Dear Minister,

My name is Peter. I would like you to take the time to read my story.
I am 14

I am writing this letter to you for some help. Because I have had enough. Enough of listening to my mother cry. Enough of no one listening to my brothers, little sister and I. Enough of the law and the law being unjust...Child representatives, family reporters, lawyers and judges all leave children to be abused so they can keep their filthy little jobs. To get the big pay packet they think they are entitled to.....who drives a new BMW, while I walk to school. And lives in a large house, while I live in a two bedroom unit because my mum has given her life savings and home to this professional lie and court system, to fight for the welfare of her children. How many lawyers work for free, work for the heart of it. Work to help the less fortunate

I woke up early on Christmas morning and saw my mum hiding down stairs, sitting on the floor in front of our Christmas tree crying. Her crying was not a cry from being physically hurt. It was not a cry of shallow breaths and higher pitched sob's that's caused by physical pain.
This cry came from deep in the stomach. The cry that starts from a hard ball choking in the throat. This cry was the deep breath that is heaved up with every sob from within the lower pits of the stomach, the lower sounds of this cry lets you know this cry is from a broken heart.
I sat on the top step and watched my mum with her head hung low. I watched as every sob she took her hunched over back would straighten a little, as the air was being forced through her mouth down into her lungs. I could hear her moaning breaths as she was trying to suck air in, while every heavy sob was forcing itself out .

While I watched my mum, my skin became cold and covered itself in bumps. Every muscle in my body started to ripple under my skin and tighten. I clenched my fits with every sob I heard coming from my mum. My head began spinning uncontrollably with my thoughts. My body began to warm, as my brain began to screamed with sharp pains piercing through it. My vision became blurry, my eye's began to sting. I squeezed my eye lids shut and felt the warm tears stream down my cheeks. The more my ears picked up my mums sobs, the more the feeling of hot anger swirled in my stomach and burned up through my chest. My thoughts possessed and controlled my body as if I where a puppet. My heart panicked and started to beat faster as it began to connect with my thoughts. My burning anger was swirling up like a wave as my thoughts slowed down and formed pictures. Pictures of my past memories flashed in my tightly shut eye lids like a scary movie, but I couldn't just turn this movie off. I couldn't stop the movie as my heart and body kept telling me it was not a movie, it was my life. I knew I had to escape these repetitive images, that was causing my chest to burn and forcing my body to behave as if I was under the influence of some drug. I quickly snuck myself back into my room and listened to my music. I attempted to direct my thoughts away from my mum weeping in despair, as I selfishly turned the music up to direct my thoughts to the blaring noise coming through my ear phones. Part of my anger is because my mother pretends her crying is about other things, or she will just make out she is not crying. However I couldn't shift my thoughts away from her.

I searched through my memories looking for season's why my mum should be crying in such dispar. My heart knows why my mum is crying in dispar. I am all of a sudden filled with guilt, when I realize why. .I have a great need to hug my mum and tell her that's she is appreciated. And I have the need to tell you all.

When I was younger, my father took off with us kids. Back at the time I never thought I'd see my mothers face. There isn't women alive that could take my mothers place. While I was forced to live at my fathers, I was suspended from school, to scared to go back to my fathers home, I was a fool playing with all the big boy's and breaking all the rules. Even though we had different daddy's I ve shred tears with my baby sister, over the years we have been beaten enough for little kids. When things went wrong my father always blamed my mother. I would worry about the stress I caused him
cause it was hell when my father would denigrate my mother. When I was living with my father I was only in elementary, I remember seeing my only future was in the penitentiary. One day I was running from the police and my mother caught me and gave me a whopping on my backside. I finally understand for a women it isn't easy trying to raise a man. My mothers always committed, a poor single mother on welfare, I wish she would tell me how she did it. There's no way I could ever pay her back, but my plan is to show her that I understand. There was no one to tell us it wasn't fair. There's no love from my daddy cause the coward doesn't care. I told my mum if he passed away I would care, my mum say's I am wrong and I am being heartless. But my anger wont let me feel for the beatings that my father gave us. all along I was looking for a father but he was gone. When I lived with my father I hung around thugs, even though they sold drugs they showed me and my brother love. I had to leave my fathers I can see my mum coming home late and trying to fix us a hot plate. Mum just keeps working with the scraps of life she's given. But now the roads gotten rough and she's all alone, trying to raise three bad boys on her own. Again I sit here and reminisce, and I know through this drama I can always depend on my mother. When it seems that I am hopeless she can always say the words that can get me back in focus. When I was sick as a little kid, to keep me happy there was no limit to the things she did. And all my younger childhood memoires are full of the sweet things she did for me. Even though at times I act crazy I gotta thank the lord that she made me. There are no words to express how I feel, mum never kept secrets, she always stayed real. I really appreciate the way she is raising me and all the extra love she has gave me. I wish I could take her pain away. When I tried to die, My Mother always said to me if I can make it through the night there's a brighter day, it will be all right if I hold on, it's is sometimes a struggle every day but I gotta role on.

I have to let you all know. These words that I have written are my life lived, but not forgotten, and not forgiven. There are court people who like to talk all this and that about my life. But it has gotten to the point that feelings have gotta get hurt and I have to get dirty with the court people spreading the dirt. I have tried to give warning but everyone ignores me, I ve told everyone loud and clear but no ones listening. I talked to them so clearly but no one wants to hear me. I ve got a heart full of pain and a head full of stress, handful of anger held in my chest. All this stress is giving me something to write on and all this pain has given me something to set my sights on. I will never forget the blood sweat and tears, the up hill struggle over years, the fearing, the trash talking and the people it was to, and the court people who started it.

My father loved the way I looked at him in fear, when he would bash me. My father always took pleasure in the awful things he put me through, he would tell me I could live with my mother only to laugh in my face when he changed his mind. My father always took away when I gave in. I would stay strong and disclose all the abuse to the family reporter, only to have my father lie about my disclosure. My life, my pride was broken.

I find judges decisions are not so clear. I wished I could have found away to make them live my hell. I found the truth made no difference, all my fathers lies made judges ignorant about my life.

Judges words made no sense to me, I still find it had to believe that my pain and torture was described as my father playing rough, my fathers cruelty is described as an over reaction on his part.

I wanted to know why I didn't have what is promised to me by the law, when I would get out of bed and put my feet on the floor to feel the pain shoot through my body, which reminded me of the beating the day before. Or when my father would hit me to the floor, and the rest of the day would stand still. I am trapped in these memoires and I am left in the wake of the mistakes made by my child representative, the lying family reporter , and everybody to slow to act.

I want to know the true instead of lies, I want to know why a family reporter is allowed to make up lies and destroy lives.

Another wave of tension is brought up by this family reporter , his reports have more than filled me up with tension, cause his written words are never true. My brothers and sister are unable to see our mother unless under supervision. Our mother is being blamed for making me run away. But I wanted to runaway from my fathers hell and never say goodbye.

I wanted to shut that door, and begin my life. Mr. family reporter what did you want from me. Did you want me to ignore my father walking up behind me and swinging at me. Did you want me to ignore my father when he would throw me against walls. Did you want me to hide my pride. Did you want me to give in to these bad dreams. Did you want me to give in to the maddening. Did you want me to trust no body and live a life of loneliness.

I made the right moves but I am still lost within. Mr. family reporter, reported that I was a suicide risk at my fathers home, but thought my fathers wish's of having me at his home was more important than my life. I want Mr. family reporter to know how I tried so hard, despite the way he way mocking my life, and letting my father treat me like I was his property. Things aren't the way they were before Mr. Family reporter, you wouldn't even recognize me anymore. I ve come so far since leaving my fathers. Mr. family reporter I put my trust in you, I have been pushed as far as I can go but there's only one thing you should know. There have been to many times held on at my fathers
when I should have runaway earlier.

There have been to many things you have lied about me. You and my father think having the upper hand means putting me down. So many kids like me put so much trust in all your lies. So concerned about what you think to just say what we feel inside. So many kids like me walk on egg shells all day long. So many kids like me just want to feel like they are not stepped on by people like you. So many kids can have a better past than mine, I hope you don't destroy theirs just to keep your pockets lined. So many things you say makes me feel you have crossed the line. I have had so many thoughts of how you have destroyed my family it's about all I can stand. I know I will never trust a single thing you say, you knew your lies would divide us but you lied anyway. And all your lies have got you floating above us all. But what goes up has got to fall.

My mother, brothers and sister are now serving a sentence for a crime they never committed. Mr. family reporter you know you have lied. You know all the pain I lived, but you hide it from the judges so you could keep my family on this sick merry go round for your wallet.

Because of this something has been taken from deep inside of me.

My family has a life forced upon them many will never see, wounds so deep they will never show and never go away. If I could change it I would. If I could take away all their pain I would. If I could retrace every wrong move I made I would, just to make it easier on my family. If I could stand up and take the blame I would. If I could take all the shame I would. Why can't the family court see it's so much easier to go and replace all this pain. Sometimes I remember all the darkness of my past, bringing back these memories I wish I didn't have. Sometimes I think of letting go and never looking back. And never moving forward so there never was a past.

My father would hold me up to a ceiling fan, while telling me he was going to cut my head off.
My father would hold me over a sink full of water and tell me he was going to drown me.
My father would lift me up from the floor and through me up against walls or throw me on furniture.
My father threw me up against a wall when I fell landing on our fish tank.
My father pokes us in the head and chest really hard when he gets mad at us.
My father made my brother put his finger in a rat trap, so he could get knew clothes.
My father often punch's us just for fun.
My father teases us and call's us names like your a girl or a bitch, if we cry about when he hurts us.
My father pull's our pants down in public and thinks it's funny.
My father teases us if we don't have or don't want a girl friend, he call's us gay or fucken fagots.
My father yell's and say's he will hit my little brother and sister when they cry for mum at night.
My father has burnt my younger brothers finger with a lighter, to teach him not to play with lighters.
My father's girlfriend will not feed us if we run away or try and run away to mum's. We have to go hungry.
My father's girlfriend will treat us mean if we talk about our mum.
My father's girlfriend will always tell us we are fuckheads just like our mum.
My father and his mother (grandma) get mad at us if we talk about what dad does to us.
My father gets mad and hits us if we ask to ring mum or see mum outside of contact time.
My father and his girlfriend swear and hung up on my mum when she calls to talk to us.
My father and his girlfriend cut up pictures of our mum in front of us.
My father or his girlfriend throw away pictures and drawings my baby brother does for my mum.
My fathers girlfriend scribble out my mum's name in our baby books and replaces it with her own.
My father hit our mum in front of us.
My father stole us from our mum, and never got into trouble.
My father drives us around like a crazy person if we are fighting in the car. We all go flying around the car.
My father has admitted all this to the family court reporter, but the family reporter states it was just a game or states it was just an overreaction on my fathers part.
My father has told the family reporter that my mum is a good mum. But he just doesn't want mum around in our lives anymore cause he has a new mum for us now.

I know you all think that my mum must be the most rotten mum in the world. Please believe me when I tell you she is a great mother, even my mates say I have a great mum. Even my mates feel comfortable talking to my mum about their problems. What is so confusing is that my mum is a leader at my Naval Cadet unit, so obversely one government department allows her to care and supervise other kids for long periods.

Even more surprisingly, through my mum's work, she has had more security checks than my father, and more working in child related checks than my father.(my father doesn't even hold any child related cards or approved checks, even if he tried he wouldn't be able to get one due to the police action against him for family violence)

.

HELLO !!! why cant this country see what this court system is really doing to us kids.
The new law is also a lie. 50/50 parenting is also just another attempt at making money. The professionals of the court know that by forcing children to stay at a fathers home who has abused them, will just force a mother to react. Resulting in lawyers fussing over irrelevant matters in the court to distract the judges from the real concerns which may quickly end the true nightmare for a child. The lawyers act like a bunch of seagulls at the beach hovering over your hot chips. But kids are not hot chips.

I have a voice of my own.
I am sick of being treated unfairly.
I want to take steps to protect my brothers and sister.
I am sick of my father thinking about himself and not us kids.
I am sick of being forced to hate my own mum.
I don't want kids holding on to hope through false laws.
I don't want kids to struggle with the past.
I don't want kids to suicide because of their fathers/mothers behavior.
I don't want sick freaks to profit from my, my brothers and sister sad life anymore.
I want my brothers and sister to feel safe and not live life being scared of what they do or say.
I want my brothers and sister to have their mum, not one my father decides just because he hates my mum now.
I want my brothers and sister to feel loved not owned.
I want to see my brothers and sister (cause I am not allowed just in case I encourage them to runaway from our fathers. Hey stupid court doesn't that show you my father is doing something. How could I encourage my brother and sister if I don't see them that often)
I don't want my brothers and sister to walk the wrong future path, because they so dishearten with their life.

Peter