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    cognac69
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

A Life - As It Was - 5. Chapter 5

This story is purely fictional, any similarity to any persons real or dead is purely coincidental and unintentional.
The story deals with physical and sexual child abuse, this content will be flagged, heed the warnings.

The story of Chris' life as a young boy. This chapter may prove to be difficult.

READER WARNING.
THIS CHAPTER DEALS WITH VIOLENT PHYSICAL AND SEXUAL CHILD ABUSE.
IF THIS OFFENDS OR UPSETS YOU HEED THE PARAGRAPH WARNING OR SKIP THIS CHAPTER.

A Life – As It Was Chapter 5.

As I'm trying to be honest with you about my life I think I should warn you, part of this chapter is about my nightmares and the abuse. You may prefer to not read that part. I've marked it so that you can skip it and where to pick things back up.

Chris.

*****

After that visit from Janet I was a lot happier. I still had those nagging doubts and thoughts that it would all come to an end, but yes I'm sure I was a happier kid.

The following weekend was when Maggie took us boys into town to buy our new school clothes. We got on the bus at the end of the road it was one of those old double decker buses with an open platform at the back, hard leather seats and it was quite drafty. It wasn't the first time I'd been on a bus, it was different because I didn't know where we were. I knew we were still in Birmingham, just not in Dixons Wood, so it was new and different to me. I can't remember if it was Carl or Maggie that told me we lived in Anson Green. I felt a bit lost peering out of the window as we passed through parts of Birmingham that I'd never seen before.

We got off in the city centre, it was crowded, I guess that a lot of people were buying new school uniforms. We went into many different shops buying new shirts, trousers, etc. We had to go to a specific school-wear shop to buy the school tie and the badges which needed to be sewn on our school blazers, that's where our excitement and our day ended.

We went in and everything was fine, while we were waiting in the queue for the assistant I was hit hard on back of the head without any warning, I screamed out and began to cry. What I'd been scared of was happening and I didn't know what I'd done wrong. I heard Maggie shouting at someone, she was arguing with a lady who I didn't see at first. I saw John and Mark, two of my older brothers, they were laughing at me, that's when I realised who Maggie was arguing with, my Mum!

I really freaked out then. I became that kid that we all hate to see when we go out, you know that one that creates a commotion throwing a tantrum. Except I wasn't, I was in genuine fear of what was going to happen next. I think the assistant had seen what was going on and called the police because while my Mum and Maggie were arguing they showed up. The sight of the uniforms scared me even more until I recognised them, they were the ones that took me to hospital.

I don't remember much about the rest of that trip into town, but I do remember us being taken home in the police car. Both of the Police Officers were really nice to us, when we got home they came in to make sure I had calmed down and that we were all ok and started fussing over me and Carl. They made it a good end to the day and even stayed to play a game or two with us.

It wasn't until sometime after that Maggie filled in the blanks for me. Maggie had seen one of my brothers punch me in the back of my head and spoke harshly to my Mum about it, she had stood and watched it happen without doing anything about it. My Mum instantly started shouting telling Maggie to get me away from 'her children', and telling Maggie that she should keep me away from Carl. She also threatened to beat me and throw me out of the shop into the street where I belonged. I found out that day, you don't mess with Maggie, she can be like a lioness defending her cubs and equally as vicious.

Needless to say it all got 'under my skin' and it must have shown as I became quiet and withdrawn. The bad nightmares really got worse after that, I was shouting and crying in my sleep and the bedwetting became frequent. It's not surprising really, but Maggie, Jack and Carl were always there for me, I don't know how they did it but they did.

When school started I didn't notice that the teacher always kept an eye on us. Mrs Anderson made sure that the more rowdy kids were kept away. The kids that were around us were pretty good kids and we both made a few friends which was good. It meant that we had others to play with during breaks and after school. I was still a bit withdrawn and quiet but started to come out of it.

I have good memories of Mrs Anderson, she was a short plump woman with tied back grey hair and glasses. She always wore dresses with flowery patterns and a cardigan with the sleeves pulled up and smelled as if she had just come out of the kitchen. Honestly, she always smelled of fresh baked cakes and biscuits, heaven to a little boy.

It was at that time I started to see the 'Special Doctor' every week, always on a Wednesday. He was tall with big feet his name was Alan, the first time I saw him I thought he was a giant, although he had friendly face I didn't like him at first. However, after a couple of visits I got to like him. It was during these visits that he discovered the reasons for my nightmares and bedwetting.

*****

[ You may want to skip this part ]

 

I still remember those nightmares, very clearly, I'd never talked to anyone about what had happened before. But Alan, the Child Psychologist coaxed the details out of me.

Some nightmares centred around me being beaten by my Mum and/or Dad. Being hit with a hand, a slipper, or a belt, even a cane from the garden and often being punched. I always heard those same words, 'You're a dirty fucking little bastard', 'You've never been fucking wanted', 'We never fucking wanted you, why wasn't you a girl', 'You're a useless fucking waste of space' and worst of all 'Why don't you just crawl away and fucking die'. Those real beatings left me badly marked, sometimes bleeding and the nightmares hurt just as much. I didn't know and still don't know, what's worse, the nightmares I had, the waking memories, or when I had to live through it.

The worst nightmares didn't have my Mum and Dad in them, it was my brothers, John and Mark. They always started out the same way, it didn't matter if it was John or Mark, the nightmare always followed the same pattern.

They dreams begin with me laying down in bed going to sleep. Sleep was good because then nothing happened. It was when they woke me up slipping into bed next to me. They made me get undressed, I never had much to take off, a pair of underpants and a vest. I wasn't given much choice, do what they wanted or get beaten. Usually they hit me anyway. I had to... no I can't go into detail, lets just say I was forced to suck on them, I couldn't stop crying when it happened, but that wasn't the worst part.

The worst part hurt, it was really painful, was when they forced me to have sex, I was raped. It really hurt. It felt like I was being ripped apart by a red hot poker, it was times like that I wished I was dead. It still hurt after they stopped, I could feel slimy stuff leaking out of me. I didn't know what it was then, I do now. Sometimes when I went to the toilet after there was bits of red in it, it was blood but I didn't know that at the time. It always left my bum hurting, burning and stinging. But they didn't care I was nothing to them, I was just there to be used.

Even though my brothers were bigger than me they were still only children themselves, they were still at school, the local Comprehensive School, I don't just mean my brothers were bigger as in physical stature, but they were going through or had gone through puberty. I didn't know about puberty at that young age, I just knew that they were bigger than me.

*****

[ Continue reading here ]

It came out in those sessions with Alan that maybe they really wanted a girl so they could even out the numbers, maybe I should have been Christine not Christopher. It may sound mad but I remember at one point during these sessions I wished that I was a girl, because then maybe I wouldn't have been hurt. I had three brothers, John, Mark and Thomas, and two sisters, Angela and Caroline. It was only John and Mark that did things to me and hurt me in bed, but none of them were nice to me. Always hitting me and getting me into trouble so that our Mum and Dad would hit me.

When I woke up from these nightmares I always found myself in a hug, most often from Carl who had most likely crept into bed next to me, sometimes from Jack and sometimes from Maggie. Those hugs were always there and never stopped even though I'd be drenched, smelling of piss from wetting the bed. Carl would often be wet through, because of me. But each time, every time, it always ended up with all of them hugging me, comforting me and calming me down from my crying hysterical outbursts.

You know something? I miss those hugs now.

I'm sure that every time another piece of what had happened to me came out it hurt Jack and Maggie just as much as it did me. But they never turned away from me or rejected me, they were always there, I never saw it then but, I do now.

One night after a nightmare about my brothers I saw Jack crying and I could feel him crying while he held me. I thought I'd let him down and thought he wouldn't like me anymore. I remember telling him that I was sorry, that I didn't want to do it but they made me and it hurt. And it did hurt, and crazy as it might sound it still hurt, every time I had that nightmare, I could feel the pain as if it had just happened.

This may sound crazy too but I pleaded with Jack that night, to still like me and begged him to make it stop hurting. As I understand it now, and it's the only way I can explain it, Jack wasn't just crying for me, he was crying with me, as if he was trying to take away my pain and my hurt.

He managed to convince me that I had nothing to be sorry for, that I couldn't stop them hurting me and I should never be sorry for what they did. He made me believe that he and Maggie and Carl loved me. But most important to the little boy that I was then, he swore to me that he would never let anyone hurt me like that again and promised me that he would always protect me.

That night, Carl's Dad... my Dad... became my hero. He proved to me that he loved me and I could trust him, that there are people I could believe in. To this day Jack, my Dad, is still my hero.

It's been a harrowing time for Chris' to relive his past experiences. I hope you stick with him now that he has taken the first step on his road to recovery.

As with many children who have been abused he will relive those times at other times in his life. Children who experience abuse never 'get over it'. Most learn how to cope and deal with it better, unfortunately some never do.

Many thanks to mikiesboy for his help and advice with editing that have improved the story telling.

Thank you to all of the readers who have reacted and commented so far, please keep them coming they help to inspire and encourage all authors.
Copyright © 2018 cognac69; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

A very sad chapter, but one that needed to be in the story. Having been told some of the backstory in this, my heart goes out to them. Thank you.

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A difficult chapter. And no, no matter how often you're told time will heal, or you're grown up now, forget it.  You can't forget it entirely. You can hide it but something will trigger a memory. Thanks for writing about a difficult subject.

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This was a very sad and difficult chapter! I’m always saddened by the abuses of children, it’s ashamed that parents and others who raise and care for children are often monsters. There are licenses and home visits for adoption of a pet, yet anyone who wants can raise a child. I’m certain that the story you’re telling is very difficult to write as well as emotionally taxing. Thank you for your honesty and pains in telling such a tragic and heartbreaking story. I’m looking forward to the next chapter! 😢❤️

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5 hours ago, BHopper2 said:

A very sad chapter, but one that needed to be in the story. Having been told some of the backstory in this, my heart goes out to them. Thank you.

 

5 hours ago, Mikiesboy said:

A difficult chapter. And no, no matter how often you're told time will heal, or you're grown up now, forget it.  You can't forget it entirely. You can hide it but something will trigger a memory. Thanks for writing about a difficult subject.

 

48 minutes ago, flesco said:

This was a very sad and difficult chapter! I’m always saddened by the abuses of children, it’s ashamed that parents and others who raise and care for children are often monsters. There are licenses and home visits for adoption of a pet, yet anyone who wants can raise a child. I’m certain that the story you’re telling is very difficult to write as well as emotionally taxing. Thank you for your honesty and pains in telling such a tragic and heartbreaking story. I’m looking forward to the next chapter! 😢❤️

 

Thank you this was a very difficult chapter to write, there are a great many drafts that got binned, trying to find the write words for this does not come easy. It brought back memories of working with children who had similar experiences.

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So many of the other readers have expressed my thoughts. Chris' story, althougth sad at times, is very well written. Thank you.

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