Why me?

Abuse. Everything starts on an emotional rather than physical level. Namecalling always comes before the hit. The hit puts you into perspective with reality and changes how you see things. Reality can easily be changed if you can escape your own thoughts. "Why am I here? Have I done something wrong? Why me?" These are the questions that, not only are rhetorical, float around in everyone's head. Does everyone deserve to live? Well no-one can answer that. Murderers live for the bad things they have done. They are treated better than homeless people even though they are in the wrong. They get sanctuary, food, privilege's and rights that homeless people don't. Homeless people are abused for simply being homeless. The world is messed up, just like criminals heads. Criminals dream of being able to slaughter another victim each day. Man-slaughterers are conspiracy theories of accidental death. But death is all the same. Once you've killed, man-slaughterers or murderers, your life changes forever. Prison is a confinement where criminals are placed for doing the "bad things." Did them people deserve to die? The victims I mean. Honestly, everyone is a victim of some form of abuse.
     There are 4 types of abuse: Sexual, Physical, Emotional and Psychological. Sexual and physical speak for themselves. Emotional is mainly the one everyone has experienced and caused, whether intentional or not. Psychological is mind tricks. Reverse psychology is where it starts with sarcastic, yet charming, comments that progress into abuse which makes you doubt yourself and know what they're thinking. "That shirt looks nice on you" they would say "Maybe you need a bigger size" they would say "I'm not saying you're fat but the shirt doesn't fit right" they would say and eventually the
final comment would be "You're fat." As if you hadn't already come to that same conclusion. This is their way of making you
depressed but making them better than you. What happened to the UDHR (Universal Declaration of Human Rights) 'Everyone is equal.' Well they fucked up that day. In the end you can change what people do but you can never change what they think and really feel. When black people finally got the right to socialize with white people no-one trusted them because of the laws that were enforced before. It took a long time before the trust between the two races was acceptable. White people didn't agree with black people customs, norms, traditions, beliefs and vice versa. People trust each other now, but anti-social bastards still don't trust them. Black people suffered abuse for a long time so that when they did get the right to
socialize with white people, they felt vengeful. This wore off over time but the scars of abuse never fade.

Connor is a 7 year old boy from Africa. His skin is fairly dark and his brown eyes pierce through people. The proportions on his face stick out a little so that he can grow into a "new" face. He is underfed and bloated from lack of food and water. Dehydration no longer affects Connor as he gets access to very little water. In Africa droughts and famine are the main problem. His parents were few of the richest people in Africa, so they got more food and water than most of the locals. When Connor was 5 his parents told him that they were leaving to live in a better place. Connor was excited but devastated to leave all his friends behind. On the day of the journey to the airport, Connors father was returning from work and crashed when the car went over a ditch. His mother told him that the car swerved over the ditch and lost control. That was the last he heard of from his father and regretted every living moment. Of course, his mum and him still travelled to Britain. They had never been on an aeroplane before and the experience was something that Connor never wanted again. When Connor was 5 and a half his mother re-married and since then Connor has experienced nothing but abuse. When he was in Africa he felt abused by his father because he was never around but now he knew exactly how it felt to be abused. Every waking moment for Connor was another day in hell. He was dismissed from school for a week because his parents said "Connor is emotionally unstable from the accident that occurred 6 months before. We will be taking him away for a while to take his mind off the events that happened on 15th January 2006. We are planning to keep him away from the area so that his past does not catch up with him." The office lady replied "We expect to see Connor back in school in a weeks time." That was the phone-call that proceeded Connors death sentence, or at least it felt that way.

Since Connor moved to Britain, England to be exact, life was hell. His mothers attitude changed towards him. Between the 6 months that followed Connor's 5th birthday and his mothers new marriage, his mum began giving him emotional abuse. "It's all your fault that your father is dead. Your such a stupid child. I HATE YOU!!!!" No child should ever hear there mother say those three words "I HATE YOU!!!!" The words rang like a bell in Connor's head. "Why do you even live here? Your a pathetic little shit that doesn't deserve life. It should have been you. Not your father." Whilst all this abuse went on, Connor would sit whimpering in the corner of his bedroom and all his tears would gush out from his swollen tear ducts. He has cried too often. Connor would stand for this kind of abuse because, in his mind, it was a way of his mother showing her grief and anguish. He knew she was hurting so he took nothing to heart. The thing that worried him and made him cry was his mothers tone and the dynamic of her voice. He never heard his mother use her angry voice before. Then she got married to a poor guy that was only just maintaining himself. James Gordon. Alcoholic, Smoke-aholic and drug addict. Every night he would come home with a beer in his right hand. His fist clenched tightly onto the can, as if it was his last. Drunk beforehand, he would stumble into the room and grab Connor's mothers arm for support. Afterwards he would sit down on the sofa and sleep. This is how life went on until Connor became 7. Then his life changed. Then the abuse came in all 4 ways.

15th January 2008: Connor's 7th birthday

Connor was excited for his birthday party later that night which he would be having. All of his friends were invited. His mum insisted that they should hold a party since it was their first one together as a family. Last year James had to go out on a "business trip." Which seemed to Connor as an excuse to leave him at home. Of course, his mother tagged along quite willingly. Later that night they came back pissed out of their heads and completely unaware of their surroundings. They fell asleep on the sofa, as usual, and Connor had to clean up the mess the following day. Ever since then his mum had promised him a party for his following birthday. He presumed it was her way of apologising. In between that time, life had been great. His step-father stopped drinking and smoking for a while and his mother no longer tagged along. She also seemed to have got over her grief. Although 2 weeks ago, James was spotted dealing cocaine by one of the teachers from school. She called both of Connor's parents in for a confidential meeting. Strictly no kids allowed. It didn't stop Connor listening through the door. "I have recently spotted bruises on Connor's arm and I am quite concerned where they are
appearing from. Would you like to express your opinions on this matter." "Well we have caught him out in the garden playing and then randomly he would fall over. Whether he tripped or not we don't know" James looked to his wife for reassurance. "Yes we have spotted him playing unusual games. We were wondering whether he is a very imaginative kid or whether one of the other kids has influenced him." Connor's mum replied. "He is an imaginative kid that enjoys play time and lunch. Most of the kids tend to enjoy this. My concerns were also raised when I saw James with cocaine the other week." Mrs. Tetterson had a high anger threshold. There was silence that dawned on everyone then. Even Connor's mother seemed surprised that James had been caught, or maybe it was because she didn't know he was dealing drugs. But it explained to Connor why he stopped drinking and smoking. "I think we should leave." James said with a frightening tone that Mrs.

Tetterson didn't argue. In fact she said nothing more. James glanced towards the door and noticed that Connor was ear-wigging. Then Connor knew that he was in trouble. James stormed out the classroom door and whispered in Connor's ear "You're dead." Connor's mum, Jessica, ran after James but didn't take any notice of Connor on her way past. There was hushed voices then and Connor was discomforted by the fact he knew there would be abuse when he got home.
The short walk home was extended, in Connor's mind, by the fact that he knew what was expected of him during the abuse. No talking, no muttering, no screaming, no crying. All of these things were prohibited when Connor was abused. If he even thought of attempting any of these then the abuse would carry on longer. They were just passing the street when James recognised someone. He told Marlene, Connor's mother, to carry on without him and that he would be there in a couple of minutes. To save arguments she did as he said. Although when they got in Marlene whispered into Connor's ear "Go upstairs and get to sleep. If your not asleep by the time your father gets back then pretend." She never called James Connor's Dad, between both of them father was someone who followed on from the real parent. Just like mothers and Mum. They were always more important. Connor replied with a polite "Thank you" and continued upstairs.

When James finally did return it was midnight, Marlene wasn't impressed and Connor could hear them shouting from his
room. He couldn't stand them arguing all the time, it made him feel weak and useless because he could never help his Mum. His ears always bled, metaphorically, from the screams that came from his Mum's restrained voice. Her cries spilled tears over his face. The bruises on her and the cuts, stayed with Connor too. Every bit of pain that
his Mum endured, he endured too. This night was different though, James had never touched Marlene before, SLAP! All was quiet and nothing dared movement. Connor crept downstairs and peered through a
crack in the door. Marlene was on the floor clutching her face and shielding it away from James. The bruises before were from work. This time though it was inflicted intentionally and Marlene was surprised. James has never hurt her through physically touching her. Now he had took the next step. Connor's Mum was being abused.
Now, Connor felt, was the time to escape and get away from England. Now was the time to live another life. Now was, well, Now. Marlene removed her hands from her face and stood up to James. She looked straight through him with her piercing brown eyes. Anger was written clearly across her face. Enough was Enough.