child abuse

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My mom has a friend that adopted a cild. here's his story (or what i heard):

this guy was an orpah. He had evil parents. the parents woujld smack him and throw him against the wall. theyd throw him against the walls until blood was sguriting out of him. he eventually ran away, when he aws 13. My moms friend adopted him and took care of him. he was top of his classes. he grew up with them happy. Now he is 29 and lives with his mother taking care of her. ( i think she has cancer) Now isnt that bittersweet?

 
Those are all so terribly sad, i think the whole concept of beating someone is sad. :D

 
Child abuse is very serious, and i know what i'm talking about.

I am now writing a longer story about the hidden aspects of domestic violence, and the harm it does. I'm a grown woman now, but I know the frustration and the urge for revenge. -i made a cartoon in fourth grade where i drew my own grave and the casket underneath. i think it had an impact on my teacher.

I hate this kind of criminal impulses. my children will never know this treatment, but i will guide them how to never let strangers do anything to them. When you are little, you are not only very helpless, but you also know that you are helpless. grown ups are supervisors and caretakers, but they can in man cases be like monsters.

I wrote this on the drawing:

Neglected children! dead children! raped children! Welcome to Phantasmagoria!

They can never get you!

 
I am happy to say that child abuse is now very rare, that is as far as  I know.  But one day it comes back to the parents.

Camelle
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Because there is a wide aspect of what's called child abuse it's not rare at all.

My mother was married to an iranian man. That man soon caught my opinion as a Satan-character. He used to hit me, not only with his hands, but also with objects- like bottles, branches and once, he threatened me with a hammer. I remember he tried to set my schoolbooks on fire. For a muslim man like him, women did not need education. They had no souls anyway! He wanted me to stay home and make his home comfortable. I ran away many times, and I tried to kill myself many times from eight and up. I imagined that I belonged somewhere else. :blink:

He has a son with my mother. He is my half brother, and I adore him, but I hate coming back to the place where I can sense my own fear. My fear still lives there.

My mother was no better. She had a control freak issue. But I think my stepfather was the man behind. My mother needed control over me, more than my older brother, that moved to our dad. She and my stepfather used to hand me one towel, one sponge, and one tiny bottle of soap every week. If that bottle was empty before monday, I was welcome to stink! If my towel was wet, I was welcome to stand and dry. I had two pair of shoes for four years - and they were a mess. I wore the same type of clothes, winter and summer, I had basically no mittens or warm jackets - not even a scarf. I was very much sick, but I had no right to rest! There had to be 37 coloured pencils and a pen in my pen case. Schoolbooks were placed and labeled, large books on the inside, small books longer away from my back. Everything had to be there! God, it was so heavy. My lunchbox 'did not belong in a schoolbag', and I was only at school for six hours!' - so they skipped it. My mother kept a shop, and worked very much while I was home. If my mother wasn't home, my rights to eat were gone.

For christmas when I was twelve, my father sent me the first book in the chronicle Harry Potter. I think that, and only that, saved my life and kept me going.

The food in the fridge were labeled. Green was our allowed food. That was a few items, but it didn't grow bad until my brother moved away.

When I was ten, I went to the principal and told her everything. She went to child welfare, but they didn't react until I was fifteen and weighed sixty-eight pounds and was in an emotional coma. After that, I have spent eternities at different mental hospitals, and I have lived in a home for drug-wasted kids. I had five grand indemnification money, and covered health assurances. My stepfather has to stay at least 1,2 kilometres away from me. I have lost all contact with my mother. I visit her of course, but she will always be a fiend to me.

I moved away and hooked up with my dad again. He gave me a job in a pizzeria.

Maybe you don't believe me. Maube you do. I know even worse cases than mine, but it was a great favor to do all the people that has replied here. Thank you.

 
Last edited by a moderator:
Because there is a wide aspect of what's called child abuse it's not rare at all.My mother was married to an iranian man. That man soon caught my opinion as a Satan-character. He used to hit me, not only with his hands, but also with objects- like bottles, branches and once, he threatened me with a hammer. I remember he tried to set my schoolbooks on fire. For a muslim man like him, women did not need education. They had no souls anyway! He wanted me to stay home and make his home comfortable. I ran away many times, and I tried to kill myself many times from eight and up. I imagined that I belonged somewhere else. :mimitchi:

He has a son with my mother. He is my half brother, and I adore him, but I hate coming back to the place where I can sense my own fear. My fear still lives there.

My mother was no better. She had a control freak issue. But I think my stepfather was the man behind. My mother needed control over me, more than my older brother, that moved to our dad. She and my stepfather used to hand me one towel, one sponge, and one tiny bottle of soap every week. If that bottle was empty before monday, I was welcome to stink! If my towel was wet, I was welcome to stand and dry. I had two pair of shoes for four years - and they were a mess. I wore the same type of clothes, winter and summer, I had basically no mittens or warm jackets - not even a scarf. I was very much sick, but I had no right to rest! There had to be 37 coloured pencils and a pen in my pen case. Schoolbooks were placed and labeled, large books on the inside, small books longer away from my back. Everything had to be there! God, it was so heavy. My lunchbox 'did not belong in a schoolbag', and I was only at school for six hours!' - so they skipped it. My mother kept a shop, and worked very much while I was home. If my mother wasn't home, my rights to eat were gone.

For christmas when I was twelve, my father sent me the first book in the chronicle Harry Potter. I think that, and only that, saved my life and kept me going.

The food in the fridge were labeled. Green was our allowed food. That was a few items, but it didn't grow bad until my brother moved away.

When I was ten, I went to the principal and told her everything. She went to child welfare, but they didn't react until I was fifteen and weighed sixty-eight pounds and was in an emotional coma. After that, I have spent eternities at different mental hospitals, and I have lived in a home for drug-wasted kids. I had five grand indemnification money, and covered health assurances. My stepfather has to stay at least 1,2 kilometres away from me. I have lost all contact with my mother. I visit her of course, but she will always be a fiend to me.

I moved away and hooked up with my dad again. He gave me a job in a pizzeria.

Maybe you don't believe me. Maube you do. I know even worse cases than mine, but it was a great favor to do all the people that has replied here. Thank you.
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Awwwww, that's so sad. I'm glad you had the couurage to tell the prtceible, or anyone at least. But the fact that they came when u wer 15, 5 years later was like, RUDE!

 
Because there is a wide aspect of what's called child abuse it's not rare at all.My mother was married to an iranian man. That man soon caught my opinion as a Satan-character. He used to hit me, not only with his hands, but also with objects- like bottles, branches and once, he threatened me with a hammer. I remember he tried to set my schoolbooks on fire. For a muslim man like him, women did not need education. They had no souls anyway! He wanted me to stay home and make his home comfortable. I ran away many times, and I tried to kill myself many times from eight and up. I imagined that I belonged somewhere else. :mimitchi:

He has a son with my mother. He is my half brother, and I adore him, but I hate coming back to the place where I can sense my own fear. My fear still lives there.

My mother was no better. She had a control freak issue. But I think my stepfather was the man behind. My mother needed control over me, more than my older brother, that moved to our dad. She and my stepfather used to hand me one towel, one sponge, and one tiny bottle of soap every week. If that bottle was empty before monday, I was welcome to stink! If my towel was wet, I was welcome to stand and dry. I had two pair of shoes for four years - and they were a mess. I wore the same type of clothes, winter and summer, I had basically no mittens or warm jackets - not even a scarf. I was very much sick, but I had no right to rest! There had to be 37 coloured pencils and a pen in my pen case. Schoolbooks were placed and labeled, large books on the inside, small books longer away from my back. Everything had to be there! God, it was so heavy. My lunchbox 'did not belong in a schoolbag', and I was only at school for six hours!' - so they skipped it. My mother kept a shop, and worked very much while I was home. If my mother wasn't home, my rights to eat were gone.

For christmas when I was twelve, my father sent me the first book in the chronicle Harry Potter. I think that, and only that, saved my life and kept me going.

The food in the fridge were labeled. Green was our allowed food. That was a few items, but it didn't grow bad until my brother moved away.

When I was ten, I went to the principal and told her everything. She went to child welfare, but they didn't react until I was fifteen and weighed sixty-eight pounds and was in an emotional coma. After that, I have spent eternities at different mental hospitals, and I have lived in a home for drug-wasted kids. I had five grand indemnification money, and covered health assurances. My stepfather has to stay at least 1,2 kilometres away from me. I have lost all contact with my mother. I visit her of course, but she will always be a fiend to me.

I moved away and hooked up with my dad again. He gave me a job in a pizzeria.

Maybe you don't believe me. Maube you do. I know even worse cases than mine, but it was a great favor to do all the people that has replied here. Thank you.
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:'( Thats so sad. I need a tissue. I'm crying so hard right now. No joke!!!

 
Child abuse isn't funny.No laughing matter.

Any type of abuse is illegal and is completly wrong.

Why do people do it? It's because people are sick.

Now, I made up this poem about Child Abuse. I think it'll show you what it is.....and how people suffer:

Abused

I lay awake in my bed

Thinking about what Daddy said

"If you don't behave, I will have to kill you."

And there is nothing I can do

 

My name is Brittany Sate

And my age is only eight

I have long brown hair and deep green eyes

And my favourite food is pumpkin pie

But Mommy and Daddy still seem to hate me

Is it a ugly and fat child they see?

 

My mommy comes home from work

Her job is a office clerk

She grabs a bat and swings real hard

She wants to smack me into the yard

She swats me with teh bat but doesn't get that far

 

I fly across the room

And bash into the wall

My parents stand over me, big and tall

They slap me across the face

Saying I look like a discrace

Tears start to run down my cheek

My parents hit me again and say "Don't be meek"

 

Why do they get so angry with me?

Why do they treat me so miserably?

I think it's because they only see

An ugly girl for you and me

 

So now if you're reading this

I'll already be dead

For I commited susicide

Underneath my bed

v.v Do you see what it does to people?

*Tgd*
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I agree. Totally. Anyway, did you write that poem? Can everyone post a poem??

 
Remember Sarah?

It's sad that people would actually even think of throwing their child against a wall.

Child abuse is one of the many abuses that can really happen and pobably overlooked quite a bit by people.

But some people more than others try so hard to stop these kind of things.

Animal abuse is a thing never overlooked with me neither is child abuse.

Yes, it is OK maybe to smack a child softly sometimes but... The child has to understand what they did wrong first

and even if you have an extremely close family member die that is no reason to abuse someone becuase it's not their fault that they died

This is no laughing matter and in some of these poems these kids have committed scuicide... I know this is completely off topic but Missy Higgins once wrote a song about it.

 
heres a started poem:

evry morning i wake up

but instead of eating

the only thing i get

is my morning beating

they slap me and choke me

and cut me with knives

they say that they wish

that i wasnt alive

will update

 
Child Abuse

My name is Sarah

I am but three,

My eyes are swollen

I cannot see,

I must be stupid

I must be bad,

What else could have made

My daddy so mad?

I wish I were better

I wish I weren't ugly,

Then maybe my mommy

Would still want to hug me.

I can't speak at all

I can't do a wrong

Or else I'm locked up

All the day long.

When I awake I'm all alone

The house is dark

My folks aren't home

When my mommy does come

I'll try and be nice,

So maybe I'll get just

One whipping tonight.

Don't make a sound!

I just heard a car

My daddy is back

From Charlie's Bar.

I hear him curse

My name he calls

I press myself

Against the wall

I try and hide

From his evil eyes

I'm so afraid now

I'm starting to cry

He finds me weeping

He shouts ugly words,

He says its my fault

That he suffers at work.

He slaps me and hits me

And yells at me more,

I finally get free

And I run for the door.

He's already locked it

And I start to bawl,

He takes me and throws me

Against the hard wall.

I fall to the floor

With my bones nearly broken,

And my daddy continues

With more bad words spoken.

"I'm sorry!", I scream

But its now much too late

His face has been twisted

Into unimaginable hate

The hurt and the pain

Again and again

Oh please God, have mercy!

Oh please let it end!

And he finally stops

And heads for the door,

While I lay there motionless

Sprawled on the floor My name is Sarah

And I am but three,

Tonight my daddy murdered me.

There are thousands of kids out there just like Sarah. And you can help. Its sick, i hope read this fully and please put it on your websites, pass it on because you would have to be one heartless person to not be affected by this story. And because you are affected, do something about it!! So all I am asking you to do, is take some time to send this on and acknowledge that this stuff does happen, and that people like her dad do live in our society,and I pray for child abuse to wither out and die,but also pray for the safety of our youth. Please pass this poem on because as crazy as it might sound,it might just indirectly change a life. Hey, you NEVER know. Please put this on your site if you are AGAINST CHILD ABUSE. thank you.

this may not happen to everyone but it should be stopped for the protection of the people it does happen to. and also think of the WHOLE WORLD!!! it cant not happen everyday! so take a stand and if u have a friend or someone u know that is getting abused, say something to someone. cuz u could save a life!!! and that is only the start. u could go to the athorities and tell them about child abuse. u could SAVE MILLIONS OF LIVES!!

 
If I were Syliva Likens, I would have packed my bags and ran away as soon as they started to abuse me. I would have run away to an adoption cenntre, so someone who'd care more about me would come and adopt me. No one deseves to be treated like that.

-Camelle-

 
Child Abuse
My name is Sarah

I am but three,

My eyes are swollen

I cannot see,

I must be stupid

I must be bad,

What else could have made

My daddy so mad?

I wish I were better

I wish I weren't ugly,

Then maybe my mommy

Would still want to hug me.

I can't speak at all

I can't do a wrong

Or else I'm locked up

All the day long.

When I awake I'm all alone

The house is dark

My folks aren't home

When my mommy does come

I'll try and be nice,

So maybe I'll get just

One whipping tonight.

Don't make a sound!

I just heard a car

My daddy is back

From Charlie's Bar.

I hear him curse

My name he calls

I press myself

Against the wall

I try and hide

From his evil eyes

I'm so afraid now

I'm starting to cry

He finds me weeping

He shouts ugly words,

He says its my fault

That he suffers at work.

He slaps me and hits me

And yells at me more,

I finally get free

And I run for the door.

He's already locked it

And I start to bawl,

He takes me and throws me

Against the hard wall.

I fall to the floor

With my bones nearly broken,

And my daddy continues

With more bad words spoken.

"I'm sorry!", I scream

But its now much too late

His face has been twisted

Into unimaginable hate

The hurt and the pain

Again and again

Oh please God, have mercy!

Oh please let it end!

And he finally stops

And heads for the door,

While I lay there motionless

Sprawled on the floor My name is Sarah

And I am but three,

Tonight my daddy murdered me.

There are thousands of kids out there just like Sarah. And you can help. Its sick, i hope read this fully and please put it on your websites, pass it on because you would have to be one heartless person to not be affected by this story. And because you are affected, do something about it!! So all I am asking you to do, is take some time to send this on and acknowledge that this stuff does happen, and that people like her dad do live in our society,and I pray for child abuse to wither out and die,but also pray for the safety of our youth. Please pass this poem on because as crazy as it might sound,it might just indirectly change a life. Hey, you NEVER know. Please put this on your site if you are AGAINST CHILD ABUSE. thank you.

this may not happen to everyone but it should be stopped for the protection of the people it does happen to. and also think of the WHOLE WORLD!!! it cant not happen everyday! so take a stand and if u have a friend or someone u know that is getting abused, say something to someone. cuz u could save a life!!! and that is only the start. u could go to the athorities and tell them about child abuse. u could SAVE MILLIONS OF LIVES!!
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That's sad, those kiddies should just grab the whip and give thier parents the whipping of the centery, but they'll get in even more trouble, maybe you should feel sorry for the parents too, even though they are sick and sad, but maybe they suffered child abuse themselfs, they may actually stop if they see another happy family, oh ha ha, that's a laugh, they start and they won't ever stop, they're still SICK!

 
Child Abuse
My name is Sarah

I am but three,

My eyes are swollen

I cannot see,

I must be stupid

I must be bad,

What else could have made

My daddy so mad?

I wish I were better

I wish I weren't ugly,

Then maybe my mommy

Would still want to hug me.

I can't speak at all

I can't do a wrong

Or else I'm locked up

All the day long.

When I awake I'm all alone

The house is dark

My folks aren't home

When my mommy does come

I'll try and be nice,

So maybe I'll get just

One whipping tonight.

Don't make a sound!

I just heard a car

My daddy is back

From Charlie's Bar.

I hear him curse

My name he calls

I press myself

Against the wall

I try and hide

From his evil eyes

I'm so afraid now

I'm starting to cry

He finds me weeping

He shouts ugly words,

He says its my fault

That he suffers at work.

He slaps me and hits me

And yells at me more,

I finally get free

And I run for the door.

He's already locked it

And I start to bawl,

He takes me and throws me

Against the hard wall.

I fall to the floor

With my bones nearly broken,

And my daddy continues

With more bad words spoken.

"I'm sorry!", I scream

But its now much too late

His face has been twisted

Into unimaginable hate

The hurt and the pain

Again and again

Oh please God, have mercy!

Oh please let it end!

And he finally stops

And heads for the door,

While I lay there motionless

Sprawled on the floor My name is Sarah

And I am but three,

Tonight my daddy murdered me.

There are thousands of kids out there just like Sarah. And you can help. Its sick, i hope read this fully and please put it on your websites, pass it on because you would have to be one heartless person to not be affected by this story. And because you are affected, do something about it!! So all I am asking you to do, is take some time to send this on and acknowledge that this stuff does happen, and that people like her dad do live in our society,and I pray for child abuse to wither out and die,but also pray for the safety of our youth. Please pass this poem on because as crazy as it might sound,it might just indirectly change a life. Hey, you NEVER know. Please put this on your site if you are AGAINST CHILD ABUSE. thank you.

this may not happen to everyone but it should be stopped for the protection of the people it does happen to. and also think of the WHOLE WORLD!!! it cant not happen everyday! so take a stand and if u have a friend or someone u know that is getting abused, say something to someone. cuz u could save a life!!! and that is only the start. u could go to the athorities and tell them about child abuse. u could SAVE MILLIONS OF LIVES!!
Click to expand...
I just told like 5 people on AIM

~Creks~

 
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