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A young girls tale
an emotive poignant wail
often told in flashback form
this book is not the norm
It may switch from point of view
I'm sorry this fact I rue
I wrote from the child's perspective
she made me very reflective
the mam and therapist appear now and again
when the girl allows, only then
writing this made me sad
and very mad
but I've given her a voice
again, I'm afraid she had no choice



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richard anderson

This is too bleak for me but IMHO you have loads of ability. Keep writing.

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Hi Richard sorry its not your cup of tea thanks for reading as far as you did and I so appreciate your comment. have a great day x
Christine Larsen

So glad you've given her a voice, Susan. These are stories that so badly need to be told.

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thanks Christine haven't been able to write anything on this in a while mustn't be in the right head space x



panic attacks





Loved him

hated him





Game playing

innocence slaying





at times he's missed

at times his photos kissed




Hiding in the closet, small as I can be, my only company, my rag doll Polly. I imagine my heart exploding into little pieces and bursting out through my rib-cage. He is getting annoyed now I am getting used to the various tones of his calls. Some days he wheedles and coaxes no matter how long it takes, today his patience with me is thin, and it will get worse for me the longer it takes him to find me. Fear and loathing still make me stay, no matter how bad it gets I will never willingly hand myself over to him.

He is my big brother Andy, and I used to love him, that was before his special games. His first game was with my cat, he always called it pussy and made jokes I didn't get for a long time, I was too innocent, I get them only too well now. The tortuous treatment that cat had to endure I was relieved when she died. Polly is replacing her in my affections. Polly does not squeal or cry in pain so he has no interest in her. Polly's safe and she's all mine.


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Christine Larsen

My heart aches. Had two wonderful big brothers who adored me. How blessed was that?

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I have two brothers also and yes blessed thanks Christine you've reminded me I need to ring them thanks x

She Knew

I wake up realising

she knew

stupid bitch

she knew

Her actions

she will rue

not yet decided

just what to do

I want her to tell me why?

the volume of TV rose

so she couldn't hear me cry

I suppose

To her, I'm just an object

a punching bag for her rage

vodka she protects

me, I'm her cage

The hardest part of all this is that Mammy knows and does not give a toss. She talked to him after she first guessed something was not right, when she found me pushing the sweeping brush in and out of my bottom until I bled. She asked me why was I doing that, slapped me, called me a tart, insinuated I was getting enjoyment out of this act. I told her I did it to make it sore. She said, "Why?" I said sometimes Andy does not put it in my bum if I am too sore or get blood all over him. Again, she slapped me and told me to stop lying, that I was a horrible, attention-seeking brat and just like my father. I would have loved to talk to her about my father but she has nothing good to say about him. He is a great excuse for her to call me names, Andy's father who died young is held up, as a good man, who could do no wrong.

I heard her ask Andy later what was going on and he says I love it and ask him for it, and that she better keep her mouth shut or she'd get a good hiding. She and I both know what he is capable off so she lets him away with it and does nothing to protect me, he is after all seventeen, over six foot and ever- ready with his fists. I would have some sympathy if I thought it was just fear on her part but the other night I was placed in Andy's bed by my mother in a t-shirt of his she had accidentally ruined in the wash, and nothing else, with a note, attached saying apologies and enjoy. She was still hit over the t-shirt but not as bad as usual. My Mother is the beast other Mothers protect their children from. She feels no need to hide under the guise of a wolf in sheep's clothing. Her hatred at home is out, loud and proud.

I look down at what I am wearing, nothing that should get him overly excited, fingers crossed today a hand job will do. Oh, he's gone quiet I can't guess now how near or far he is, it's been two days since last time and he was interrupted then by a friend of his calling for him. That friend stopped my abuse that day I was ordered to get dressed and come down and make them both something to eat, I am eleven, what the hell could I make them too eat that they couldn't do better themselves. That being said I was only too delighted to do it, it gave me a break at least for a while.  The spit that I added when making Andy's gave me huge pleasure. 


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Wow this si sad but somehow life finds a peace of happiness along the way.

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thanks f0r reading and commenting i'm writing this as it comes to me but i hope it ends up happier or her but who knows

Mothers point of View

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To the Bone

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