And so the hatred begins...

(Please read the beginning to understand the story, thanks.)

When we got home mum didn't know what to do with herself. She didn't know how to get help without sounding like a crazy person which in her case it was a 'crazy' syndrome, how do you explain it to someone that you 'phase' in and out of yourself, hitting and hurting yourself for no reason at all. And to make it worse how was she going to tell someone in BSL (British Sign Language) after all she was deaf. And those days it was hard to get an interpreter.

I was sad and worried for mum and I wanted to try and help her as much, but what could a 4 year do? I was concerned so I asked her what did she remember when she 'phased' out, she just told me that she just remembers my dad beating her. At this point I didn't know my dad used to abuse her - I was in shock. I questioned her more as my mum never told me anything about my dad. She didn't want to tell me any more but my anger erupted (I was young) and I begged her to tell me what had happen to her and dad.

She then told me everything...

She told me how he came home drunk every night, and just hit and beat her for no reason at all and how he burned cigarets in her skin, she stop before she started breaking down and started to cry in my tiny arms, I held her as tears also came streaming down my face, how can a person, no not a person - my dad do this to my sweet caring mum she didn't deserve it no one does. I held on but then suddenly got up to the our side cupboard and took out the picture albums, and the only pictures I had of my dad I started to tear him out, crying and hating him for what he did it all made sense now to me my mum was like this because of him, it was the start of a bitter hatered against my so called dad that would eventually nearly consume my entire existence.

Watch this space for the next Opuss