In all honesty, I dont know how to deal with the fact that Donkey is a murderer. The information only crossed my path recently. As you may have read, my brother Angel was killed and the death was ruled cot death. It transpired the Piggy dropped him as a result of the beating he gave mum, and Donkey had dealt a blow to Angel. Donkey disappeared after the event, blaming mum for his death. Mum was arrested and taken to harbourne police station and then released pending a phsyciatric evaluation. They didnt diagnose her then but it later transpired years after that she was in fact schizophrenic and had been undiagnosed at the time of his death. Donkey was interviewed and so was mum, then released from the police station. Angels death was then ruled a cot death due to lack of evidence. So how do you deal with the information? My first reaction was just a feeling of sheer blind rage. I wanted to kill him with my bare hands. Then after it passed I thought what would my daughter do if I was in prison? I am no good to her there. And Donkey is not someone I am willing to go to prison for. All I can say is when he dies, I hope its painful. That is how I am coping through today.
What did I do with my life?
Well as the headline suggests, this is what I did. I put it behind me, I can not control what happened, but I can control what I do in the future. I went to college, got qualifications, met someone nice. the usual. More importantly, 7 years ago, I took the control away from my abuser and told him to fuck off. It was not easy to get to this point though. After self harming and attempting suicide, running away all the time, beating my self up over the past, and generally being miserable. Now Ihave a decent life with my wonderful daughter who makes life worth living, and my boyfriend of 7 years make it worth living and striving to carry on further still. I may not have a job, or be exceptionally talented but I am fortunate to have what I have. Were Donkey reading this I’m sure he will say that it was thanks to him I got this far. One of the worst things he said was that the doctors didn’t see the cord around my throat at birth and he removed it and saved my life, almost as id he wanted me to be grateful to him. I remember thinking why on earth would I be grateful to you? I pulled myself up, I made a decent life for myself and he can just rot in his hole, drinking and smoking weed until hes skint. I have nothing against smoking weed, but when you steal to fund that habbit and don’t get food or gas and elecric, then i have a problem. I now have a happy home, a family, a life, food on the table, nice things in my home and its all worth fighting for. Just remember when you feel down and the past abuse is getting you down, find something positive to strive for, such as a target to set yourself. you do it in the knowledge that you pulled yourself up to do so, you could plan to dress yourself nicely, put some make up on, make yourself feel worth it because you are worth it moe than you realise.
What if murder was just swept away?
What do you do when you saw murder as a child? You forget about it and push it to the backof your mind. Until one day it creeps forward peice by peice forcing you to remember scenes a bit at a time but all in the wrong order. I could swear I witnessed two murders as a child. One was of a man being stabbed in a ware house. The images I remember of that were of an average sized white house with an alley way next to it, its relevant but I dont know why yet. Followed by the murder of a man, he was stabbed, then I look again to see Piggy covered in blood and a body floating down the river at the back of this warehouse. I run away and hide in a tree. The rest is a blank. The second is in a garden of a family member, Im not sure whos garden it was. The grass was really tall and theres a yellow and red plastic car outside. Then out comes a man from the back door and grabs a big thick branch from the overgrown grass, then rams it in the stomach of another man. There was blood pouring from his mouth then he fell to the floor. He wasnt breathing and as before, the rest is all a blank. Ive spent a lot of time trying yo go over it step by step and each time some more information is revealed. But only a little. I suppose its better than nothing. Ive not told a soul about this until now. I suppose airing this thoughts and experiences are bringing out more memories I had hoped to move on from. But to move on one must first confront things before going past them. Now is a good a time as any to try.
The War zone
I have some fond memories of childhood but more bad ones than good. I hope to detail some of them here. When I mentioned in a previous blog of the violence within the household, it was more like a war zone. One such memory was of my mother, AKA Piggy, cowering in the bathroom after one of Donkeys beatings, he had thrown her to the floor, kicked her in the stomach and punched her in the nose. When I went to comfort her, she was in tears, had a bloody nose sat in the bathroom of the two bedroomed flat in Selly Oak. Shortly after I asked if she was ok, to then be dragged away from her to be beaten in my room. I called the police and they turned up to be sugar coated by Donkey and sent away. That was the start of another beating after they left the flat. Another such memory is Donkey locking me in my room after nearly breaking my leg. He had thrown me on to my bunk bed and repeatedly slapped the bottom of my leg, it left bruises that were so obvious when I went to school over the road from the flat. Yet even after all this violence, two children already removed, a history of abuse and neglect… Nothing was done. Mum was eventually diagnosed with munchowseins, where she would hurt her children for attention. this resulted in a near death for Bounce, and a number of hospital trips for me. I remember the constant vomiting in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. Looking back on it now I understand what was going on and for years Donkey had tryed to come up with excuses by saying things like he wasnt my real father and he had a shitty childhood as well. He also tryed to account for his actions by saying that his parents were abusive and did things to him. Since when is that reason to do the things he did! Its not reason at all and the fact he tried to justify himself to me just amplifys the fact he is a manipulative peice of shit.
The abandonment
What do you do when your own mother abandons you not once or twice but three times if not more? Piggy was in a hostel with me and my brother Bounce. I remember making forts from bed sheeets in the BnB and tipping the sofas up. Yet somehow she still managed to leave us behing at the hostel. I was also once left on the beach in Weston Super Mare on the beach. Its a little weird as I had those down as happy memeries and one fond memory of eating a 99 on the sands with my mum while she smiled. Then she just walked away. This kind of thing kept happening yet social services once again did nothing. We were always left in the flat on our own for long periods of time. We were even left at the hospital where my brother Bounce was in intensive care. Piggy had overdosed him on calpol and was rushed in with liver failure. one of the not so great memories I have when that happened is of a waiting area type place in the middle of the seperate cubicles which were separated by walls and doors, there were sofas and a blueish type paint on the wall. I was sitting on a grey rocking horse which looked like a dapple apploosa and had a long grey mane and brown leather bridle. I looked into the cubicle and saw people that looked like doctors standing aound Bounces bedside, whilst he was just laying there tangles in wires and tubes. Its not a nice memory but I cant get rid of it and I don’t think I ever will. How do you cope when all you can remember from what should be happy memories is upset and heartbreak?
The so named “Foster Carers”
As I previously mentioned the abusive foster carers. Since being taken into care with the promise of adoption, I bounced from place to place. Some foster carers were incredibly violent and abusive. One such foster carer had a daughter who lived several doors away. This was in Herne Bay, Kent. Simply because when I was round there I had spoken up because I was accussed of swearing which I didnt do. As a result I had my head stamped on and was kicked in the ribs. When I had told my social worker at the time I was dismissed and the carer said it was just messing about. How in the world does “just messing about” result in bruises, big black bruises and damaged ribs? I was locked in my room and often starved for saying the wrong thing. Had glasses of water thrown over me when I said I was thirsty. Was punched for wanting to go outside. To this day those carers have gotten away with it. As far as I am aware they still foster and I feel for any child who has the misfortune of staying with them. The authoritys like the police to this day are still unaware of the abuse commited by these people and social services have been complicit in covering it up and keeping “hush hush”. There were many torments and tortures in that hell hole. There was a care home in Birmingham that was equally as shocking. I was actually bitten by a member of staff and then kicked. Yet still they walked away scot free. Just a long list of a catalogue of cover ups.
Search for justice
What would be the best way to get justice? I cant help but feel wronged by everyone who’s job it was to protect children like me. The failure of West Midlands Police to even try to go to court to convict and lock away a prolific sex offender, with the response of basically “fuck you”. Simply because they couldnt be assed to do shit even though it was my wish to bring Donkey up on charges and get him locked away where he could do harm to no other child. It is my strong suspicion he is still doing the same today. You see, Donkey had a girlfriend from Poland. Lets call her Piper (again in the interest of anonimity) whom she had a child by Donkey. Something did not sit right between the three of them and in the flat where they lived together for a short while there were locks on the childs bedroom door. A sliding bolt remarkably similar to the one on my bedroom door as a child. When i broached the subject to Piper she instantly changed the subject. As far as im aware, Piper went back to Poland with her child and for their sake I hope she stays there. I did not tell the authoritys. I mean, really? What would they have done? absolutley nothing thats what. I feel wronged by Birmingham social sevices, and all the heartbreak and torture that may have been prevented from continuing had they done their job. I feel wronged by the foster carers who would do nothing but use me as a punching bag because they could not handle some of my boystous behaviour, which social services should have pressed charges against for assualting a minor. The marks and bruises should have been proof enough along with the fact I had told them of the abuse, that is for another blog at another time. I feel wronged, abandoned and let down by the very people who should have been there but instead chose to ignore a child in need. So what do I do now? Will justice ever come my way?
Its not all doom and gloom.
Even after everthing thats happened, I still somehow get on with life. i have a roof over my head, food in the cupboards, a fully supportive boyfriend, a beautiful child whom as I write this is trying to eat the curtains within her reach, and life for the moment is pretty tidy. I guess it is somewhat in my past where i hope one day thats where it will stay. But for all my might in trying, I still want justice against the monster known as Donkey. Its maddening how many times justice has slipped away, and with it, Donkey grows bolder and more narcasistic. I proved Donkey wrong, that I got on with my life. He thought that I would keep returning to him out of confusion and for more answers, how wrong was he. What Donkey failed to realise is all his lies and deciet would come crashing down. Now I see him clearly and through those webs he spun. Remember that the biggest “Fuck you and shove it” you can give your abuser is to live life to the full. Dont even give them the time of day. Your abuser will be annoyed and frustrated that they cant control you or get to you. It will be hard at first but eventually, it gets easier. Keep searching for your tunnel and the light will find you if your willing to move on.
The tale of life. The lost blog.
If your the sensitive type its not reccomended you read my blog. The best place to start is the begining. A story of my life. It may seem ordinary at first but you’ll soon get the picture.
So firstly where to start. I was a happy child to start with. Then dad walked into my memories. He is a child molester. Mum was always abused by him and took beating from him. Lets call him Donkey for anonimitys sake. And mum, lets call her Piggy. I remember her being beaten all the time, Donkey broke her nose, caused her to miscarry and abused her in every possible way. I have a sister, lets call her Sunshine. 4 brothers. We will get to their names later. One of those brothers, lets call him Angel. He is in the begining of this tale. And only the begining. Piggy couldnt get out of the cycle of abuse and to this day still cant. She took beatings and all manner of abuse from the monster called Donkey. From the specific memories that stuck where a few stuck out I will share. I was in my bunkbed in my room. The room with a bolt lock on the outside. Donkey came in and pulled out his genitals and demanded I touch them. I refused. He nearly broke my leg with the beating i got. So I had no choice but to do it. And this continued every night. And when I spoke out I was locked in a cupboard for a few days and given scraps to eat. When Piggy stood up to him she bore the brunt of his rage. Then he would take me to the bathroom and lie me on the floor and fiddle with my vagina. Once again speaking up earned a beating and a stint in the cupboard. The sad part is social services knew about all this and did nothing. Sunshine and one of my brothers Mr Sunshine (we share the same mother but not father) were already taken away from her to live with there dad, lets call him Apple. Donkey was abusing Sunshine and eventually it would get on top of her and couldnt cope. I walked in on Donkey who was stark naked with Sunshine on the bed wearing nothing and he was messing with her as well. One day Donkey gave Piggy such a beating whilst she had Angel in her arms, and Angel caught the brunt of it and it resulted in his death but as evidence was short, it was ruled cot death on those grounds. Piggy went undiagnosed as schizophrenic in an assessment centre afterwards and since she would not give him up the case was dropped and he walked away free. My other brothers Bouncy who was taken into care along with me after Angels death as well as Happy when he was born and was taken straight into care. I also suspect that although family members stepped up for our care, social services stole Bouncy and Happy as well as myself and put is with foster placements. At the time Piggy wasnt diagnised schizophrenic so couldnt act on those grounds. And information I have recently recieved would suggest social workers misled family members saying i was to be adopted. Which didnt happen and instead I bounced from home to home. When Bounce was placed we were seperated, he was adopted but the adoptive parents didnt want a girl and refused to take us both. When Happy was born they took him in and adopted him with Bounce. Even though police where told, they did nothing. The abuse continued whilst I was in care. It happened in the contact centres that Donkey used to attend. The manipulation, the things he whispered in my ears when the social worker wasnt looking like “I want you”. , the inapropriate touching and erections when I sat on his lap. I saw Piggy in contact centres as well.
So thats the start of a load of just really rubbish things.
I was 15 at this point in my tale. When I was in different care homes he was permitted to see me. Even then he was manipulative. Whispering the same things. I ran away to see Piggy and Donkey came back. I felt scared as soon as he walked through the door because i knew what was next once that door was shut. He took me upstairs and told me to take my clothes off. So I did in the hope it wouldnt be so bad this time. I was wrong. He got behind me with an erection and procceeded to have sex with me. He put his finger up the front of my vagina and his hands on my breasts. I tried to move his hand but he stuck it there and I couldnt move him off. And the whole time he was saying “i want you scaley” “ive wanted you so bad you bad girl” “come to me scaley” always Donkey used to say it in short 4 sentence verses. Then he procceded to say “you want your dad insode you, you bad girl” and it couldnt be further from the truth. This continued but I found myself going back to see Piggy and it would happen again.
For now this is all im wanting to share. I will continue but a bit at a time. I want people to know that even though shit happens, its possible to still lead a good life.
thelosttruths 