A Child's Struggle for Acceptance: Ending the Abuse

Naked, wet and bleeding from the forehead, 26 year old Sonja launched into another terror-fueled rampage around her 4^th floor apartment. The torment had started again ten minutes earlier while she was taking a shower meant to calm her. Banging her head against the tiled walls seemed to keep the visions and feelings at bay at first. She struggled to control the situation but the past refused to go away, refused to stay locked inside the safe place she had created as a child.

Sensations of warmth combined with water tapping on her head triggered those vivid, recurring memories, and suddenly she couldn't breathe. With her long red hair stuck to her pale skin mixed with the bright red blood that had begun to trickle down her face, she caught sight of herself in the steamy mirror. Her desire and struggle for self-acceptance failed again as the image of herself reminded her of scenes from horror movies she had seen and panic set in. "No!"

"No! Don't leave me here with them!" screamed the small child. "Where's Mum? I want Mum", she pleaded. "Take me to the hospital and leave me there with her." Silently her mother's boyfriend Rodney brushed her aside and left. She struggled to run after him but two men blocked her path and threw her to the ground. They leaned down toward her as she cowered in the corner of the smoky, untidy room. As 8 year old Sonja started to scream the oldest man, about 45 with nicotine-stained fingers, gripped her arm. She felt the pressure increase followed by sharp pain. She couldn't see what he was doing because she had closed her eyes, too frightened to watch, but she knew that it was exactly what she had been taught to do to help her mother inject 'medicine' on several occasions.

She stopped screaming and struggling as the drug took effect on her small, child's body. The younger man, about 19, spoke to her but she couldn't make sense of what he was saying, it was as if he was speaking in another language. "Do it!" he shouted. He leaned toward her permeating the air with a strong odour of stale sweat mixed with something else that made her turn away. A blow to the side of her head left a burning sensation. Stunned and shaken, she struggled to stand and run but tripped and fell flat on her face. He turned her over and slapped her face several times. This time she didn't move and felt him sitting on top of her, he was heavy and she couldn't breathe. She coughed and started to cry but no sound emerged. The fear was overwhelming and suffocating as she heard him unzip his jeans and felt his weight shift from her abdomen to her chest. A strong odour hit her that reminded her of cat food after it had been sitting all day in the sun. She gagged and choked as he pushed himself into her mouth. Struggling to get away she bit hard. He screamed in pain and anger and punched her repeatedly into acceptance.

He reeked and she vomited on the stained and matted carpet. Still trembling, she noticed the older man starting to undress. "Just pretend it's a dream," she thought and closed her eyes again. But the dream turned bad as he tore off her favorite jeans and forced her legs apart. She was screaming in pain but stopped as he laid a large, heavy hand across her mouth almost suffocating her. When he walked away she remained on the floor too afraid to move, sobbing, tears stinging her eyes.

"Isn't anyone coming to take me home?" she agonized, bewildered by the four days of terror. On the fourth night Rodney returned to collect her and a package.

It was morning; she could see the sun shining through the gap in the curtains, her curtains. "Was I dreaming?" she wondered. First she noticed the blood on her clothes, then the realization of pain hit as she moved the blanket. "No. It really happened." "I'm going to chop it off, cut it into little pieces and feed it to the cat," she fantasized. She sat up in bed and looked at herself in the mirror with disbelief, then shrieked in fright at the blackened, swollen face looking back at her. "Mum! Mum!" Instead she attracted Rodney and she began to cry. "Where's Mum?" she shrieked. "Don't bother your mother, she's sleeping. I've got some medicine for you; you'll feel better in a minute," he said with half a smile. "No!"

"No!" Sonja threw open the door and propelled herself out of the steamy bathroom, her long, wet hair splashing the walls with red tinted water as she raged through the apartment she shared with her husband and 3 year old boy. In the living room she saw her naked image projected on the window against the backdrop of the blackness of the night outside. It was as though the expanding darkness within her wanted to escape outwardly towards the night in a 'like attracts like' plunge into that mirrored self on the glass.

As she smashed through that portrait in the window frame she felt the shards of glass slicing through her skin, and then that momentary rush of adrenaline creating the same excitement she gets from using razorblades across her wrists and arms in other dark moments. These days it's the only way she can feel her own endorphins. Falling into the cool September air she sensed some peace at last. Suddenly someone was screaming incessantly, she wished they'd go away, the echo was making her headache worse. The adrenaline was subsiding, and she was now nauseous and anxious from the surging pain.

Overwhelmed, she began losing consciousness laying there awkwardly on the grassed verge in front of the apartments. Casper the cat, tentative and curious, began nudging and tickling her bare feet, awakening the child's dream. Sonja began dreaming her recurring alternative reality that ends with opening a can of minced penis in aspic jelly, Casper's favorite.

Comment

Child abuse is never a pleasant topic. Sonja is a real person, although her name has been changed to protect her privacy. Her experiences from chilhood have been reproduced in the form of this semi-fictionalized short story with her permission. These events mark a turning point in Sonja's struggle with life. Recovery is slow with many setbacks, but progress is being made nevertheless. Read and understand more about Sonja's struggle for acceptance in society here.