Kindle Edition
Amazon
Amazon
Amazon
Category:
Memoir
Publisher: amazon kindle
ISBN-10: 1512264067
Type: Non-Fiction
Pages: 413
Copyright: 19 May, 2015
ISBN-13: 9781512264067
Price: $2.99 (eBook)
My life started in the Scottish islands of Orkney. My father started to violently abuse me at 4 years old, and continued until I was 21 years old.
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Peedie William was born in 1956 in Kirkwall on the Scottish Island of Orkney. Peedie lived through and beyond horrific child abuse. This book tells of his brutal beginnings when he is only four years old when his mother goes in to hospital to have baby number three. Peedie’s clothing was stripped off and he was hung upside down on a hook on the back of a cupboard door by the ankles, and beaten with his father’s huge hands, then taken down once he stopped screaming and then almost drowned in a bath of cold water. Even as he was held under the water thrashing about and fighting for his young life, he could hear his drunken father laughing at him. His abuse and ridicule follows him through his school years, and has a major impact on his mental health. The family grew until he had six siblings all living with him in a two bedroom cottage. Peedie was never acknowledged as a son by his violent drunken father. This is the true story of a childhood lost, and the struggles to overcome the mental anguish afflicted on him throughout his young life. This story will take the reader on a painful journey as Peedie moves with his siblings around Scotland, from house to house, and school to school, always just evading the authorities who could have helped him. Peedie eventually gets admitted to Sunnyside Royal Psychiatric Hospital when he was only fifteen years old where he has to endure barbaric electro convulsive therapy. This story leaves nothing to the readers imagination. There are some lighter moments throughout the book which will make the reader laugh, but his story will make you wonder how he survived to tell his story, and what can happen behind closed doors.
Excerpt
The Chosen one
I lay under the grey army blankets with only a candlewick bedspread as a sheet, and a long bolster pillow as wide as the double bed. I had just finished crying. My eyelashes were still wet with tears. When I closed my eyes nearly shut; I imagined that I was looking through flies’ wings. That's what it looked like with the tears in my eyelashes, when I looked at the light on the ceiling.
My gran had gone home now, and she would be back in the morning to let dad go to work. Mum was in hospital having a baby, and gran was looking after us. I shared my double bed with Ann, my younger sister, the chosen one, she could do no wrong. I had just been slapped about again by my dad who had been standing outside our bedroom door listening to us laughing and having fun when we should have been sleeping; and I was the only target. He barged into the bedroom, snatched me up, and I was bundled into the bathroom. My shirt and pants were stripped off, and a leather belt was wrapped round my ankles, and then dad hung me upside down naked on the airing cupboard door coat hook, which was on the inside of the door. He slapped and hit me so hard again and again that I could not stop screaming, and then he shut the door.
"When you stop your fucking screaming you will get out you peedie pansy bastard".
The door was opened again, and I was slapped so hard, again and again, the pain was stinging, a searing heat almost like an electric shock. I had big lumps on my head where he had twisted my hair so hard that big clumps had come out. Blood was dripping out of my nose, I could not see it but I could feel it, dripping like a tap. I soon learned to stop crying on demand, he loved to see me suffer. It was dark in that cupboard, and it smelt foul. Dad made home brew to drink at home when he could not get to the pub, and tonight it was my blame he could not go. The cupboard was huge, a long narrow place with shelves down both sides, and at the end. His shelves were heaving under the weight of the dozens of full bottles he stored in there, they bubbled and fizzed and sometimes the corks popped out. All the clothing and bedding were crammed on the narrow row of shelves at the end. I could hear the water dripping in the hot water tank, and I could still hear dad’s heavy breathing just outside the door, hoping that I would start screaming again so that he could get an excuse to open the door and lash me with his mouth and hands again. He was a beast of a man and he hated me. I pleaded to get out of that place; I called out dad, dad, dad, again and again, and he roared out a sentence that I was to hear a lot throughout my childhood life.
"I only have your mother’s word for that, I am not your fucking dad".
But I was only around four years old at the time and did not understand what he meant. The door opened suddenly and the belt was taken down from the hook and dad released my feet, the blood rush when I stood up made me dizzy.
"Get to your fucking bed before I change my mind you pansy peedie bastard, and don't waken your sister or fucking else"
He kicked me hard in the leg as I ran away, and I fell over in the hallway and banged my head on the wall. I saw stars and a flash of excruciating pain surged through my body. I was scared to move in case he came at me again so I lay still.
"I told you to get to your bed you bastard not to lie there, now fucking move."
He was looking at his home brew so I took my chance and got up and tried to run but my leg was numb, I limped and scrambled along as fast as I possibly could but the beast of a man spotted me and lunged for me again with a sweeping brush, laughing like a madman.
‘’That got you moving you peedie pansy cunt, now get to fucking bed"
Ann the chosen one was downstairs sitting on dad's knee when I got up in the morning. Her blonde tousled curly hair was getting swept gently off her face by his gigantic hands. My gran must be coming here soon, as dad is dressed for work. I liked my gran, she was kind and gave me cuddles, something I never got from dad or mum. Mum was always busy with Ann who always seemed to be on mum's knee getting her hair brushed and getting ribbons put in. Gran came in the door wearing the dark paisley pattern apron she always wore. She was a big woman, taller and bigger built than my mum, but she was nice to us.
"Have you had your breakfast yet?"
We had not even had a drink, and Ann was needing her nappy changed, she was very smelly.
"Well we'll get this stinking nappy changed first, then we will get you some breakfast"
We got porridge with thick cream milk, and sugar sprinkled on the top, we always had plenty milk because dad worked on a farm.
"Time to get dressed now get your bedtime clothes off and we will get something warm on so that you can go out to play"
Gran stood still, with a look of horror and shock on her face, just staring at me with her gaze transfixed.
"What has happened to you? You’re covered in bruises, you look like you have been in a car crash"
I could not tell the truth or I would suffer tonight again when she went home. The bruises were never mentioned to me again. We got dressed and headed outside, coats and hats on. The garden was as big as the house, a large two storey ex farmers’ house with large rooms. We had four bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs, and two living rooms and a kitchen downstairs. The inglenook fireplaces were massive with wooden mantles. We did not use all the rooms because we did not have enough furniture. Our last house we had moved from was only a small two bedroom cottage. The garden was all grass and bushes, with two old cars parked in the middle of the lawn. They were dad’s cars, but they were mostly used by me and the chosen one to play in when dad was at work.
I had chalks for drawing with and Ann joined in to help draw a picture for mum coming home. Before long we had pictures on the inside panels of the car doors’, and on the backs of the leather seats, she would be pleased we thought, mum would love them.
"Come on you two, we are going to my house to wait on the grocers van because he will be coming soon".
We headed off along the narrow road towards grans, it was only five minutes’ walk so we were soon there. Her great big Alsatian dog was there to meet us, we liked him because he let us ride on his back, round and round the house we rode. He never seemed to get tired of us or the attention he got.
The man in the van drew up at the gate and peeped his horn. Gran headed down the path, then she climbed up the steps in to the van, followed be me and Ann.
"What can I get you today, and who are your helpers?" Archie the van man asked.
"Only sugar, bread, some cheese, and a pound of mince. Oh and a peedie bag of mixed sweets each for the bairns.’’
The Orkney word for small is peedie, and gran used that word a lot. The small paper bag was brown and full to the top, penny chews, little pink mice with string tails, and a red lolly with a foil back as big as my face. We had never had sweets before, mum never got the van because dad owed Archie money.
"Don't eat too many sweets because you won't manage your tea tonight."
The sweets were the best thing I had ever tasted. I chewed and chewed until my jaw was sore. I wished that they would last forever.
‘’Come on you two, time to head back home".
Gran shut her house door but did not lock it, and headed back towards home. We walked along the road jumping over potholes, up on the grass and back on to the road kicking loose stones as we went. Gran was singing The Old Wooden cross as we walked, she loved that song and was always singing it. Our house was in sight now so we started to race each other home.
"Give Ann a chance to win, you are bigger than her and you always win." said gran winking at me.
But I never let the chosen one win, she always won with dad. I was always second in his eyes, and he told me I was not his boy anyway, and never would be. We got back home and I headed back to the old cars. I still had mums pictures to finish.
"Don't be very long in there, you will have to come in soon for tea, and I need a hand to bring in wood for the fire."
I did not go to the cars, and just followed her in to the house. Gran lit the fire and took the ashes bucket down to the ash pit at the bottom of our back garden, and emptied it out. A big cloud of dust rose up in the air and blew back towards her.
"Quickly you two, jump out of the way or your eyes will get full of stoor."
We helped bring in wood for the fire, great big logs nearly too big to carry, until the big box beside the fire was heaped full. The fire crackled and sparked spitting out jets of steam into the room towards us as gran piled peat on top of the logs. I loved the smell of peat burning.
"Sit in the seat and get warm you two and don't go too near the fire, I am going to make the tea now. I will make the fruit loaf at home tonight and bring you some tomorrow because I don't have time today."
Dad arrived home, and he was all covered in white dust. He had been spreading slag on fields near Kirkwall.
"The bairns have been good today and have been a great help. Come and get your tea when you get your hands clean you two."
But the chosen one never heard gran because she was getting tickled by dad, and she was laughing so hard her face was red.
"We were drawing pictures for mum in the car, come and see dad." Ann shouted.
Dad went to look at our pictures, I bet he will just love them too.
"Get out here you little bastard, you should know better than let Ann draw on the car, get in there and clean the drawings off now. There will be no tea for you until it is finished."
I got a slap to the back of my head that made my nose bleed, and was given a cloth to clean the car with.
"Don't be so hard on that boy, he was only trying to do something for his mum coming home. Why is the boy covered in bruises and lumps? You are twenty seven years old, and he is only four for god’s sake.’’
"Well it doesn't help that you pamper that pansy bastard either, he should know better at his age, if he is four now."
I was shut in the car to wipe off the dry chalk drawings. Gran shouted goodbye to me and came over to the car to tell me that she would be back in the morning. I watched her walk away till she turned the corner and vanished out of sight. The next thing I knew I was getting dragged out of the car by the hair and slapped across my ear. He dragged me into the house and headed upstairs, with my feet bumping off every step as I went.
"How fucking dare you make a fool of me in front of your gran you pansy trouble making peedie bastard, get your clothes off you are going to bed with no tea."
He threw me in the bath which he had filled nearly full with cold water; he must have planned this. I could not breathe because I was winded, but he pushed me under the water and held me there. I could see him staring at me through the water, even though I was thrashing about, and I could hear him laughing at me, an unnaturally cold deep belly laugh. I could hear my body banging about under the water, echoing off the cast iron, and amplified by my fear. He pulled me up out of the water, and shoved me back under so many times, I thought that I was going to die. Finally he pulled me out of the bath and dumped me in a heap on the bathroom floor. My breathing was rapid, gasping in air, I felt sick but dared not to in front of him, in case it set him off again.
"That's you had a fucking bath, the only pity is that you are still breathing you bastard, now that will teach you to draw in my car, now get to your bed, and don't let me see your pansy face again tonight."
Dad went downstairs and left me shivering in bed. I shivered for a long time, my mouth was chattering and my skin looked a funny blue colour. I got no tea that night, and nothing to drink. Ann came to bed and moaned that I was cold, she did not know what cold was. I cuddled in to her when she fell asleep and I lay wakened for hours listening to every creak and footstep, in case he came back upstairs; back to punish me for not being his son, then drifted into a deep sleep myself.
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