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MY CHILDHOOD TRAUMA
Last Updated : 2021-04-18
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This an autobiography of a man's childhood day, the horror and the dread that he went through, it also comprises of other happenings that made up his childhood day: both sad and happy moments.
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MY CHILDHOOD TRAUMA Chapter 3
That night, as I lied down, I had already concluded that the torment will surface shortly. But within me, I was going to use the my mother had told me earlier. The rain of fear had began to drench me.My eyes remained opened as I was trapped in between two brothers. I tried every possible means to close my eyes and sleep but; sleep was far from me. After a long time has gone into the night, I fell asleep. I had barely sleep an hour before I was awoken by a touch of a cold palm. I opened my to see who had touched me, lo and behold I saw a figure of a strange man touching me. I quickly closed my eyes in pretense, at this time I had forgotten completely if there was any name to use that will scare any creature away, when I felt that the hands have left me, I opened my eyes again but this time slowly, then I realised that there were two- two strange men-like figures, they were taller than the height of any man I had ever seen, another horror set into the corridors of my heart when I
Last Updated : 2021-04-18MY CHILDHOOD TRAUMA Chapter 2
I and my two brothers slept on the same bed. That night, sleep was out of view; it gave way for the spirit of torment to sit on me, I felt horrible and dreadful as fear had already taken a place within my bossom: at that time, I was late into the night, everyone was asleep except me, I lost my sleep after I had a nightmare- a nightmare that I can't overly explain, everything I saw was unclear to me: I saw something that looked like moving objects, accompanied by a sound of an old engine, that engine seemed to be planted within my soul.I could literally feel a force working hard to disintegrate my body, soul and spirit. I just felt that a force wanted to split me apart. At that moment, hell was loosed on me. I then noticed that I could barely breath. In that deadly mode, My eyes were opened. I could recall that it was as if I was been regulated by a switching force that moved me from one realm of reality to another interchangeably, I will see an unrecognised environment and just
Last Updated : 2021-04-18MY CHILDHOOD TRAUMA Chapter 1
Once upon a time, about three scores ago was my childhood day: a day of blissful pangs and pains; hisses from old ladies who should have praised me of my display of prowess; scolds and spanks from uncles who should have pecked me; warms from my mom's listless embraces which puts me on a pedestal of a brief relief. What about the returned of father from a long journey which threw us into biting hard and munching of an enormous bread? Or the unruly attitudes of me and my fellow black kid-friends of mine which got us kicked at our buts; hard knocks from passers-by which got us wailing home in panic. The peeping through the windows of the rich who lived in our neighborhood. The humming of religious songs passed down by ancient church folks in our old Methodist church; music of dirge from the black lips of those Africans who have lost behind the earth's surface love ones that they utmostly wish could abide. Or come to talk about countless venturing into the woods at the outskirts of Ogob
Last Updated : 2021-04-18
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Chapter 1
Once upon a time, about three scores ago was my childhood day: a day of blissful pangs and pains; hisses from old ladies who should have praised me of my display of prowess; scolds and spanks from uncles who should have pecked me; warms from my mom's listless embraces which puts me on a pedestal of a brief relief. What about the returned of father from a long journey which threw us into biting hard and munching of an enormous bread? Or the unruly attitudes of me and my fellow black kid-friends of mine which got us kicked at our buts; hard knocks from passers-by which got us wailing home in panic. The peeping through the windows of the rich who lived in our neighborhood. The humming of religious songs passed down by ancient church folks in our old Methodist church; music of dirge from the black lips of those Africans who have lost behind the earth's surface love ones that they utmostly wish could abide. Or come to talk about countless venturing into the woods at the outskirts of Ogob...
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