To kill a child

Chapter One:

To kill a child: One Cup Of Flour To Make Our Bread

Welcome readers to a horror of the worst kind, Alienation of a Human Life from birth to the inevitable ending to come.

Imagine seeing “safe” a concept we learn very early in life. Physically theirs no safe but mentally your in heaven at around 4 months gestational. You learn a connection with a feeling or a voice in a world of mostly darkness and warmth. Then you’re born, let the magic recipe begin for us.

One part hidden neglect while they fake regular routines of community interest ( You know, for appearances) Lets call this the Gluten of our recipe we will make some bread, I sure love homemade bread.

1 cup Flour… Hidden Neglect ie: read above for the logic of this recipe jeesh!

Just 1 cup brings the whole recipe for our bread into view. Doesn’t it sound delicious so far? Okay lets move on.

I feel like going back to safe? Lets do that.

Safe is learned very young at conception and so forth. We learn our next level of safe for life, right? Okay we have love first that chemical feeling every professional says to ignore because its not the law.

Touch is wonderful and our favorite from the hugs and the cuddles and the warmth “We all still crave this ya know” Smell is another what we smell can cause our safe at anytime. Simple reminders of childhood, and we will talk later about smells trust me, because cant make our bread without those smells mmmmm..

So touch is the first real world experience with safe in my view and if its broken the ripples are endless!

I dont talk about strangers or neighbors. I’m talking about in your life family and the concept of safe and bread making people keep up.

So time for a example which fits this recipe. Ready?

Before you turn this page you prepare yourself, and do it now. (currently melting in trauma tears)

Do you feel whats on this next page at all yet before you’ve decided?

1

First began infancy and toddler-ism. Camping? Check. Took part in the community and was loved? Check.

To peer behind the vale can removes one breath in a single glimpse. Horrors only ever spoken as a biblical description of hell.

Walking in to a father who had a secret issue with young people porn was my first introduction to a traumatic event that confused me as to what okay was? We as kids until we are developed enough to be safe! is supposed to be 19 with some bending earlier for celebrations. We are not supposed to be a punching bag for the crazy shit that pops into our families heads. Holy shit slow us down a little with drugs and alcohol? Just a little….

So another glimpse. My father would beat my brothers and belittle them in front of me to build him up and it fucked my brothers up really bad. A job doesn’t make you okay, remember this for your life.

Next momentous event would be my brother being shoved through a glass coffee table and then my father rushing to fix the glass before my mom got home so he could hide what he did to Older Bother 1.

So daily reminders how each of them were pieces of shit and weekly clashes with mom were he would smack her and throw her around until he could calm down because I was too little to do shit for anyone,

Again another bloody week in our household but we were all great people and the community loved us? So how could this level of expectations from a community have a hidden side that no one is able to see? Because they are in on the plan of complete freedom and wild west mentality in behind in the shadows while the volunteer at your schools thinking your kids are whore because they wear makeup.

Thank Cory from good old gf for ruining another protective fantasy we have about RCMP.

These predators are everywhere now and its a conservative mentality that’s moving us their honestly.

Im not a man or a women if you wonder, im not canadian or american. Im Human. Its a concept that makes more sense than dividing us all for all the idiotic reasons we come up with.

So my brothers were savagly abused and belittled as I learned from it. I beat my brothers bloody with a hockey stick and I still remember it and so do they. Im sorry you two I never meant that and no one showed me anything but abuse. My dad was mad and beat one of them, I cant remember which but they were both in the room. My dad finished and I dont even know why I just picked up a hockey stick and began hitting them savagly in the face. I may have been angry from before my dad was mad about something and took revenge in that moment. But in my defense I was like 3 or 4 living through hell myself.

So a little abuse, we got some flour? THE YEAST! must use a good strong proofed yeast youve prepared, obviously.

Dont worry it gets much worse. Were building up to things people.

Chapter 2

Child begins to die: Were adding yeast people!

So the next event on my mind was…… THE END OF A MARRIGE.

Abrupt chaos, black eyes, blood. It was mild I guess, I was watching Dark Crystal as they argued and mom rushes me out to the car after hours of screaming at her by my dad. She gets me in the car and buckles me up (I remember this very well)

SMAASH!! PAIN all over my face and shoulders, just the shock sent me into a historical meltdown with almost no sense of what was happening and my mom yelling DAVID IS IN THE FUCKING CAR. David began to vanish at a faster rate this day. David is in the fucking car, really? Dad you knew I was in their and mom was leaving, cmon. David never fully fucking returned this day and the rest will follow.

So Our Bread needs some air people gotta let it rise.
Here the fluffy.

We moved out to a new life only it wasnt. My lovely abused brothers decided they were going to return the favor to young David and they would return it forever. Boy did they ever. So it began with severe consequences while mom was at work under the guises of he swore we had to fill his mouth with Tabasco powder, he just swore mom its okay. They built a wall between us because of my dad that has yet to come down even as im in my 40s.

So more on mom the one who gave us some air to breath finally. DEEP INHALE… Okay its over.

Sexual abuse time folks one vital ingredient in killing a child all together obviously, were making bread still stay on track. You need my recipe for me to know how I work so Im laying it out for you, Pay attention please.

Forget the mental abuse even the spanks and tortures that didnt kill me, you want a child to die all together get a SAFE set of pissed off brothers to complete this recipe for me.

Come home and moms still at work, we lived by guilford mall off 104^th in surrey BC. Nice townhouse with a pool for the kids, it was awesome.

Here david lets go play mr dressup upstairs. Okay safe and lovely family people Ive trusted forever until in about 2 minutes it fucking ends forever.

Up the stairs we go, man I love having big brothers…..

Get the clothes out and all of a sudden it goes from happy to something else? A weird dark feeling erupts as they start complaining about My Father and Mom only loves me. Huh? I just wanted to play mr dressup something doesnt feel right I cant put into words and im nervous to run because they are huge to me. 10 seconds left people. (ima mess lets do this) They look at each other like only they know a joke and im curious, here brother one turns around “Look” and a new era has dawned. Touch it…3 seconds left…. and the words that make me want to just drop off a bridge at this moment. Ready im fucking not, this is my murder after all.

Taste it…. and ive died. No more seconds no more nano seconds,no more up the stairs and to the left to their shared room. No more fantasy as to what death was, it was here I just didnt realize it yet.

So the yeast fucking killed it all, oops. This torture went on for a few years and has burned my very soul. im the raped and I know what happens to our inner child, it dies forever. Even if you are 5 you die forever inside…forever.

So we got some air and it got worse, turns out my dad kept the bad at bay a bit too hard but my only evidence was as soon as I left the raping began, actual raping of a child. It was both of them over and over and over constantly reminding me of what a piece of shit I was for being in this world and how my dad was garbage for always hurting them. Umm ya I agreed, they were my brothers. But the rape continued daily forever and ever it felt. So we can move on now ahead a bit.

Mix your mess really good people were still saving it.

Okay so moms trying so hard to handle us 3 boys, work work work. I appreciated that mom and I noticed.

Abused, stomped on and beaten and everything else and still needed to try and elevate her boys. I couldnt ask for help I was gone. Something was wrong with me I thought, I began talking to trees because they were my only safe friend and the berry bushes. Kept me hours of safe play were no one touched me and there was something wrong with me because I was raped so much I thought I was bad, very evil. Dont look at me im bad and broken and cause people to hurt somehow. DONT FUCKING COME NEAR ME IM BAD.

This was my mind for years as I dabbled in drugs at the age of 10, no joke. The chronic sessions begin I guess. I dont know proud of myself. When people say proud of yourself I dont know what that means or what feelings im supposed to have.

Years later brother 1 was in foster care and brother 2 just ran away and started his own life at 16. There stories never ended constantly angry and abusing drugs and drinks. Watching one extremely loud and one who is quieter I can honestly say they were lost well before me and I was too young to realize it. I think they think their okay now because they work?

So by the time the older ones left it was just me. Mom taught me to cook and had extreme anger sometimes but she only spanked me for a small time window in my life and stopped because it wasn’t effective. It was her friend that told her to. “ it would get me under control” No mom you dont know the cause, punishment will only make it all worse. Im the raped but she didn’t know this yet. She wont find this out for more than a decade. But she is a smart gal, she picked up on the signs so many times and I wanted to tell her but she would always ask me, david did your dad touch you? Was it dad? Did dad hurt you? Dad,dad,dad?dad?dad? No mom. My brothers sexually tortured me when you were at work. I didnt have the heart to tell her, I was afraid she would hate me to. No mom dad doesnt touch me. Cmon mom I just wished she named the right names and I wonder what I would have done? It wasnt the right names mom im sorry.

So I ended up going to foster care, mom couldnt handle my outbursts and trouble making. We as kids forget the life long beatdown our parents go through sometimes before we are their. So when they get upset too much, there is a reason for it. Something happened to them too and this is where communities are losing any ground with families. Mom had it worse at one time. It really breaks a mom a bit if you just beat them until they agree. Your not a alpha male at that point if you hurt your spouse and cant take words being thrown and keep yourself together at all times. Every problem can be fixed with logic and hard work. Not me but I know it works for some I hear.

Chapter 3

Keep the kids dead: Foster care in BC.

It wasnt nice and no one gave a fuck period. I guess my first foster story was at a foster home run by a really stressed out lady that mess her pants then put them in our faces and say we made her do this, it was wonderful really the love the foster home has for its kids…

Where im really trying to get to past lee which just messed my brain up but lets go to Betty in mission betty. First couple days are always nice in a foster home until all workers are gone and your settled and the fun begins. 4 am wake ups check, no tv because. It was a really large hobby farms and the foster kids were the only labor and the born kids watched and called us names. It was love I guess im told. Punishment was left in the dog kennel with no dinner or snack. Worse punishment?She would drag me around by my penis when I didnt give a fuck anymore. It was her that caused me not to care and she was too mad all the time to realize it. So my penis still has a weird left curve from the way she would yank it and pull me around. I would cry and sometimes not be able to walk okay because of the sting. It wasn’t okay and this is who they trust our care and safety. Gives you a glimpse of who the ministry of child and family really is. They do not love kids at all, but they do like playing superhero and then getting their big apt on the back as their budgets increase for salaries and they leave the kids behind more and more. The work didnt bother me day in and day out, the cage wrecked my knees forever and im still traumatized by the abuse and you are not allowed to ask for help because it means they made a mistake.

To be continued the child is still kicking and twitching at this point and im 43 so we got a ways to go I get very emotional writing this and need breaks as im going sometimes it takes me a few weeks to continue this but bare with me please.