Chapter one

1987 He could hear her footsteps coming ever closer, it didn't take much to disturb him from sleep now. It was almost as if his little mind was set constantly on high alert. She had reached the top of the staircase, now there were only a few paces to go before the bedroom door would open. It must have been pretty late by now, she always waited until everyone else in the house was sound asleep. One time, as she crept through his door, a voice echoed down the hallway: "Mommy, why are you going into Edward's room? Is he ok?" It was his foster sister, her real child, her real daughter. "Yes darling, he's fine. I'm just checking on him. Go back to bed, I'll check on you after."He got the blame for her curiosity, although he never knew why.

He lay frozen, waiting for her to enter the room. She always seemed much bigger in the dark, and much more intimidating. After what seemed like an eternity the door finally opened. Her shadowy figure loomed in the doorway, he could feel his body tensing up and his breath becoming more shallow.

"Boy." she whispered menacingly as the door clicked quietly shut. "I know you're awake."

She made her way over to the bed and pulled the covers off the terrified five year old.

"Yes mommy." he squeaked

"I'm not your mommy, you dirty little brat. That whore is dead, remember." She leaned in, close to the boys face, he could smell the alcohol on her breath. "That is why I'm lumbered with you." she spat.

She had only wanted to foster his older sister, but the social worker had insisted the pair not be separated. Her husband thought it would be wonderful to have a little boy in the family, she did not. But she had bitten her tongue and given her husband his way, but she would make it ultimately clear to the boy that he would never be welcomed by her.

He felt her cold hands wrap quickly and tightly around his throat, he struggled for air but he knew better than to fight back. He silently prayed that it wouldn't last too long

"Wasting my money and my time again tonight, you ungrateful child." the anger in her voice was so profound. "You think I want to be wasting a perfectly good meal on you, boy?!" He instantly knew what she was referring to, he hadn't been able to finish his dinner again tonight. He never could though. How could he when she purposefully always gave him too much? It was just another one of her sick games to make him feel useless and to give herself another chance to scold him when nobody else was watching.

"Well, you'll learn." she hissed as she released her grip on his fragile little neck. "Tomorrow you'll have nothing to eat."

He heard the sound before he felt the sting of her palm across his cheek. He recoiled back as he felt the tears begin to pool in his eyes. Without thinking, he allowed a small sob to escape his lips. she laughed quietly to herself.

"You're pathetic, boy. You never hear your sisters crying like little babies." she taunted. But he was still only a baby, just a small helpless boy. And that was the problem. "You want to learn some gratitude and respect. You'll never be like them though, will you, boy." And with that, she turned and left the room.

The small boy let go of his breath and curled himself up into a little ball. He lay frightened and sore from the assault he had just endured, and his tiny little mind tried to comprehend why the woman who was meant to protect him would treat him with such intolerable cruelty. As his breath began to return to normal and his body stopped trembling he felt the all too familiar feeling of his pjama bottoms becoming warm and wet. He knew there would be consequences in the morning, but he didn't dare to leave his bedroom. So instead he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep as the warm and wet turned into cold and damp.

He awoke to the sound of his sisters' laughter as their mother playfully helped them dress and wash. He could hear water being splashed and shrieks as they no doubt dodged each others' childish attacks. He would never be allowed to play such games.

"OK girls, down for breakfast you go." his mother told them as she placed a hand on his door handle and pushed down slightly, not daring to open the door fully until she was fully certain that both daughters were totally out of earshot.

"Boy, why aren't you out of bed?" she questioned as she furiously flung the curtains open.

"I'm sorry mo..." he stopped himself as addressing her as his mother before he faced another torrent of abuse for that.

She stood, arms folded, next to the bed. "Well are you getting up or aren't you?"

He knew he had no choice but he was filled, once again with fear because he also knew that she would notice the urine in his bed, including the fresh patch he had woken in the night to. He slipped out from under the covers and stood cowering in front of his mother. It was almost as if she had a sixth sense.

"Move that blanket back, boy." she ordered, he sheepishly obliged. "What is this?" she demanded, pointing at the wet sheet. "Pissed yourself again, you vile little rat."

"I...I didn't mean to." he stammered.

"Pah." she exclaimed. "Dirty tramps like you need to be taught a lesson."

Before he had chance to respond she had her hand on the back of his head. She twisted him around and forced the boys face into the wet, stinking bed. "Don't think you're so clever now, do you?" she pushed harder down on his head, all the while whispering insults into his ear. Even at a low volume she had the most threatening tone he had ever heard. "You'll be sleeping in that tonight."

He was trying so hard to remain still, he had learnt that struggling only made it harder to breathe, when she finally relented and threw him, panting to the ground.

"Get yourself ready for school."

He sat quietly in the back of the car, the smell of urine still resting in his nostrils. His throat still sore from the previous evening, but nobody would notice, she never had ever left a mark on him, it was like the incidents didn't ever happen to an outsider. It was their secret.

So many thoughts raced through his mind on the journey to school, maybe today would be the day he would tell one of his classmates. But he knew that day would never really come, the fear that consumed him was too great. All he truly knew was that for the following six hours he could be a normal kid and the fear could be put on hold. Just for six hours.

This is an extract from the book I am currently writing. You can read more of my work on my blog, the link is in my bio.

Thanks for readinf