Some of the worse moment of my childhood are the times when I was beaten whilst sleeping.
Lying in bed sleeping peacefully to be awaken by the bed covers been snatched off me whilst the wire snaps against my skin for a rude awakening.
I would never want to believe this my reality as thinking about this brings a tires to my eyes.
How I cried and scream with my bare legs exposed by my thin nightdress.
Caught completely off guard my brain unable to catch up and comprehend the intense pain and the wire curls around my legs and back.
An immediate intense panic as I am powerless to move. I beg and plead and apologise several times “sorry mummy I won’t do it again” I repeat this phase several time. Unsure what crime I have committed my head is spinning around and around.
These are the worse moment of my life because in the confinement of my own bed with a knee and a hand holding me down I am powerless to move. I know if I make her very angry she will strangle me or sit on me as she does my sister.
My brain is frozen I focus all my energy on squeezing my muscle to not wet my bed. I know she will kill me if I wet my bed. Every part of my body hurts my legs are pulsating along the path of the lashes have marked out.
Why do I never learn? God knows I try hard to be good. The message is beaten into me word by word, ” how dare you, how dare you speak to ??? Last night”. All I can say is sorry a hundred times and promise not to do it again.
As quick as she arrives she releases her grip holding me in place and turns and walks away. I stop apologising and watch as my legs shake uncontrollable with tremors. I wipe my eye several time and I notice me arms and hands are shaking too.
When she get me when I’m sleeping it hurts even more. Now im angry with myself for sleeping and speaking out of turn.
I say I quick prayer “please god just let me die” I want to wake up from this nightmare but my body still shakes and I look at the wire marks along my lower body which have swallowen up I know I’m awake.
I have to get up quickly and prepare for my bath. My Cotten night dress is difficult to remove as the sweat has stuck it to my skin. I’m angry with it for not protecting my legs and riding up to my waist to leave me exposed.
I feel an eruption of tires ready to escape but I swallow hard and bite my inner lip. I taste the salty blood in my mouth and a sallow it before moving.
I suck my inner bottom lip which provides me with comfort.
I still do this today when I’m distressed I suck my inner bottom lip and I find it comforting. It prevents me from crying and helps steady myself emotionally. To me it feels like Iv been given a hug and I tell myself everything will be ok.
I often hold onto my bed sheet tightly and react instantly when they are pulled when I’m sleeping.
I tense my muscle and I prepare to be lashed. That when I tell myself I’m ok and no one is going to hurt me. Sometimes when I’m sleeping I hear that distinctive sound the wire made as it cuts trough the air whistling on the way.
Sometime I wake up by jumping on my feet into the middle of the room, as if Iv been ejected from my bed with a wake up button. This never falls to give me a instant headache but I have to remind myself I am safe.)
My missing tooth.
Me and my sister were messing around in our room. We had been told to go to bed. My sister said something funny and I started laughing. As the door swung open with excess force I held my breath regretted my actions.
I was sitting at the end of my bed She stepped towards me with two big heavy stamps. I heard the thump sound as her hand whacked me lower face.
As the bloody instantly fillied my mouth I swallowed not realising it was my tooth that got knocked down.
She screamed and shouted at me to go to sleep now and I obeyed. As I lye down I was preparing for another hit in the face but she turned a left. I continued to swallow my blood in my mouth and I went to sleep as tires slowly ran down my face.
I was worried that my blood might drip out of my mouth when I was sleeping and get me in more trouble.
I didn’t say a word to my sister didn’t even look in her direction because it was unfair and she was to blame.
Well that’s what I though at the time.
The amount of time I got slapped in the face and had my lip busted open were many.
My mother would say do you want to drink your blood as warning when she was getting angry. But whenever she did slap us across the face there was no real warning. Just the taste of blood as you ran your tonge down your cut. My lip would always swell up on the half that got hit.
As my sister was a lighter complexion you could see hand prints and ring marks along her face.
A slap across the face didn’t hurt as much as our normally punishment but it was normally done in public and was a quick sharp slap that was the beginning of a attack.
The rest you would recieve when you got home away from the public eye.
If I wasnt standing strong that one slap would send me falling or cause me to bang into a wall.
But what hurt most was the way it dented your pride and was public humiliating. It was so embarrassing I would make my way to the toliet and cry and check my face there if I was allowed.
Some times I would spit out the blood in my mouth but mostly swallow it.
Diary of a Mad Black Woman 