The father of my little siblings beat my mother. I didn't live with her full time as I had been removed as a baby due to her mental health problems (had me unrestrained in the back seat of a car at 5 months old, while driving recklessly down the motorway etc ), but I visited.
The worst memory I have is of my mum holding our baby sister, and him pointing a rifle at her and threatening to shoot her. We were in the living room, me and my brother on the sofa and they were right in front of us. I remember just going so cold and still, and - the only word that can really describe it - petrified. It was such a raw fear. I was the eldest, I believe only in Year 2 or 3. He got pissed off with her and shot a pellet but missed her on purpose. That's when I told my little brother to come with me upstairs. He shouted "where the fuck are they going" etc, probably thought we were going for help, but mum said we were just going upstairs to play, and he dropped it, and we did go and play. I switched the Nintendo 64 on and played Mario with my little brother until everything calmed down downstairs. We found the pellet in a hold on the same sofa we had been sitting on. Mum denies he ever shot a pellet. Look, I know it's not a "real gun" but when you're that young it's terrifying.
I have many memories of being awoken at night with my brother (we slept in double bed together) by my mum and him fighting, loads of screaming and swearing. Sometimes I would sneak down and sit on the stairs where I could see through to the living room (part of it anyway), and I would see furniture being thrown.
One time, I was so sick of me and my brother being scared upstairs, listening through the floorboards, that I told my brother to stay upstairs while I went to ask them to stop. I mustered up the courage and opened the living room door. They were at opposite ends of the room, I jumped between them and shouted at them to please just stop it! He threw a glass on the floor and told me to fuck off. I ran to my mum crying and just layed in her lap hugging her while he raged on. That is the only memory I have of ever being hugged by my mum.
My grandmother told me that they would get calls from the neighbours saying "you better get round to your daughter's house as it's all kicking off again and I can hear those kids crying and crying and shouting for their mum", so many times...
We were all in the car together, all 3 kids in the back. He was pissed about something and was driving us around this field, swerving so fast and hard we were tilting onto two wheels. I thought I would die. I remember asking him to stop and he laughed and said it helped the little one to sleep.
Much of it I can't remember as I was too young, I was damaged way before I developed memories. And much more I won't tell as this is getting so long. When still slept in a cot, my grandmother has told me how I would cry at the sound of loud men's voiced or rowdy drunks going past the window at night. I was very clingy as a toddler and wet myself until quite late. Had a dummy at bedtime way into primary school etc.
Social services tried to place me back with my mum many times but her relationship with him stopped it. It wasn't safe etc.
He was arrested for attempted murder of my mother eventually, but got off on a lesser charge. I was so happy that we were all finally rid of his poison. I had my mum back and now she could put us first. She had to go into a refuge and move address so when he was released he wouldn't be able to find her.
When vising her, when in the car on the way there to her new house, my little brother or sister (can't remember which) let slip something that basically meant they were all still in contact with him (he had now been released). She was seeing him again!! I was only 10 or 11 at this point, and when we got to her new house, me and my mum had such a huge argument that it ended up with her throwing me on the sofa and me trying to kick her and crying my eyes out.
I've never forgiven her. She eventually did finally get rid of him but I cannot forgive either of them. Him, for what he did, and her, for not being a mother, for not loving her kids enough. For not loving me enough. I wish her nothing but pain in her life, and she knows it. If I ever saw her again, I would punch her in the face repeatedly. I hope she suffers and I wish I could witness her being beat all over again so I could fucking laugh at her.