Childhood

My Mothers childhood was dysfunctional, hurtful and sometimes suicidal, and this is what I was told when I have a tantrum about not having something new, but when I hear the sadness in her voice, the distance in her eyes about her childhood, I told myself that I wasn’t allowed to complain. “ My childhood unlike yours, was horrible having your mother being beaten black and blue by your father because of doing the slightest thing out of line, hearing the yelling and shouting, those hurtful words that would tear your world right apart. This was my bed time story each night, listening and hoping that it would stop before it turned into an on going nightmare, but this was not so” My mother said with tears rolling down her face one by one, until they fell off her face and onto her dress leaving a tear mark stain , but that was nothing compared to the emotional scares, physical scares that her family had left behind on her. As my mum and I sat there on the lounge facing each other, I felt a sinking feeling that, my mum had given me the childhood that she had only wished for, I realised that I had no real reason to complain about something that I didn’t have because my mum had every single reason to complain, but when she did, she was to pay the consequences. “Night after night, I would hear the pain staking cry of my mum being hit, I would lay in my bed alone in a house full of noise with no one to talk too, other than the odd teddy bear who too also had a bit of a rough time. I went to school every day, i left very early in the hope i wouldn’t have to talk to mum and dad, i would make my own lunch and i would have a piece of toast on the way. My teachers would notice the scars and the bruises and ask me “ What have you done now' Fallen down the stairs'” I would generally burst out crying as they didn’t believe a word i said.. It was my word a young 12 year olds..against the mind of an adult in the 30’s. All the kids in my class ignored me, i was so isolated from everyone in the class room, it was me and my desk and no one else. I known as the odd one out, the blue and blue girl or even the loveless child. I walked home every day after school in hope everything would be normal, mum would ask me how my day was, and dad would do the same. But this never ever happened. It wasn’t till I was about 12 years old when I had the courage to stand up to my father, who had these dark dark eyes full of hidden rage, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. I walked up to him and said “ I don’t like what your doing to mum it’s effecting me and the way I feel and look at things in life, I don’t want to grow up like you, no one deserves to be treated like this, everyone has a right to say what they feel, but not to express it in the way you do.” I felt like I had grown up, but within that very second, i felt a mighty thump on the back of my head and what i had said, to save myself and my mum had well and truly backfired. I remember feeling the blood thumping in the back of my head, it hurt like you wouldn’t believe and I remember walking out the front door with a bag full of clothes and everything I thought I might need and boy did I run, i ran and i ran, i had no real destination in sight, but i had, had enough of being hurt every day, not just physically but emotionally. It wasn’t until I had was stopped by a couple in their mid 30’s, who had faces looking so kind and their eyes blue and full of worry, the lady said “ Sweetie, is everything okay, are you lost, we can help you” For the firs time in my life I have been called sweetie and actually cared for..and at the moment I had burst into tears, then all of a sudden the lady wrapped her arms around me holding me close, I blubbered through the tears, “ I hate mum and dad, they hit each other, they swear and I’m all alone, but surrounding by so many people, I have no where to go..please help me.” The young couple took me to their home where they sat me down gave me something to eat and both said “ Tell us from the very start” and that is what I did, I told them everything every detail and showed them my scar from when dad pushed me into the corner of the table, the bruises from being hit hard with the incredible force of a back hander. Before I knew it, I had them scared for my safety and that was the time when I was adopted into their family and these are the people who I call my real parents who gave me my teenage years full of love, support, guidance, this was the first time I had felt I feeling of belonging. Knowing I had someone I could completely trust, could come home from school and be welcomed with open arms. From the moment i started high school, i had friends, friends who i could trust, i was accepted as one of them, i was smart because all i ever did was read and do my school work in attempt to escape my parents, i taught myself a lot in primary school. I was in the top class in high school, i had achieved awards i never thought i would. My parents were so proud of me, and i felt safe and happy, for the first time in my life.” I take a look at my mum who had gone from a distanced face, to eyes as big as the moon and a smile so big. I told her that“ I’m sorry that i complain so much, i have had everything in my childhood, that you have only ever wished for.” Mum took one look at me, and held me close and whispered “ That everyone deserves a childhood, full of wonderful memory. Believe it or not we shared your child hood, i played every game with you, drew pictures, and most of all we spent time with each other. These are the memories a mother and daughter will share forever and it will live on forever in our thoughts”