Why I loved Grandma (standard:Creative non-fiction, 854 words)
Author: PeterFromOZ	Added: Jan 23 2006	Views/Reads: 7208/3116	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This is a story about a young boy (the author) dealing with the domestic abuse of his Grandmother by his Grandfather.

Prologue, 

On Christmas Eve, at around midnight til around 2 or 3am I felt inspired
to write a creative story, which is a true, non-fiction story, and is 
auto-biographical in nature. 

I have showed this story, up until now, to only a few people: my Rector
from my local Anglican Church, my very best friend Mr Tim C McCann 
(professional writer, with many honours, from The University of 
Canberra) and also to my Uncle Mr Gilbert Wahlquist. Gilbert seems to 
be 99% certain that the story is untrue, and suggested that I "change 
it's location" to Batemans Bay. Well, if I did that, Gil, I would be 
changing the facts, and I don't want to do that. 

I believe that writing of this 'story' was both cathartic & something
that I had need to say... probably since it happened. My memory of what 
had happened was repressed from a long time, but suddenly became 
crystal clear. One of the facts of which I am uncertain is my age when 
this happened. I think that I was only a young boy. It's also quite 
possible that my Uncle Gilbert was never told of this event happening. 
I remember that grandma was living in a two story building on the 
Sunshine Coast, Surfers Paradise, in Queensland, Australia. 

My Grandma was living there and my Granddad was still alive and visited
from time to time. Mum & I would visit Grandma from Canberra. 

---- 

Why I loved Grandma 

(or) 

Why Mum, Dad & Me hate violence and mum doesn't like arguments... and
also why we're sometimes afraid of the Dark... 

Be warned: this is not a nice story, but it's one that I feel needs to
be told. It does have a sort of happy ending, but it's not the full 
story. My mum and dad don't like to think about these things... they 
tell me that it's a dark secret that needs to be hidden away, and not 
talked about. Maybe mum thinks I've forgotten. 

Do you know what domestic violence is? I do! You see my Grandma and
Granddad were very decent people but they had a secret. When Granddad 
was away, Grandma used to like to sleep around with different men. When 
Granddad found out about it, he would get as mad as hell & drunk. He 
would tie Grandma up in human bondage and beat the living fuck out of 
her. 

I remember when I was only a small boy, maybe 8 or 10... (I'm not sure),
we; mum & me would visit Grandma where she lived in Surfers Paradise, 
Queensland. 

Grandma was an amazing soul, she loved to crochet, and knit and do
handicrafts and watercolour and oil paint and all sorts of stuff. She 
also drank and smoked too much. I loved her dearly. 

I remember one day (or was it night, I'm not sure), I heard a commotion;
bad sounds coming from my Grandparents room. Granddad left. Grandma was 
still in there. Carefully, I entered the room. 

To my shock I discovered Grandma tied up on her bed, in fucking heavy
bondage. She begged me to leave her. I asked her why, and she told me 
she HAD to stay like this. It was her punishment, and she must be 
punished. 

I told Grandma “no, I won't go.” Ever so gently I untied Grandma and
slowly released her from her human bondage, of ropes. Granddad used to 
be a fisherman; he knew all about ropes and knots. It was fucking 
tight. Slowly I released Grandma, and she was finally free. 

I gently rubbed creams and lotions into the rope burns. I kept doing
this until Grandma felt a little better. Then I helped Grandma into bed 
and covered her with a doona. 

I told mum and she called a doctor. 


Click here to read the rest of this story (30 more lines)