Child abuse story from Alana was created August 4, 2007 and was originally posted to my child abuse stories page as story #167. Alana is from Beauna Park, California, USA.
PLEASE NOTE: This story has not been edited for grammar, spelling, punctuation, sentence structure or Internet-eze. Where necessary, I have edited for length and inappropriate or gratuitously graphic content.
The following child abuse story from Alana depicts: physical abuse, emotional abuse, child neglect
The effects on Alana: welts, near-starvation, a sense that she "deserved" the abuse she received at the hands of her mother
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Why did it happen to me? I would ask myself over and over again but would come up with only one answer. An answer that had been brainwashed into me without even knowing that it had been. I deserved it, that is the abuse. The abuse that became my life. This physical abuse scarred me, not only on the outer exterior of my skin but my memories of my childhood and my heart. The abuser was my drunken and reckless mother who only cared for herself. The victim, me. I still don't know why exactly why she has done the things that she has done to me, but I know that she wasn't right mentally, neither was her actions.
When it was 1969 I had just turned 2 years old. Both of my parents were going through a divorce which meant my mom ended up with full custody of me. The next couple of weeks after the custody hearings were final, I was living happily with my mom, until things started to go a little differently not for the good but for the worst. She started to drink numerous amounts of hardcore liquor and was bringing strange men home during the whole day. She would tell me that I was an embarrassment and a waste of space, so before when her male friends would come she would cut off my circulation in my hands by tying me to my bed posts. She would grab a chair and she would sit there, right in front of me which seemed like forever just talking bad about me, calling me names that at the time I did not understand and she would laugh. The door bell would ring and I know that she will be leaving me in my tears but before she went she would look at me. Then she looked down on the bottom of the dirty floor in my room, kneel down and pick up one of my plastic jump ropes. The next thing I know she flings it at me so hard I remember I was choking on my saliva as welts began to form everywhere on my body. She throws it down as if she has finished her deed then walked away gallantly as if she had done something that needed to be done. She closes the door to my screaming in agony pain as if I would soon stop but I didn't. I heard joys of laughter in the other room and I smelled the cooking of food.
A couple of hours later, she enters my room also known as her room of torture, with a tall, dark strange man. She tells him that I was being bad and they started to laugh at me while I'm there tied to my bed yelling at the top of my lungs “I'm sorry! She didn't care, shit neither did he they were already to drunk to realize my pain. He leaves my room not sure knowing what he was supposed to do next but my mom comes closer and had a covered plate with her. “Yes, I get to eat now.” I thought to myself not caring what it was because the last time she did feed me was 1 month prior to this besides the one can of dog food she would give to me to last once a week. She uncovers the plate as I soon realized it was the leftovers of the food the man and her had eaten earlier today. She smiles at me and in the back you hear the man shout from the other room “I'm ready for you. Get your ass in here! My mom quickly turns around and tell him to shut up. She turns back at me then says “open your mouth and eat it.” She comes closer and closer with what it looked like to be chicken bones. I close my mouth shut and then she turned outraged. She closed my nose knowing that sooner or later I would have to open my mouth and I did. She shoved it in my mouth and told me that I would have to eat it or she'll kill me. I started to chew. It was rough and course. It tasted as if it were raw. It started to cut me in my mouth meaning I had blood coming from out of my mouth. I tasted the blood. Swallowing it was the worst part for me. At two, you barely can chew let alone it whole chicken bones. I started to gag getting nauseous. In the end, I ate all 4 pieces that she had given me. During that whole time, I was crying wondering if someone would save me from this wretched bad nightmare that I was in. No one did.
Later on in my life my mom soon became bankrupt and needed money. She then realized I can be a part of her plan to get some. She called my dad and told him that he can have me but there was a catch. He would need to give her 3 grand for me. At the time my father never knew about the abuse that was going on in the house so he didn't agree to it at first. Until my mother told him that she can no longer take care of me and that she would then kill me. My father quickly took up the opportunity and then gave her the money.
Since then I no longer saw my mom in my life. Not that I care. When I lived with my dad my life changed. He loved me and I loved him. My dad told me that he couldn't put a price on his little girl and that he would have paid more if she asked. I then understood that I didn't need a mother and I never deserved any of the crazy torments that she put me through.
NOTE: Information pages on this site were based on material from the Canadian Red Cross RespectED Training Program. Written permission was obtained to use their copyrighted material on this site.
From Victim to Victory
How I got over the devastating effects of child abuse and moved on with my life