It is almost 3 O’clock in the morning. Bob and the boys are asleep and I have just woken up. My mind goes directly into the dark days of my life on St. Helena. I think about how happy and care free I was playing in the woods near my house in Deadwood. I would chase butterflies, climb trees, peer into birds nests and pick wild flowers. Life was wonderful playing in the woods. I used to gather little bundles of wood for our wood burner and it was also lovely getting away from my violent grandfather Fred.
But one day, these young men started to knock me down. This one young man knocked me down and started to rip my clothes off. I was too frighted to head back home as my grandfather would emotionally and physically abused me. Even my head teacher would cane me and the second young man would wait in the footpath as I walked by and drag me into the thick underbrush. I would often think that I was going to die as the louder I screamed the longer he would hold me down, and put his hands over my mouth.
These two young men took everything away from me that I had left from my childhood.
When grandmother died I was taken away to live with the Salvation Army. I was so happy the feeling of greatness that I was being taken away from these two evil young men. The thought of grieving for my lovely Mum was far from my mind it was to far and to awful to describe so it was easier to block it out. It was my only escape and the grief lasted from when I was 10 years old to 15 years old. Those young men didn’t stop their evil ways and I was taken away. I was so happy to be taken away I just did not grieve. But for me at the time rape was far worse then grief. I love mumma and she died and I missed her so much but the thought of not being dragged and raped anymore outweighed my grief. Those boys took everything from me.