The tormented mind calls again

Sometimes, late at night when sleep is scare and the moon is high, I wonder why about certain things. So many hauntings of hidden abuse inside my head, its a wonder I didn't end up dead. Why did my mom never protect me? Why when I finally got the courage to ask for help from the depths of my personal hell, did I get beaten to an inch of my life instead? Her rage and hate kept me silent about what he did to me for years, convinved if I said anytihng I'd be beaten again. IF you tell, you'll be in trouble too. Words he always said my entire life, I never fully believed until that night. I didn't deserve that beating, to be scremaed at, and called a liar and a slut. Later, when she was done beating me, she called Jeff screaming on the phone. Mom threated him with a firing squad. I burst into tears thinking I'd be shot too. Why didn't she just dial 911? The cops would have come, the evidence was all over the house, from dirty clothes to bedding to my own body. All they would have had to do was check the closet. Find the little black box of his sick and twisted, preverted secrects. THe tapes and photographs He locked away in it. It took me too many years to figure out what that tricorder and camcorder was for, but now the memory of that little red light on the camcorder haunts me. How many VHS tapes from Jeff's private homemade child porn stash exists? Did he ever try making money selling any copies? How many other pedophiles have seen them? That throughts in my head sicken me. So many years of that camcorder set up beside the bed. So mamy lies of its off he put in my head. Now I know better instead. Instead of geting help, I was bloody, bruised and injured. My back pain to this day I trace back to that single beating. Sometiems I just want to ask my mother way. Why instead of protecting me, did she go insane and punish me so harshly for the abuse I endured, and never asked for or wanted to begin with? I was so young when it began, it took years to even realize it wasn't normal, and by then the gaslighting was deep inside of my head. Better to stay silent then wind up dead. Thats what her beating taught me instead. I never felt safe from that moment on. Why didn't she act to help me instead? She was an adult, I was just a tormented child, living in the hell of my father's sick perversion. Jeff doesn't deserve his freedom, he deserves to experience this hell. He's a pedophoile who abused me, my siblings, and who know how many other children he's had access to over the years. Sometimes I wish I could locate even one in tact VHS, send it to the cops, and watch his entire life burn. Why did I never sneak into his room, late at night, and take one single tape to the nice cop's house who lived by the school? I could have saved myself, my siblings, and who knows how many other little girls so much pain and abuse. Hindsight sadly is 20/20. I'd take a few months or years of humilation and shame at this point if it would put that man in prison, but I fear it may sadly be way too late to prove anything of the hell he put me through. It is doomed to live on forever deep in the back of my mind, one of the many demons roaring in my head. This guilt and self hate could eat me alive if I let it. The memories locked inside my head, no one deserves to live the life of slavery that I did. May one day he and all other pedophiles be found out and uncovered. there is no statue of limitations for childhood abuse anymore. Sometimes I wonder if I have enought evidience to press charges. I wish they could look inside my head and see the memories for themsevles. They would know the truth and could lock him up far away where he couldn't hurt anyone else. Why do these monsters rage so hard in my head?