because I knew and still know now what I am capable of. She now realises this too because I have put my thoughts into action many times even though some have failed, I still keep trying. Her attitude and perspective has change toward me and now has a lot more faith in me, which reflects.
My Mum has been married three times and has had two long term shitty relationships: her first marriage being to my Father. They were high school sweethearts since the age of fifteen and married at the age of eighteen and nineteen. It was the usual type of marriage I suppose, with my father going to work and my mother staying home to maintain the household duties as a wife and mother did back in those days. However, things changed when I was around four when we had to move north so my father could work. Everything seemed fine at first: the normal family scene until my mother found out my father was having an affair with another woman. Even though we kids didn’t really understand, we knew something wasn’t right because our mum was always sad. The next thing we knew was we were leaving and going back to Perth but my father was not coming with us; he was staying with this woman. This was not an easy decision for my Mum because it meant, without him, she was virtually on her own with three kids to raise. They divorced nine years later.
She then had a relationship with a man named George, ( Lofty) a very tall handsome looking man I suppose. He and Mum had a child together which I will tell you about a bit further on. I don’t remember everything about this relationship but the things I do remember was, I did have a fair bit of time for this man in a lot of ways but not in others. I remember he would take us places and was a pretty generous man at times. He could be very funny too and made mum and us kids laugh but he also had this lunatic side and would mistreat her whenever he got drunk.
For instance, one night my Mum and George were visiting my Aunt and Uncle when all hell broke loose. They had all been drinking except for my uncle who didn’t drink when an argument began with George and my Aunt and because he was now drunk, he lost his temper and began to beat her. My uncle then intervened to try and stop him but he was no match for George so then he copped it too and he was also beaten to a pulp. They ended up okay physically but emotionally they were scarred for life.
Another incident occurred when I was around seven. I was outside with George while he was gardening and I was lying under the swing humming a tune, in a world of my own. Obviously this annoyed him because he told me to stop. I did for a minute or two but I loved to sing and without realizing it, I started again and he once again told me to stop and if I didn’t this time he was going to smack me. I did but another couple of minutes went by but because I was so bored watching him pick weeds, off I went again. I couldn’t help it, it just came naturally to me to sing or hum a tune but maybe I shouldn’t have been around him when I was doing this. He then stared at me like he wanted to kill me and said to me in a nasty voice, “I thought I told you to stop.” This time though, I said, “No, I don’t want to because I like to sing.” Wrong! This made him even more agitated and caused him to lose his temper with me. He then grabbed me and turned me on my stomach whilst holding me down and proceeded to belt my arse. I couldn’t do anything but yell and scream and when he let me up, all I could do was cry. He then felt bad and told me he was sorry but next time do as you’re told. I did after that!
After many more violent incidents, mum realised he was nothing but a mongrel and as she couldn't stand it any longer, she had no choice but to end this relationship.
Paul
The biggest bastard of them all!
After George, my mother then had a relationship with a man I will refer to as Paul. I want to give you an insight into this man as I know he had a great deal to do with my future feelings toward the male gender. Paul stood around 170 cm, with a solid build and was covered from head to toe in tattoos. He had blue eyes with quite a handsome face I suppose and blonde hair that sat just above his shoulders.
I was eleven at the time and my Mum was just thirty-three and Paul was eight years younger than her, which made him twenty-five. They met at a local hotel where my Mum and a group of friends and myself, frequently attended.
Their relationship started out like any other normal one, with Paul being a typical gentleman with whom you could always have some fun with. At first, my brother and sister and I thought he was really cool but it wasn’t until he moved into our home a few months later, things started to change for the worst.
It became unnerving for us at times because when he was in a good mood he would joke around and was so much fun to be with, but it would only take one little thing to trigger his violent behaviour. It was when our Mum started scoring black eyes and bruises we got really worried, but what could we do? We weren’t in a position to do anything and just had to accept it and live with it; we had no choice. Obviously this is what she wanted, to be beaten! But how could she and why did she put us through this? Did she not realise how it was affecting us by watching her getting beaten shit out of? We just didn’t or couldn’t understand why.
As time went by, I think all of us deep down realised she had no choice but to put up with his shit. This went on for a few more months until one day our prayers were finally answered and what a blessing it was! It couldn't have come sooner.
His stupidity finally got the better of him when he did one too many robberies and was sent to jail for two and a half years. What a relief this was for us kids and especially for our Mum. Even though we were silently overwhelmed with excitement to rid of the bastard, we still had to put on a false pretence by telling him how much he would be missed and how sorry we were that he had to go jail. Like not!
After he was sent away, our lives easily reverted back to the way things were before we met him. We were all so much calmer and happier and not on edge anymore and it felt great! The best thing of all was we didn't have to worry about some lunatic abusing our Mum anymore. We all thought this would eventually end their relationship and hoped and prayed that she could find someone better while he was in there. If she did, he couldn't do a damn thing about it but we were wrong.
While he was in there he would phone us and his suck up to you nice side would come out. It was almost as if we had forgotten about all the bad times he had put us through.
Boy he had us all fooled!
This went on for the entire time he was in there and funnily enough when we heard he was going to be released, we were all very excited to see him again because we actually thought things would be different this time around. We thought, “Maybe he had calmed down and would not be as aggressive as he was before.” Wrong! To our dismay and ignorance, things would revert to the way they were before he was imprisoned; only ten times worse! Here we go again.
The day he was released my Mum had come to pick me up from my job in Subiaco and when I opened the car door I couldn’t believe what I saw. You guessed it, she had a black eye! I shook my head in disbelief and I asked her what the hell is going on? She told me Paul had punched her because my younger sister Amy refused to say hello to him when he walked in the door. I said, "You got a black eye because of that!"
My God! The man had only been home an hour and already he was already showing signs of his past violent behaviour.
Many times when they would argue, I would go into my bedroom and stare into the mirror at myself and cry, asking God, “Is this going to be my future and will I, keep having to witness my mother being constantly beaten and abused night after night?” I persisted to pray, “God please stop this, we can’t keep living our lives in fear of this coward and it’s certainly not the way we want to live. We all want out but it seems we don’t have a choice.” Every time after my little chats with the guy upstairs, I always felt better even though sometimes I felt he wasn’t listening.
As time went by, the same shit went on and on but then one day
