Warning on this post!!!

Please do not read this post if you become offended by horror stories from child abuse victims!!!!!! I am making this very clear so you can stop reading right about now.....

I was trying to avoid this chapter for as long as possible, god knows it not easy for me writing it as for you reading it, but if I go in chronological order, this is what comes next and it contributes a lot to my time in the Drop-In House, which will be the next chapter.

Please be prepared to read this....

I was raped as a child. For me everything in this era seems to happen when I'm six. I flew to see dad when I was six, my brother was born on my sixth birthday, I was raped at the age of six. The only one I know for certain is that my brother was indeed born on my sixth birthday, the rest happened just before or just after.

The person who raped me was called Uncle Jono. His son came with him as often as not, whether he was older or younger I cant remember, all I know is that we were friends, and Uncle Jono was friends with my second dad. So they were round a lot.

He came to me in the kids room one night. All the kids were asleep, me and my friend Alice had been awake talking while the younger kids slept. We flattened ourselves to our beds when the door opened, we would get in trouble for being up so late. It wasnt the first time this had happened, I dont remember the very first time, but I remember knowing enough to realize that it was trouble when Uncle Jono pressed himself ontop of me on the bed.

I was too young to know what he was doing, so he must have tried it before right? I instinctively pretended to be asleep. I must have been pretty darn stiff being as terrified as I was. He had put his hand over my mouth as he layed on top of me but I kept still. He nussled my neck, kissing and rubbing himself on me but I didnt respond.

He tired of trying and getting nothing from me, and moved to the next bed, the bed Alice was in. I knew she was awake and as Uncle Jono moved from my bed to hers, I heard her let out a whimper of fear.

I held myself ridged, my eyes clenched tight, trying to block the sounds from the next bed out. No matter how hard I tried, I could hear his grunting, the squeaking of the bed springs and my friends whimpers. After what seemed like an eternity, he lifted himself off the bed and left the room quietly.

In the darkness it seemed like it had never happened. I thought that if it truly had, someone would have heard, someone would have known, I would have stopped it...

It did happen though and I will never forget it...

Little Brother

Like I said, I dont remember much.

Before I went to my fathers, mum and I had moved in with my second dad (which really, in my memories, makes him my first dad... This is where it begins to get confusing...). I'm thinking mum knew she was pregnant by the time I got back. My little brother, Tobias, was born ON my birthday, that was a great year for me.

Before that, I remember wanting a sibling. My friends at school all had brothers or sisters. I had three older male cousins and was the youngest child in my family. I wanted someone... And then Tobias came.

He stole my birthday, he cried a lot, and he took a lot of mums time. Yet at first I seem to remember I was more worried about him than mum. Maybe because he was her second child and she knew what to listen for or maybe because I didnt.

This is where my past starts to get dark. This time in my life was not a happy one, and yet I dont remember being sad either. This was around about the time I was abused, the house we lived in was not a savoury one, one I referred to as the Drop-In House, which I will explain later.

I looked after Tobias a lot. I looked after a lot of kids a lot, but Tobias and I were truly siblings. We still are, thank goodness. He is what I had prayed for, funnily enough. As much as I thought he was annoying in those first few years, he was exactly what I wanted. A brother.

After that...

I'm not sure exactly what came next. All I know is that I stayed with my mother until I was six. Whether the abuse came before or after doesnt matter, that is for a later post. I know I went on my first solo aeroplane trip when I was six years old. I remember my mother leaving me at the airport crying and yet I was excited.

Aparently I was smart child, mischevious with the looks of an angel. I had the palest blonde curls and the sweetest innocent little smile you'd ever seen. I know, even I look at the photos and wonder if that was actually me.

Sometimes I think I actually was the Devil Child my mother called me. I don't remember much from my childhood, which is why my blogging these snippets is so important. Even now the images and memories blur in my mind. I wonder at the details that were so clear once upon a time. Yet some are still crystal in my brain.

I digress.

My first trip to my dads state was exciting. I didnt sleep the whole flght, I just couldnt. Dad picked me up from the airport of course. I remember because I was flying underage alone, I had to wait until everyone else got off the plane before I could even undo my seatbelt.

I knew my father right away. Let me make one thing very clear, if my mother thought I could handle a secret, then I knew it. She didnt hide any truths from me, ever. As I grew, more secrets came out but it was always the full truth or nothing. I find no fault in my mothers timing or her bringing up of me, not matter what happened or what I say. She did her best and I damnwell salute her for that! God knows, I would have failed miserably.

Dad had a new girlfriend too, though this one I knew from my time living in the tiny town his family and I were born in. This woman had a daughter as well, she was a few years younger than me and for all intents and purposes. we shall call her Jessica.

I dont know how long I spent there, but I know that Jessica and I fought like cats and dogs. The house that they were now living in was the house my mother and I had lived in, so I felt I had some previous establishment in the house. Jessica had been living there with her mother for quite a while by that time too, so she had her own claim on it.

Thus, we fought. We had to be regularly seperated and yet I remember the doors of our rooms faced each other across the hall. So standing in our doorways we used to throw stuff and pull faces at each other. We were hard enough to deal with by ourselves, let alone together.

There are horror stories of me placing thumb tacks on Jessica's chair before she sat down, and I definately remember that, but I'm sure there was a major argument to do with a dollhouse that I had left there. Jessica came out ontop that argument.

But then again my memory is a bit skew if.

I went home after my alotted time.

First Memory

So where to start? This has always been a major problem with me, I have so much to say that it all gets jumbled and I forget where I'm at. I'll try with these blog entries.

I thought, where better to start than my very first memory? This may be troubling for some, I know remembering it is troubling for me.

I have no idea how old I was at the time; we had left my father so Iwas two and a half, maybe three years old. I remember me, mum and our alsation, Chainsaw, being packed up in the car and long drives so it may have been on our way from one side of the country to the other. It could have been some other drive.

The house in my minds eye reminds me of the place the movie, House. You know, the horror movie where the dead army comrade of the father comes and drags the kid back through the mirror to the swamps of 'Nam? It's probably just my childhood memories playing tricks on my actual memory, but what I remember next is as clear as day.

I was alone in the back room, which was my play room, when mums boyfriend burst into the room. He was yelling and mum was running behind him screaming. Then he threw something. I'm not sure what it was, I know it was mine and that I loved it. He might have picked up a chair from my favorite table n chair set and threw it at my blackboard. I just remember whatever it was broke and it upset me.

Mum yelled some more, Chainsaw came to the rescue and the next thing I knew, we were back in the car with all our belongings.

That was not the last time, either.