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A Boy Called It
(david pelzer)

He did it again, constantly thumping me in my chest, glaring at me with his evil eyes,I tried to stop him but he carried on. I turned it over in my mind, over and over again. It was like he was controlling me.
When mother returned from work, I acted as if nothing happened, but inside I was bursting to tell her what a monster Malcolm is, to tell her what he had done to me. The only thing stopping me was the fact that my mother had been the happiest I have seen her with him, but deep inside I was hurting. Not because of what he had done to me but because I felt helpless and not even my own mother could release me from his tight clasp.

Last night I cried myself to sleep thinking what id done wrong to deserve this miserable, hurtful life. At the start he only did it once every so often but now its regular beatings. I feel trapped in a nightmare, hes the nightmare, him, the monster, Malcolm. Whenever im near him I feel like im constantly running from him, but I can never find anywhere to hide. Every corner I turn he is always there waiting for me.
I woke up and I could feel the cold draught coming from the slightly agar window, I thought to myself I have to get out of here, I need to get away from the misery im trapped in. I pull on my trousers, and I slowly moved towards the door. There was something holding me back, I turned back into the room and discovered whatever the monster did to me I couldn?t take it out on my mother. The only person who looked after me as a baby. That night I sat up and listened to the silence of the house and the ticking of the clock on my bedroom wall.
Mum had left for work by the time I got out of my bed. Thankfully malcom was in bed, but I didn?t know how much longer he was gonna stay there, so I took my chance. I managed to miss the creaking floorboards, and I headed for the unlocked door. As I opened the door, sunlight poored in and I heared the worst noise possible, malcoms voice. ?come here hunny, I have a present for you? his cold voice shouted from the top of the stairs. I slowly walk up the winding staircase it seams to go on for ever. As I reached the top, he was there glaring at me with his belt in one hand and a can in the other. I slowly make my way across the landing the floorboards creaking everytime I step. I can feel the sweat dripping of his greasy body.All the time I was wondering what he was going to do to me. I shudder at the thought. I felt like running, running far away but I knew better then to defie him. As I seen theshining metal in his hand my heart stopped , the blood drained from my face, he had a knife.I stopped

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