Tears of a Child by Louise Kinnear - HTML preview

PLEASE NOTE: This is an HTML preview only and some elements such as links or page numbers may be incorrect.
Download the book in PDF, ePub, Kindle for a complete version.

Chapter 9

The past week was dreadful.  I could not wait to go to Sunday school.  I need to speak to someone close to me, God.  I felt closer to God than anyone else.  He really helped me through the past few months. Arriving at Sunday school this morning and I could not wait to get to the seats.  I sing and praise God in the way He deserves to be worshiped.  We sang the most beautiful gospel songs and played some games.  I love being able to put my trust in God and know that He has an answer for everything. During our little classes we were taught to be humble and trust God.  He will help us through difficult times.  He will protect us when we need it even if something bad has happened to you.  He will be your shoulder to cry on when you feel alone.  He will be your friend when you feel pushed away.  He will pick up your broken heart and heal it again. I could feel the tears run down my cheeks.  With no eye contact to anyone, I sat there in total silence.  This is how I feel, exactly how I feel.  All those things kept in a dark place in my heart… in my soul. It feels terrible.  It feels as if I am suffocating, I cannot breathe for some strange reason.  I grab my chest and gasp for some air.  And then I looked up only to find myself sitting alone in the room where we classes.  My teacher noticed my abnormal silence and saw the tears on my cheeks.  She asked the rest of the class to form a class with another smaller group. I cried and cried and I just could not stop myself.  It is eating at me.  I am just too young to be taking in all this pain.  I hear the bashing and screaming and I see myself relay a message from my daddy to my mommy, then I see the bathroom…  “Gabby, please talk to me.” I heard someone say. “I cannot take it anymore.” I sobbed. “I don’t want them to fight anymore. I don’t want my father to hit my mother. I just cannot take it anymore.” I felt her hand on my shoulder. I moved in and just cried and cried until I felt better. “Gabby, you can come to me if you ever need someone to talk to. You cannot keep it bottled up and expect it to disappear by itself.” She explained.  If she really knows the hurt I have been carrying since the bathroom incident, she will not touch me.  I feel so dirty… I want to go home and bath. I want to take a long relaxing bath in my safe haven but that has changed to the room of nightmares. So much for my 15 minutes of peace and quiet under the water where I hear nothing but my inner thoughts and then the nightmare pops into my head.  I just cannot believe it happened to me and no one has noticed the change in me.  My soul is crying out for help… yet no one hears… no one listens. When we finally arrived home all I could think of is what I told her.  I am going to get such a beating for speaking out of the house.  My daddy warned us time and time again about talking out of the house.  He will give us a hiding that we will never forget he always reminded us.  I could not go speak to the teachers because he threatened us. I isolated myself for the entire afternoon in my room.  I sketched for the entire afternoon until four o’clock.  I wanted to go to church for the evening service too.  My daddy did not mind me going because his sister was there to watch me with hawk eyes so yet again, I could not speak to anyone about my problem. When I walked into the church I saw my cousin and I sat beside her.  Not long after I sat down, the pastor and the leader brothers walked onto the platform.  The music started and sang our hearts out. We sang and worshiped God and listen to the word he preached.  “Protect your heart” was the message today.  I really think God sent this message to me through the pastor.  Wow, what a powerful word… Knowing that my aunt and mother are still not communicating, I was still respectful and greeted her politely even though I wanted to rip her heart out and scratch her eyes out.  She just nodded and walked by.  I know she is cross with me because I tried to stop her from hitting my mommy.  Any child will protect their mother especially if they have been in an abusive relationship for such a long time.  At least I was polite and did what was expected from me by my daddy.  I can’t imagine what he will do if I did not greet. “Thank you for dropping me off.  Good night everyone.  I hope you all have a wonderful evening.” I said as I climbed out of the church bus. I can smell cinnamon… “Mmmm, pancakes I whispered as I walked in.” There Suné was flipping it up in the air and catching it just like they do it on TV. “You are just in time for yours Gabby. How many would you like?” she asked. “Please will you make me 3.” I put my order in and walked to see who is where in the house.  Daddy was sitting in the lounge watching an animal show.  Mommy was in the bath at the time.  It is her week off so she can spend some time with us.  I sometimes wonder what life would be like if we had more money, my daddy did not gamble and we had peace in the house that lasted more than two weeks. Walking into my room I grabbed my book bag to pack my books for the next day. “I bet they won’t even bother checking to see if there are actually school books in my bag”. Thinking of having extra money made me realize that I did not complete a project that was due tomorrow.  I know if I go to my father for money, he is just going to say the normal thing; “Go ask your mother, I don’t have.”  This was his normal answer that eventually I just gave up asking permanently.  I know my mother did not have money because she had to cover the debt my father made. It is awful being stuck in this predicament. One Monday afternoon when I arrived home, mommy was busy spring cleaning.  It has been months now that my mommy and aunty have not spoken a word to each other. It amazes me how people can choose to ignore others and even though they do not talk to each other, they have a lot to say about one another.  Reminds me of a story my mommy once told me about my granny not liking her and treating her like a dirty old rag. I remember my mommy telling me of a time when they lived with my daddy’s parents.  She said the old lady was something out of a scary movie.  She treated my mother like dirt and expected her to be the best daughter-in-law at all times.  One day my mommy was very sick and the old man was at home.  The old lady shouted at my mother to clean the house and stop being lazy and at the same time my oldest sister, Carol, was crying for attention.  When the old man asked where my daddy was, she dare not say anything because the old lady’s ears were alert to ensure that she does not tell him.  She did not say a word but she shook her hand as if she was rolling dice.  My daddy was with a group of his friends, standing around the corner gambling.  It is sad to know that the addiction had hold on my daddy at a very young age. Surely someone must have realized that my father had an addiction and he needed some help.  But then again, everything in those days was swept under the carpet, just like my daddy abusing my mommy gets swept deep under the carpet too.