Chapter 3. The Final Goodbye

There are too many smacks, hits and hidings that I received and it would be impossible to count one that was acceptable. My parents finally divorced in 2008 and this became.... the.... best.... day.... of ...my ....life! I remember my aunty arriving in Timaru one day and we packed up and left. The night before I heard mum and Steve arguing and swearing but I didn't think they would actually split up. But Oh My Gosh this was a glorious day! I remember us driving off watching our once so called 'home' become smaller and further through the back windscreen. From that moment on I felt free, I felt safe and I was over ecstatic to be leaving Steve behind.

My last ever smack was in 2010 when I was 14. I still hadn’t been honest with my mum as I just wanted to forget everything and never see Steve again. Steve phoned and asked us to come for a holiday because he had decided to go to South America to fulfil his deluded dreams of becoming a rich gold miner. My mum was worried and said that it was only okay if I went as well because Steve didn’t feed the kids properly the last time they were there. My brother and sister begged and begged me to come because they really wanted to see their dad. My brother was 5 and my sister was 8 and they didn’t recall any scary side to Steve because he had never hit them. I gave in because it might have been the last time the kids could see their dad so I went with them to Timaru but this time he had sold the café and moved to even more of a rural area.

The holiday was meant to be 2 weeks long and by the third day, I was already sick of being there. Steve played games on his computer and watched action thriller movies during the day, he introduced us to his online girlfriend and would leave for hours and come back. He hardly spent time with the kids and for 4 days straight, we ate fish and chips, pies and fried food and the kids were getting stomachaches. On the fifth day, Steve bought hot chips and bread for lunch and then drove off. I threw the chips out and made the kids some soup and pasta with the limit of ingredients in the cupboards, but when Steve got back and saw what I did and that I had wasted food he hit me on the backside in front of the kids. I ran out the door with past thoughts thrashing around my head, I cried and trembled and became that little-frightened girl once again. I tried to find some reception with my block phone to call my mum but there was nothing so when Steve went to the paddock to feed the horses I ran inside and used the home phone to tell mum. Mum outraged, arrived a few hours later. While Steve was confused about why mum was there I grabbed the kids, my stuff and their stuff and got in the car. That was the final goodbye I gave my so called father.

I haven’t contacted Steve in over 7 years and I will never refer to him as dad again. Because of my past and the domestic violence I was subjected to inside my own home, it made me afraid of my own father but now as time has passed and I’ve become older, I’ve learnt that I have many loving family members on my side who are there to help and protect me. I opened up to my mum about what happened and she took it really hard, because I know she had no idea what was happening in her own home I feel that she finds it unbelievable and kind of hard to accept. My mum was a hardworking mum who provided for her family and the income needed of two parents. My mum had only just finished fighting cancer and she got straight back into work, working long hours and spending a great amount of the day working and working more.

My sister and I honestly hid this secret from my mum really well and since Steve would only ever raise his voice at us in front of mum and never put his hands on us, I definitely understand that it would be shocking and unbearable to hear. Now moving forward from these nightmares, I just really hope that my mum never ever thinks of blaming herself for anything that happened, because it was a choice made by one person and his choice alone to hurt me. Steve was meant to be a parent, his job was to be a good father and he made the decision to not be one. I will never acknowledge him as my dad ever again. I acknowledge he helped give life to my siblings and myself and that we carry the same blood but to have the privilege of being called 'dad' by me or my sister is something he does not have and never will.