the uncle who co-opted me, used me as a sacrificial pawn in his rotten games.

the uncle who pretended to be my father if his parenting never went further than the occasional Christmas or birthday gift, but I’m getting ahead of myself;

my fathers older brother noel, a womaniser, putting himself about, it was said there was the spitting image of his daughter Christine within the neighbourhood, plus others he refused to acknowledge.

I knew nothing of this as a child to find out later that after my mother ran away I stayed as a toddler for a while with Noel & his wife Irene, though she refused to let me stay in case I was noels son, the play on names: neil being noel.

instead I was placed in a children’s home.

joyce (my mother) had previous to me being born was fucking around, going out late, coming home early am drunk & unhappy.

my father believed I was his brother’s son, once hilariously declaring I had more hair on my chest than he did thereby proving the truth of paternity as noel was more hirsute than him.

the cruelty amongst this was in my tio noel living next to my grandmother, every time we visited her my father had to pass by his brother’s house the brother who had made him a cuckold-he it was acknowledged he had fucked joyce, even if he might/might not have been my biological father.

no dna test could ever prove this as noel & john being brothers had of course almost identical genes/ancestry.

so there you have it: an unfaithful wife a womanising brother & me a small child as an innocent plaything in stupid adult games.

left only to be a burden on people who did not want me: a mother, a father, an uncle who liked to fuck away from home & his wife who did not need an addition to her four kids already at home.

an uncle who pretending to be kind to me, just to be a sadist would rub his brothers nose in it & buy me an occasional gift for my birthday but otherwise be of no help in my raising.

I as a child had no understanding of any of this

then just to be a complete swine: when I was thirteen going through difficult emotional adolescent throes put me in touch with my biological mother-who he’d been in contact with all the time I was growing up but had never said a word to me about her.

I lost contact with him after I joined the navy, my grandmother died & I never visited that place again.

when he died I was not invited to his funeral or even informed he was unwell prior to that, I guess my usefulness had died in his sibling rivalry & his family were too embarrassed to acknowledge me.

this wet behind the ears fool of an innocent had moved on having learned only

from all of this to trust no one.

©neil benbow