"The Haunted House"

Our Mother and "The Dad" separated when I was 4, my Sister was 3 and my Brother (God Rest His Soul) was a newborn infant. "The Dad" physically abused our Mom. I have a memory of "The Dad" chasing our Mom with a knife. I remember our Mom sitting on a rocking chair, with my Sister in her arms, and "The Dad" tried to push them out through an open 2ND story window. Mostly I remember always being afraid...of just about everything.

Our Mother moved all us into her Parent's home, which soon became the "Haunted House". She never returned to live with "The Dad". My Mother was a frustrated young woman with 3 small children. Living with her strict parents, did not allow her to date or go anywhere. She was angry! She felt cheated! She ultimately began taking her anger and frustration out on "us". She became the physical abuser.

Beatings with a wooden spoon or wooden paddle became too frequent in the "Haunted House". The Mom did not know when to stop hitting. Her fury was rampant. I was her main target, after all I was the reason she "had" to marry "The Dad", and I was the oldest. I remember welts on my bottom and back that where solid red and appeared in the shape of whichever weapon she used. In first grade I had a black eye and scratches on my face. She would chase me through the house, out the door and into the yard, and right there.....beat me. I "left" and disassociated....went away. If was fidgety in Church...she would whisper "just wait until I get you home." She never forgot and as soon as we got home, she beat me.

"The Dad" was by far done with us. "He" came around the "Haunted House" just about every night...very late at night...to threaten us. "He" was going to kill us. When he came around, my Sister and Mom and me would huddle in the big bed. I remember shivering from fear and sobbing. "The Mom" would tell me to shut up or she would send me out to him. I would go "away" in my mind and pretend I was walking in the rain....it became my escape from reality. I have always loved walking in the rain. It is peaceful and I feel safe. Of course "The Dad" never did kill anyone.....at times I wish he had and it would have been me.

The "Haunted House" is still standing, with it's black, haunting windows and it's sorrowful memories. Sometimes, when I visit my hometown, I drive past the "Haunted House." I don't know why I do this. Maybe I hope that someday, it will be torn down, demolished like my childhood. The homemade swing, tied to a tree, is still there....looking lonely....I think it worries that I may be dead.

"Child Abuse casts a shadow the length of a lifetime."