In My Dark Place

By Jay Mally

This is a personal story of my life. It portrays the significance of life changing events in my life. These events that shaped and moulded me into who I am today. Although the characters are fictional, the story is based on true events in life. There are no happy or sad endings.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Sep 10, 2016
• ISBN: 9781326785710

Book preview

In My Dark Place

In My Dark Place

Preface:

This is a personal story of one individual’s life.  It portrays the significance of life changing events in his life.  Events that shaped and moulded him into who he is today.  Although the characters are fictional, the story is based on true events in a real person’s life. There are no happy or sad endings as this person still lives. 

Part 1

In The Beginning

Chapter One

I can still envisage being four years old. Sitting at the top of the stairs, covering my ears, crying.  Wishing that daddy would stop. These were memories for me even now in my fifty years later; the events I witnessed and experienced all those years ago, still fresh in my mind.

Four years old and subjected to the emotional abuse that has scarred me for life.  Yes I remember too well those early years, and what my father was capable of.   The smell of alcohol on my dad’s breath, the shouting at my mother and worst of all the times when my dad beat my mother with no regard if I was present to witness his violence.

Other than that, I was a normal four year old, who attended nursery full time.  I enjoyed being at the nursery, enjoying the music and playing with other children.

At this time, my father worked in a colliery and my mother worked in an engineering works.  It was an era of mills and mines.

I had suffered from convulsions, more or less from birth, and had to take medication to control the seizures.  These seizures, to a four year old, were starting to become the norm for me.  I suffered from the seizures throughout my childhood, spending a lot of this time in and out of hospital.

I remember when my father came home sometimes, that he was not in a good mood.  I could smell the beer on his breath, I could see the anger on his face. And all too often when he raised his voice to his mother.

Why the fuck is my tea shrivelled up and fucking dry.  My father shouted as he slapped my mother to the floor; she just lay there sobbing.  Father stormed out of the house.  I held my breath for a while then turned around to go into the living room, turned on the T.V. to watch cartoons.

I listened to mum clearing up the mess in the kitchen.  I knew what was going to happen later, and I wasn’t looking forward to going to bed.

That night and so many nights to come, my father returned home, slamming doors and stomping up the stairs.  I huddled under my bed covers, shaking, tears running down my face.  Just waiting for what was about to happen.  I already knew what that was, it was now a regular thing, becoming almost normal to me. 

Reminiscing of those times, I could feel the fear welling up inside me. Hiding in my bed, just waiting for the horrible noises that would come from my parents bedroom. Then like clockwork I heard my mother crying sheepishly.

No please Danny, please stop it hurts.  My mum moaned quietly, but I