Well here it goes...
My name is Emily and this is my story. I am telling my story for the first time ever in detail and this just happens to be to people I don't know (you). I know a lot of people will not believe this story but I can guarantee you this did happen and it happened to me...
All names have been changed in order to protect those I love and care for.
I was born in Auburn (Sydney Australia) to a beautiful lady and a not so perfect father. We were living in a town house. My mother stayed at home to look after myself and my baby brother. Whilst my biological father went to work then the pub every day.
A bit of detail on the town house. When you enter the door you look directly into a small lounge room with a 2 sweater lounge and a tv. When you are in the lounge room you turn to the right and there was a staircase that went to the upper level.
My earliest memory is from 2 years old. My daddy (as I called him back then) had come home and was drunk. He took my Mum up to their room at the top of the stairs. I heard a noise and worked my way up the stairs. I was partly crawling as the stairs were pretty big for a 2 year old. When I got to the top of the stairs I remember feeling the long soft carpet under my feet. I turned to the right and headed towards the noise. I got to my mum and dad's bedroom. The door was ajar so I pushed it open. What I saw before me has never left my mind. My mum was laying on the bed with my dad kneeling pinning her to the bed. Mums face was bloody and he had just punched her in the face as I walked in. He stopped and looked at me and his eyes were almost black. My mum looked over and said "Mummy is ok Emily! I will be down in a minute and we can play a game, daddy and mummy are just playing". I turned and went down stairs and sat on the lounge and cuddled my little brother, he was crying. I tried to soothe him. It was a while before mum came down stairs she had to wait for my father to stop hitting her then he passed out. I remember her face to this day. She looked ashamed but not scared. I can't remember any more of this night but I know it was terrible.
The next morning my father had to go to work and as usual my mum made his lunch and got us all breakfast. I remember when he walked out the door he looked my brother and I and said "don't let the kitten out the door!.
Later that day I got a little chair and opened the front door and the kitten got out. I followed it with my little brother till we found it. We arrived at another town house in our complex. A man came out and looked at us both. He was smiling and had huge big work boots on. He looked me in the eyes and raised his boot up high then slammed it down.... He squashed my kitten right in front of me. I was screaming and crying and as my mum was out hanging clothes it was at this time she realised we were outside. She came running down and saw what happened (she was so bruised from the beating taken the night before) she picked us both up and took us inside. Not long after the man dumped the kitten at our door. When my father arrived home he was furious. I remember him getting a garbage bag and putting our kitten inside he walked out the back and disappeared but not for long. He came in yelling at us and my mum said she had let it out accidentally when she went to hang the clothes on the line. Well they went back upstairs and started playing games again.....
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