T W A W K I

The world as we know it

Hell in the middle of home

I had lots of childhood hells but one of the worst ones was between my bed & bedroom door. About 2/3 of the way to the door to be precise. This was the place where I would be glued in agony night after night when Dad was around. This was the place I was stuck with my stomach in my mouth, shaking uncontrollably, sobbing, as I could hear Mums screams whilst Dad bashed her. It was agony. Even to this day if I hear ads for domestic violence on the radio where there is screaming I have to change the channel, they are too painful to listen to.

I knew if I walked through my bedroom door into the hall Dad would see me & order me back to my room under threat of being hit. Bed offered no comfort & even with pillows & blankets I couldn’t block out Mums screams & cries for help as Dad yelled profanities at her & called her every foul name he could, whilst he hit her tiny 5 ft frame whilst she cowered from his blows pleading him to stop.

And so this point on the floor between my bed & my bedroom door was my hell, my excruciating limbo between not being able to block out my mothers agony & not being able to do anything to help her. It was soul destroying. The other kids I’m sure were the same. At times we would all come out of our rooms, one by one and huddled together in the hall, horrified, crying as he bashed her. Only to be ordered in threatening tones back into ours rooms.

At times we would cry at him, yelling ‘stop it’, ‘don’t hit her’ only again to be chased back into our rooms with his hand raised ready to hit as a backhander. He knew how to hit to make it hurt, and he knew how to do it so he wouldn’t break any bones. It was not till my mid twenties that I stopped ducking when anyone raised their hand, it took that long to retrain the reflex & and get over the fear and me ducking whenever a friend scratched their head had become quite embarrassing by that time.

As time went on dad was there less & less. When he was away there was a chance of happiness. When he was there it was simply constant terror.

Filed under: Governance

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