Olya Mancuso - Dared To Survive

«Scream so everyone could laugh at you!» she continued.

I kept silent, still biting my lips and wiggling like a worm under her massive body. She had me pinned against her to keep me still while she struck me with the belt.

I felt no air circulating. The pressure was unbearable. I was in an agony of pain. I couldn’t stand it another instant. Suddenly, I let go the scream of pain. It came from the depths of my soul. I sounded like a wild animal, dying in the agony of pain…

That night Dad did not come home. Mother whipped me brutally with the plug from the stereo. After the punishment, I went to bed, praying that it was over and the night would hide me from my mother. Darkness was my shelter.

In bed, I could not find myself a comfortable spot. My whole body was aching, burning, and stinging. I closed my eyes praying God would hear my pain and end my life.

Could He really hear me «the child from hell»? The «monster child» whom my mother said deserved this life? Could He really hear my suffering??

Suddenly, I thought to myself: How lucky am I now? I am still alive and in bed. I felt relieved that the punishment was over.

«Thanks, God,» I said. Today is one day less for me to live on this planet , I thought. Today is over.

In my cold and dark room, I cried silently, making sure no sobbing or sounds came out…

Mother suddenly opened the door and jumped on my bed, grabbed me by the hair and slapped me across the face with indescribable strength… It was not over. My relief had been premature.

The blood gushed from my mouth as well as from my nose.

«Listen you,» she hissed. «You have made my life a living hell,» she sneered. «You are making me suffer. Now, it is my turn to show you what hell is like.»

Mother dragged me to the bathroom by my hair. «Spiders and rats are here,» mother indicated. «So, stay here with them till the morning. No light. Understood?» she threatened «This will teach you a lesson to take care of your toys.

«It’s too bad,» my mother grimaced, «your drunken old fool of a father is not here to help you.» She laughed. «And guess what? He does not give a fuck. If he did, he would be here to save you.»

With that, she shut off the lights and slammed the door. Inky darkness descended.

«It’s too dark,» I protested… «I am petrified!» I cried.

«Well get used to it. This is what your life will always be like,» my mother yelled through the door. «Dark and gloomy. You deserve it. Your life will be a long dark road of hell and torment. Nobody who will save you. No one wants you. You turn people off. You are less than a worm. You are IT, the child from Hell. The daughter of the Devil. You are possessed by Satan. I am an unfortunate mother. God punished me with a child like you. What have I done to deserve you?» My mother started to cry….

«Do not think you can escape me? I wish someone would take you off my shoulders… But nobody will ever even marry you, you dirty SHIT… It means I am stuck with YOU forever. YOU DON’T deserve anything good children have. Can you hear me??? Repeat this!» she ordered.

«Yes, mother!» I cried. «I deserve this. I am the child from hell, the child from the Devil. Nobody can LOVE me. I will stay here and learn my lesson…»

«Good,» my mother replied, «THEN LEARN! We will repeat the punishment tomorrow.» She left the bathroom door locked.

I was all alone in the darkness. I was so scared. «Please God, dear God, please,» I cried on my knees on the cold floor in the bathroom. «Why can’t you take me away or kill me or do something to end my suffering?» I begged.

«What have I, a child, done to you that You gave me this kind of life?

What have I done, God?» I pleaded, sobbing.

I banged my fists on the door, trying to break it down. But it was too strong. I could not break it.

Amid my sobs, I heard mother’s laugh echoing from far away. «Suffer, you little shit, DIE if you want. Just let my life be. Set me free,» mother kept on yelling form the corridor.

«Do you want me to give you a knife?» Mother asked behind the locked door

«What for?» I cried.

«To kill yourself, you dumb bitch. Cut your wrists,» mother suggested.

I dropped my exhausted body on the floor, shaking and trembling with fear. I cried and cried. But she didn’t care.

«You don’t deserve to live,» she jeered. «Life is only for good kids who deserve it.»

When Dad came home, I was rescued. He put me in bed, kissed me and told me he loved me. I saw the tears in his eyes. For a moment, I thought how lucky I was. But, I could not sleep. The punishment was all over for the night. My whole body was aching from being beaten. My father was there. But the next day he’d be gone and there would be no one to protect me from my mother’s beatings.

I could hear Dad fighting with mother. He threatened to break her arms if she touched me again. I was not heartened. You see: Dad made these same threats every single time mother punished me. But mother never took them seriously. Dad was always trying to stop mother from punishing me and every day he was saying the same thing all over again. He threatened to put her in hospital. My Dad always pleaded mother to treat me better. He begged her to stop beating me. But unfortunately, his efforts only made things worse for me the next day when he was at work.

Every effort Dad made to help me always led to a grandiose argument between mother and him. They ended up breaking dishes. Then, mother physically abused Dad. He had no choice but to slap her across the face or push her hard. Mother called this PHYSICAL ASSAULT.

She ran out on the balcony and yelled to attract neighbours, «Somebody help!» she cried. «Save my life. My husband is killing me.»

Her goal was to ridicule and get revenge on my Dad for «interfering» in her child-rearing practices.

One-night, Dad tried to get mother to change her mind about the methods of her child rearing practices by making «deals» with her. He tried to bribe her with promises such as holidays, more money for Zhenya.

But all his attempts were useless. Mother was as solid as rock. She kept on singing sarcastically: «You can kiss my ass, you old fucking fool,» she jeered. «The child is your ugly mini version. Two fucking monsters. You are nothing but pathetic shits. I am too strong to defeat. I am too strong to convince. I am a rock. I am iron. We Russian women never give up… None of you are worth dirt.»

She kept on singing the put downs over his voice ignoring his pleas about me. I know he was trying his best to improve my life at home. But, if anything, his interfering always made it worse for me the next day when he left to work. After that, I always had to pay the price for «making parents fight against each other and poisoning their relationship.»

My mother never lost a fight. She would never give in to Dad’s pleas to stop punishing me. Every night, they’d fight about the same issue «ME or my brother Zhenya. Every time, mother won the fight. They fought whenever they were together.

My Dad accused my mother of exhausting their finances by letting Zhenya have everything he wanted, by paying out his debts to people to stop them from reporting him to the police. Dad said mother did not leave any money to feed us because she spent everything on my brother and his desires.

My brother didn’t want to work. He never worried about money. He has always lived off my parents’ money avoiding terrific jobs. He spent years conning people who came to our house to demand their money. They threatened to go to police if we didn’t pay. Mother always paid them out to keep Zhenya away from jail.

Zhenya refused to take any job that he considers beneath him. He had no interest in becoming financially independent. He believed every job was beneath him.