Childhood Dreams

A strong gusting southerly wind whipped and whistled through ancient trees anchored on a seven-acre property nestled in a country township in Australia. A little boy, aged five, stood on the back porch of his family home. He was dressed like an urchin with dirt smeared across his face and shirt. Yet, this little boy was strong, he possessed the heart of a true warrior.

His destiny was whispered in haunting tones that arose within the symphony of the whistling wind. But he didn't hear the melody, the symphony's call. His mind was preoccupied with other things. A small container of food and water was added to his backpack. The food and water contained the nourishment he needed for his body but not for his soul. The little warrior slipped into his sneakers and stepped off the porch to begin his daily trek.

Tiny fingers gently brushed over tall golden blades of grass burnt dark gold in the scorching sun. To his delight they were dancing and swaying in the breeze. No one was taking care of this little boy. He swirled around with wild abandonment as magic filled the air. This was the kind of magic that only little boys can only hear when they feel disconnected from love.

To discover and explore the majesty of the land was his life purpose and the secrets it contained filled his world with wonderment and joy. He loved his daily walks with Sam, his beloved dog and trusted companion. These treks were also his saving grace. The land contained majestic hay castles and playgrounds that encouraged him to explore. Without knowing how or why, he knew he was protected from the numerous dangers in nature that roamed around him. But he felt so terribly frightened and alone regarding the uncertainties of life.

Five years passed. Today was a special day. Or, it should have been. Looking into the dark pool of the mirror's reflection, he saw a stranger staring back. Luminous dark chocolate eyes peered from beneath silky black eyelashes. Black curly hair framed a beautiful face. His family members had declared, on previous occasions, that he was much too pretty to be a boy. Today was his tenth birthday. But he didn't feel much like celebrating. He wasn't sure if anyone would remember or care anyway. After a quick wash, he ventured downstairs for breakfast. There was no one to greet him, just the empty stillness that he had become accustomed to. He found no birthday present or card, nor cake with candles to commemorate his special day. He preferred to be alone anyway.

He grabbed an apple from the bowl on the table as he made his way outside and whistled for Sam. The back door closed with a loud bang behind him. He ran wildly into the forest, his mind racing. This little boy carried a secret. A terrible secret that would accompany him from childhood into adulthood. Red hot anger seethed deep inside him, chipping away at his innocence one betrayal at a time. But he was strong, he possessed the heart of a true warrior.

Mental, emotional, physical and sexual abuse was an integral part of this boy's life. It lay hidden, secretly festering behind closed doors. It was never discussed, acknowledged or healed. How can anyone heal what they don't understand? This boy was unable to ascertain which part of the torture he loathed the most. Whether it was the beatings carried out by his step-father or the betrayal of sexual abuse he endured from his mother and the innocence that was stolen. So often he lay awake at night pondering his life and why the people he trusted the most were hurting him. "Why isn't anyone looking after me? I'm a child, why do I need to endure this shocking life?" In the deep silence of a child's pain-filled heart, no answers came to mind as he succumbed again to a restless sleep in another seemingly endless pitch-black night.

Anger, self-loathing, fear, resentment and rage bore into John's heart. He had endured the roundabout of endless suffering during childhood and had reached adulthood by default. This was how it seemed to him. Perhaps it was sheer luck or extreme determination to beat the odds. But the abuse had left deep unhealed scars, battle wounds that wearied his soul. John didn't want to, but he knew that it was time to be honest. Earlier in the day, he had opened the locked draw and retrieved the journal he had kept secretly hidden away. Reading it didn't give him peace or solace but he knew what he needed to do. John was in love with his best friend Tala and he knew that it was time to tell her the truth.