After being separated from my mother twice in my 10 short years of life, I was more than a little excited at the prospect of being reunited with her again. Unfortunately, my elation was to be short-lived when the visits to my bedroom started. Threatening to send me away again or turn the loaded gun he kept in my wardrobe on us all, he kept my silence.
It was to be another six years until I escaped the abuse of my mother's husband and another 30 years before I was able to bring him to justice. Ironically, the one person that should have protected me and helped me fight to stop him, my mother, is still with him to this day.