By Audrey Delaney
An account of a scared and harm little woman who controlled to confront her demons and reclaim her existence.
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Additional info for All My Fault: The true story of a sadistic father and a little girl left destroyed
The all-important blowing out of the candles was the peak of excitement. Usually one of my brothers would sneak up behind me and blow the candles out with me which meant my wish wouldn’t come true. So after some squabbling and Ma trying to pull us apart, the candles were relit and my brothers well warned. Afterwards, we played all sorts of games like musical chairs or musical statues. They often ended in tears, though, with someone crying because they hadn’t won or swearing blind that they hadn’t moved when everyone knew they had.
A holiday we spent on a farm was one such incident that I remember well. My emotions still do somersaults and my stomach contracts when I think about this holiday. The good and the bad memories wash over me and it’s hard to separate them because they go hand in hand. It’s a vicious circle. Once you recall good memories from a particular event, the bad ones come too, nipping at their heels. And the bad ones only end up soiling the good ones. It has taken me years but I can now distil them a little better.
I tried to push them out of my mind and pretend I hadn’t heard them. But it was too late. A door had been opened somewhere in my mind—one that I had sealed shut a very long time ago. I found myself short of breath, and I had a sense of falling into a black void. I sat in the car for what seemed like an eternity, waiting for the music to wash over me again, to wash away the bad memories. This time, though, it wasn’t working; the memories pushed against me, uninvited and unwanted. I gradually allowed myself to absorb what these words meant.
All My Fault: The true story of a sadistic father and a little girl left destroyed by Audrey Delaney
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