Dad, the car and the gun

anonwearethemedia07012013yt

Sometimes our reality is not seen as something which could be and people choose to believe that it is fiction. No one could survive the reality could they? I did.

One of my most horrid memories is when my mom and Colin Wayne Giles were seperated and I was around 9 years old. Mom was at work and that night he choose to get drunk and come to visit. Now don’t get me wrong, Wayne was and is capable of doing anything whether drunk or sober. You can’t tame evil.

I remember waking to the entire house shaking in the room I shared with my two brothers in the upper floor of the house. The french nanny mom had living with us ran out of her attached room putting on her housecoat. She ran down the stairs to see what happened. Suddenly I could hear her screaming in words I did not understand and then I heard the voice of my father WAyne and instantly knew why she was screaming. I heard the front door slam and the nanny’s screams stop. Then came the ominous sound of my father’s footsteps as he came up stairs. Each step made me tremble more and I knew not even God would be able to help me this time.

Wayne came around the corner, all 6′ 4 of him with his pencil thin build. His dark hair almost stood on his head as he staggered into the bedroom. Both of my brothers, who were sharing a bed, began to cry. They also knew what our father was capable of after having seen some horrible things committed in front of them. He screamed, “Where is the bitch? Where is your f*cking c*** of a mother?” My brothers could not answer through their sobs at this point. He suddenly turned to me and said, “Tell me where the c*** is or I’m going to f*cking kill you little b*tch. You are the reason I was kicked out of the house. You are the reason I was kicked out side with my suitcase on the stairs.” I was sooooo scared. I was crying but never let out a sound because I knew what would happen if I did. I answered him in a very quiet voice, “I I I don’t know.” This only angered him more. He screamed at me, “You little b*tch. You are lying like you lie about everything else.” He pulled a small gun from his waist band and continued yelling as he pointed it at my head. “Tell me where she is you little c*** or I am going to f*cking kill you.” I said again that I didn’t know. I could feel my bladder ready to let go.

Suddenly I heard the most horrid sound in my whole life until this day. I heard the sound of the gun being fired and felt a gust of wind pass within millimeters of my head. I thought that I had been hit with the bullet from his gun but then realized I could still hear him yelling and now I could hear my own sobs and screams. Wayne started to cry and knelt on the floor in front of me. “Here take the gun and shoot me.” I was nine. I was terrified of this man. How many times had he threatened to take my life in the past and now I had the gun in my hands. I could shoot him. I could end the nightmare that this man created. I was nine. I was terrified of this man. I aimed the gun like he told me to and then he fell over. In my mind I had somehow killed him without the gun making a sound. I ran to the phone and called his mom first and then the police. In our house we called family first before the police. No one needed to know our secrets.

My grandmother showed up first and began yelling at me. It was my fault. It was my mom’s fault. It was not her son’s fault. Never her son’s fault.

The police came in and saw the car which had been driven into our house, parked in what used to be the kitchen. That was why the whole house shook. They pushed my dad around on the floor and then told me that I had not killed him but that he had passed out from being drunk. I realized I still had the gun in my hands and suddenly I let it go and it hit the floor. My body sunk to the floor with the gun and started to shutter. I was inconsolable for a long time. The police handcuffed my father and took him away but that never stopped him from any of his other attacks on our family long after mom and him separated.

I wondered all these years later what would have happened had I had the courage to shoot my father and kill him. People have told me that is what I should have done but then I was a terrified nine year old who had been brutally abused by dad since birth so how could I? My mind thought what if I missed? Then what would have happened to me? Maybe this is why I am against guns in the home. Not every gun owner is a responsible one and some use it to target children. My father went on to have another 20+ kids and he abused every single one of them…both boys and girls. If I had killed him then, none of the abuse would have happened. If….

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