I Did Tell, I Did: The true story of a little girl betrayed by Cassie Harte

By Cassie Harte

Cassie used to be slightly woman who desired to be enjoyed. Betrayed via her mom within the such a lot terrible demeanour, and abused by means of her ‘uncle’, she needed to struggle to outlive the demons of her prior. Cassie couldn’t bear in mind whilst the abuse all started, yet from an early age, she knew that her lifestyles used to be diversified from different young ones. Her mom made it transparent that she wasn’t sought after, she wasn’t enjoyed and He acknowledged that he was once her pal, that this was once his means of unveiling her that she used to be precise. without one else to show to, ultimately, she stumbled on the braveness to talk out, to inform her mom what he did to her. yet her mom wouldn’t hear, and with horror, Cassie was once to find precisely who her abuser was once, and why she could by no means be heard. I Did inform, I Did is the superb tale of a woman who was once betrayed through each person who must have enjoyed her, and the way she overcame the discomfort to discover happiness and love, and to profit the way to dwell together with her earlier.

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Extra resources for I Did Tell, I Did: The true story of a little girl betrayed by those who should have loved her

Sample text

Suddenly the living room door opened and Bill and my Mum appeared in the hall. They didn’t see me watching from above. ’ Bill asked her. ’ And then something happened that shattered my world. Mum leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. The man who had hurt me, her own little girl, so badly. ‘Of course I don’t believe her,’ she said. ‘She’s a liar. Perhaps you should stay away for a while until things cool down, and I’ll make sure she never says anything like this again. ’ I didn’t understand.

How can she be better than my other children? I’m not having her offered an opportunity that they never had. ’ Una tried to argue but Mum had made up her mind and that was that. I was bitterly disappointed. The thought of getting away from home, away from Mum’s anger, was like a dream to me—but it wasn’t to be. I would go to the local primary school where Tom was already a pupil and that was that. End of story. In fact, I went to three different schools at the age of five because we moved home twice that year.

The rest was for the housekeeping. We lived in a bungalow with a little garden out the back and a concrete patio. It wasn’t very big—there were only two bedrooms—and when I was little, all four of us kids top-andtailed in the one bed. Tom and I would have our heads at the bottom, while Ellen and Rosie’s heads were at the headboard, and Ellen used to read us bedtime stories every night. We kept our books under the bed. One night she asked for another book and I stretched my hand under the bed to get one and felt something tickly running over me.

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