Child Abuse Story From Melissa W

by Melissa W
(England)

I was petrified of my family. My mother, brother and father were all guilty of abusing me. All of them committed emotional abuse with my mother adding neglect to the pile, my father adding sexual abuse and my brother adding physical abuse.

Every single one of them would treat me like I wasn't worth a thing. They would automatically blame things on me if anything went wrong. I was treated as if I was a baby who didn't know anything. Nothing I did was ever good enough for them. I did anything they wanted, I got straight A's even and that still wasn't enough. A little while after I turned fifteen I packed a bag and hid it. I put my phone in it and promised myself I would get help if it got too bad.

Whenever my brother got really angry, he threw stuff at me. One time it was a comb, another time it was a fist. He almost gave me a black eye once, yet I kept on staying. I didn't even know it was abuse until much later. Sometimes he would just play fight and then I would be petrified that he would actually do it. I can just be glad he never went into a full on beating, otherwise I am sure I would have died.

My father touched me. It always, always always happened when he came round. He did it in front of the other two and they did nothing. He would do it in front of them and nothing would happen. I went round to his once and when I woke up I didn't have any underwear on. I don't know what he did to me to this day. I'm petrified that I will find out that he raped me and that would end me.

My mother didn't care. On numerous occasions I had to put meals on to keep my brother and myself from starving. I tried only to do meals for myself but that would make things much, much, much worse for me in the end. My mother didn't care if we washed on Monday and didn't wash again until Friday. It was all down to me to make sure we were alright. Not my older brother, me. We didn't go to the dentist for four-six years if I remember rightly. I had to have a filing put in and a tooth removed because of it. I was just a kid, I didn't know that eating a lot of sweets was bad for you. I wasn't taught a thing, not how to iron, not how to wash dishes, nothing. I prayed for the good days, or usually good hours, when I wouldn't have to be afraid so much of those who should have loved me.

I prayed for help but it never came. I waited for the beating that I was sure would come. I always kept the phone in sight and always so to this day. I never once answered it, afraid that I would blurt out the secret. No one has been told until now. I plan on changing my mind and moving country. That way I won't have to be scared anymore.

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