Rosemarie Smith - Molly II

www.grosvenorhousepublishing.co.uk

In Molly II, I have tried to give some insight into the aftermath that occurs in a victims life following child abuse. It is a true account of my broken marriages, failed relationships, abduction and attempted murder.

Rosemarie Smith

This book is dedicated to all those who have struggled through life as I have. To all who have suffered abuse and neglect and to those who are still suffering.

God bless you all

Am I who I should be..? This is a question that I have always asked myself. I look back over my life and wonder how I ever survived the terrible trauma of sexual abuse and abandonment and the heartbreak of so many broken relationships, then I cast my mind back to the rare occasions when I felt safe and happy; then I thank God I was one of the lucky ones.

I was aged fourteen when I first considered writing my autobiography, but then the reality of a broken home and abused childhood influenced my decision to postpone it until after the death of my parents, as I felt that their being made aware of the full devastation that occurred during their absence would have affected their psychological state far more than I would have wanted. Even now, years after their passing, I cannot find it within my heart to persecute them for something that I feel society helped to create.

When I first started writing Little Molly, I had no inclination whatsoever that it would result in my writing a sequel. Part two and part three of Little Molly both depict the true story of a young mother and her childrens struggle to survive after being destroyed by the effects and aftermath of child abuse.

As a young woman I was under the illusion that my life had returned to normal and was pretty much like everyone elses, but then as I experienced first one unstable relationship after another, I realised that living in constant fear and suffering both physical and mental abuse was far from normal. This is the continuing story of my life as Little Molly. It is a true account of all the physical and mental suffering which my children and I incurred after the sexual abuse I suffered as a small child through to adulthood. It describes in explicit detail how I was kidnapped, and my assailants attempt to murder me. It also includes my long, extended fight to regain custody of my three youngest children, Cheniel, Kyle and Allishia, following a breakdown and diagnosis of my epilepsy.

Some of the names in this book have been changed in order to protect the innocent. As with Little Molly, I have decided to omit certain memories for the sake of my family. If, however, I have offended anyone, I apologise most sincerely.

This is an extract taken from my first book, Little Molly by Rosemarie Smith

I wasnt very old when I began to realise that no amount of hoping and wishing would ever change anything. If I wanted to survive the cold, cruel abuse and abandonment then I had to hide away my weaknesses and radiate strength. I hated the dark nights; they seemed to last forever. There were many times when I woke up crying during the night, wondering why I was so cold Looking over my sleeping siblings I cried silently so as not to alarm them. I lived my life with poverty and hunger. If it had been just those two things maybe it wouldnt have been so bad but I hated the sexual abuse from my brother. I spent a lot of my childhood heartbroken and feeling miserable, desperately trying to get over everything that made me unhappy, wishing that I could grow up faster and praying for things to change. I made wishes that I would grow old and die before my time. All I wanted was the pain to stop.

Ernest is not an imaginary friend;
he is not a sound or a scene.

Hes in every little girls conscience;
hes a moment, a nightmare, a dream.

He cannot be described or forgotten,
he exists in any shape or form,

In a little girls memory as a demon.
No date to which he was born.

He may appear all tongue-tied and twisted;
he may appear merry or forlorn.

He may appear and rest on ones shoulders,
in the evening, afternoon or dawn.

He is neither man, beast or structure,
of heights impossible to impose.

In every little girls conscience, Ernest
preys where fear grows.

Perched on the slide in a play park,
on a swing or a sledge in the snow,

Why does he exist on such ruin? I would
beg him; take leave and let go.

But he who has no reason to comply for
he will gain no reward,

If only I could reason with Ernest, I would
have no fear at all.

Had it not been for the following people my story would not have been told.

My counsellor Clive Powell: I have so many things to thank you for it would take a whole book to list them all, many heartfelt thanks.

Many Thanks to Mike Powell from New Zealand for supplying the photograph of my beautiful daughter Cheniel for the front cover.

I would once again like to thank everyone at Grosvenor House Publishing For their speed when replying to my e-mails, for their patience when answering my questions and for their professionalism when piecing my second book together: many thanks to you all.

And finally to my children Ian, Cheniel, Kyle and Allishia who I want to thank from the bottom of my heart for being very patient and understanding. I know it has not been easy for you but still you have supported me. Thanks Kids you are an absolute treasure and I love you all.

A Small Part of my Life

Devastation

A Cry for Help

Against All Odds

Betrayed

Forever Running

Trying to Build a New Life

My Lifes Long Journey

Fighting a Losing Battle

Digging Myself a Deeper Hole

Hurt and Unprotected

Too Tired to Care

Kidnapped and Prepared to Die

A Place of Safety..?

On the Move Again

A Cry for the Victims

Once an Outsider, Always an Outsider

The Aftermath of Child Abuse

Ernest

A Reunion that was Long Overdue

The Decision to Put Things Right

A Childs Private Thoughts

Epilogue

Afterword

How am I supposed to write when my educational skills are so limited? I first asked myself this question when my counsellor, Clive Powell, challenged me into writing my first book Little Molly. Now I want to go on and write about all the people who have had a significant effect on my life, it seems even more difficult. I know the kind of things I want to say about the people I have met, but there before my eyes appears that same blank screen that has haunted me all of my life. I suppose in a way the kind of life that I have had makes writing about it a little more difficult, yet I hear a voice inside my head that cries out for me to do it, so I know the right words will come to mind eventually.

Rosemarie Smith

When I cast my mind back to the poor example of a childhood that I had, the first person who comes to mind is Tyrone. He has been at the back of my mind for thirty-five years and, for reasons I dont understand, he has remained within my thoughts since the first day I met him. I was almost ten years old when we met. I had been placed at the Outrake Childrens Home alongside my youngest sister, Lorraine, and my younger brother, Andrew, following the break-up of my family and our abandonment. I was totally devastated with the things that were going on around me and I was left severely traumatised. I seemed to blank situations that affected me personally and paid more attention to those who were kind to me.