoking and made me eat a cigarette. It was awful. I remember really struggling and he said: “And the cork”. After I ate it I was going to be sick and he laughed at me while I turned green. I felt so poorly afterwards. That night everyone had what they wanted from the chippy and although they got me what I liked, I felt so horrible that I just couldn’t eat. When my half brother got caught smoking, he never had to eat one. So again it was like I was constantly the target.
Then another night when got home from school I walked into the house and my mum’s boyfriend was shouting at my half-brother. It turned out that some money had been stolen. He stood us both next to the window, slapped us both and then did it again, but this time he hit us with a belt. I was crying and said: “It wasn’t me, but I will say it was. Just please, stop hitting us”. He replied: “I will continue until he owns up. I know it wasn’t you”. He then went upstairs and got a baseball bat and threatened us with that. Thankfully, there was a knock on the door and it was like none of it even happened.
I met my foster sister in the morning, as usual, and told her where the belt had hit me. I turned a bit and had a bruise on my left thigh. After this, I became really withdrawn and I was kicked out of class again regularly and was sat in the reception area, writing out of a book. The receptionist came and passed me a note saying ‘Your dad will be collecting you from school, don’t get on the bus’. My mind then was a bit of a mess. “My dad?”. I started getting excited, thinking “Yes, my foster dad is allowed to see me for five minutes!”. I was really happy, but then it dawned on me that it was probably my mum’s boyfriend and they’d put ‘dad’ on the note. So I started feeling down again, missing them more than usual, as I had that moment where I thought I would see them again. After the school bell rings, I went to the pub to be collected. As I got to the corner of the bus stop, before I cross the road I glanced over and there was the man who spoke to me at the park, with a little boy. I immediately felt scared, but thought I’d better go, as it will be linked to my mum’s boyfriend. I’d heard they were friends and I daren’t not do as I’m told, as he will just hit me. I went over, got in the car and within two minutes he said I were not to meet my foster sister ever again or he would give me what for. This man then continuously came to the house over the next few weeks and then I didn’t see him again for a while, until my 13th birthday.
This day I was taken to their house. He had a girlfriend. They bought me a coat and I was really happy that someone had gone out of their way to buy me a present. I started to get really close to this close family members girlfriend and the little boy. I started to go to their house instead of school. To clean up, iron and play on the computer.
The girlfriend had so much time for me, it made me feel really wanted and it reminded me of my foster family. They took me to America at 13 and when I got back, my mum’s boyfriend said: “You know what, you can go and live there, he will give you what for”. I didn’t want to live there, as I was scared of the close family member. I usually went to the house when only the girlfriend was in, as she had a lot of time for me and made me feel wanted, so I craved it more.
I was pulled out of school and looked after the young boy, did school runs and cleaned the house. I went to Army Cadets and played on the street, where I had a best friend and a boyfriend. I had to witness the young boy being physically hit when he was only 6 at the time and I remember one incident particularly. I went to the school to pick him up and he had been in trouble. When his dad came home, he had steel toe cap boots on and booted the young lad in the back garden. The poor kid fell over and cried. For crying, he got battered again and a couple of days later he was taken to the hospital and it was revealed his collarbone was snapped in half.
After seven months of basically being protected by the girlfriend, she had a hospital appointment and the man said: “I’ll be a cunt with you when she’s gone”. I went to clean the kitchen, thinking I’d stay out of the way. The next minute, he comes in and says: “Why shouldn’t you get a slap?” – I said: “I don’t know” and halfway through my sentence he slapped me right across my face. My first thought was don’t cry, because I watched the young boy get it multiple times if he cried. Then I went to sit down and a large, green glass ashtray was smashed off my kneecap, but still, I told myself don’t cry. He told me to get my washing as I went upstairs. I didn’t have any, so I went downstairs and he pinned me against the wall, using me as a punchbag.
The doorbell rung. My best mate had come to knock on for me and he let her in. I was keeled over and couldn’t move. Tears were streaming down my face, but I didn’t want to make a noise. He went upstairs, so I got my friend to hide my phone and as he left he said: “One thing out of place and I’m going to hit you with it all” – and with that, he left.
The friend rung my mum and her boyfriend came running up as a hero. But now I realise he said he’d send me there and there was my what for but… Why??
The girlfriend must of got back to the house as my phone started ringing, but I had to leave the house. I was taken to hospital and 2 of my ribs were broken and the police was called. The man lied to his parents, with whom I was really close, saying I had stolen money to prevent me from them wanting to see me… and it worked. The man’s dad has now passed away and I never got to say goodbye. That hurts, as we were really close. We even used to play golf, football and they used to make me feel I belonged and again someone else’s actions caused me upset, hurt and grief.
Why did no one stand up for me or step in this is hard for me everyday even now I struggle with confidence and thoughts of feeling worthless ! When I did tell others about things I was made out to be the trouble child to prevent others from believing what was truly going on. I would urge anyone to never sit silent, I have done that all my life up until now and it never helped me, it isolated me so much and at times made me feel helpless. No matter what just be true to you and stand up for yourself as if your like me that’s all I have known to do. No form of abuse is ok and no one is entitled to treat you in any way that hurts you emotionally, mentally or physically.
thelifeofstacedon.wordpress.com 