By Anna Lowe
I squeezed throughout the slim hole and out into the hallway and that i stood for a second, not able to choose the place to head. should still I make a touch for the kitchen, the place my mom will be swigging from a bottle? Or should still I run upstairs and take a look at to discover someplace to conceal? It used to be a decision I didn’t actually need to make, simply because there has been no escape. Anna Lowe grows up at the doorsteps of pubs, anticipating her mom to return out; having to renounce her bed room to her mother’s drunken neighbors; and frequently calling out the ambulance, after discovering her mom subconscious and coated in vomit. however it is after they flow in along with her mother’s boyfriend Carl that issues take the ugliest turn—not basically is he violent together with her mom, yet he additionally sexually abuses Anna from the age of six, destroying any semblance of ordinary early life she had left. get up, Mummy is the heartbreaking real tale of a bit lady who finally chanced on the braveness to wreck loose from the earlier.
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Extra resources for Wake Up, Mummy: The heartbreaking true story of an abused little girl whose mother was too drunk to notice
I tightened my grip on my doll, Sally, and tried to tuck her under the open front of my coat. But he snatched her easily from my hands, pulling her away from me with one sharp tug and tossing her on the ground between us. ’ My uncle sounded shocked and angry. ’ My father smiled a slow, smug smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and then ground the heel of his boot into Sally’s face. ’ For a split-second I thought she was finally going to speak up on my behalf. But when I looked at her face I could see that her anger was more an expression of how much she was enjoying the drama of it all than of any feelings of sympathy for me.
She counted aloud, ‘One, two, three,’ and then bent down, putting her mouth over Stephen’s and blowing her own life-giving breath into his limp and unresponsive body. Bernadette clasped her son’s hand and began to whisper, ‘Please, God. Please, God. ’ The other children had followed Sarah in from the garden and they were clustered around her, their eyes wide with fear, when Martha suddenly stood upright, her face flushed with anxiety and exertion, and looked towards them. ’ Martha’s tone was sharp and commanding.
I didn’t understand what Carl was doing to me at the time, and it wasn’t until some years later that I realised he’d taken my virginity one morning when I was just six years old. I’d woken up with terrible earache and my mother had left me with Carl while she went out to get me some medicine. And it was then – as I lay in the bed beside him, crying with pain – that he did something to me that was quite different from the horrible, disgusting things he’d done so many times before. Saying that my mother ‘went out to get me some medicine’ makes her sound like a considerably better parent than she actually was.