The monster was real
When her mum was out of the house, Daisy Alden-salter, 21, was dragged into the bedroom by her sick stepdad…
He took me to Mum’s bed
Skipping up the drive to my grandma’s house, I shrieked with joy as I saw her coming to the door. ‘Hello my darling!’ she cooed, ruffling my hair.
My parents had split when I was very young, so I would often go to stay with Dad and Gran on the weekend.
Sometimes Dad would be away working, but I loved seeing Gran.
We’d make cakes, play games and go to the park.
She’d show me how to do arts and crafts and would give me endless streams of pens and papers to practise my drawing.
I’d often cry on Sundays when it came time to leave.
I loved my mum, but her house was always a more hectic environment and I really craved stability.
My mum had a new boyfriend, Andrew.
They had a bit of a whirlwind romance and things were often volatile at home.
One minute they’d be fine, but the next he’d get moody, and even aged three, I was wary of him.
‘Daisy would you mind just popping up to your room for a while?’ Mum would ask, trying to keep her voice steady.
And before I’d even reached the landing, the shouting would start.
Soon there would be banging and crashing, too.
Andrew had a loud booming voice and as time went on, Mum would argue back less and less.
I’d hide under my bed, trying to block out the noise. I was just five-years-old when Andrew took me by the hand and told me to come upstairs with him when Mum was out. In the bedroom he shared with Mum, he undressed me and told me to lie on the bed. Then he started touching me. When it was over, he made me get dressed again. It was the start of it happening again and again. Most often I remember him forcing himself on me and making me receive oral sex from him on Mum’s bed. Uncomfortable, I tried to struggle and get away, but he’d press me back down. ‘Behave yourself or you’ll be in big trouble,’ he’d snap. All I knew was that whatever he was doing, I really didn’t like it, but I didn’t want to make him angry with me.
I blocked out a lot of the details of the abuse, but I know that for a period of time, he took advantage of me nearly every time Mum was out of the house.
Going to Dad and Gran’s was my only relief.
Soon, I began to have dreadful nightmares on a nightly basis.
It was always a similar theme: there’d be a big, bad monster following me – hunting me down, and I couldn’t escape.
Usually I’d wake up just before the creature caught me and run out of my room in pure terror.
Mum would calm me down eventually, but the sheer strength of my fear worried my family.
Gran was so concerned about me, but when she asked me, I didn’t have the strength to confess.
Andrew’s rows with Mum were getting worse and worse, too.
There would be a shouting match every night. ‘Don’t ever tell me what to do, woman!’ he screamed at her one night.
I was terrified and just wanted it all to stop.
One day, when I was about seven, I went to stay with Dad and Gran, and never went home.
Even when Mum and Andrew split up soon after, I stayed there. I was so happy. I gradually got into a routine and school and my home life became a lot more settled.
My mum had always done her best, but she’d struggled, especially under Andrew’s influence. At Dad’s it was much more structured and I began to forget about the trauma I’d been through.
I still saw Mum every so often and she seemed to be OK. My
grandma was always so supportive and motherly, it was nice to have that consistent figure in my life. ‘Oh, another A in English! And art! My clever girl!’ she’d say after reading my latest school report.
‘I’ll make you your favourite dinner to celebrate.’
But as much love as I was being given, as I grew into my teens, life began to unravel.
I was hanging around with a dodgy crowd at school.
We would often hang around drinking in parks after school and at the weekends.
‘I’m just going shopping with Lauren!’ I’d shout out, lying through my teeth, before my grandma had a chance to stop me leaving the house.
She’d wait up for me, fretting all night, but I didn’t care.
I was also beginning to experiment with boys, but I always had a niggling feeling that something wasn’t right.
It couldn’t put my finger on it, but I just knew that something felt wrong and dirty.
It was around this time that I began to have flashbacks to what Andrew had done to me.
It was hazy at first, but the more I began to think back, the more the memories crystallised in my mind.
I began to get bad anxiety and was quite depressed. I felt helpless and alone. I knew that I needed to talk to someone, so one day after school, when my best mate and I were waiting for our Pop Tarts to spring up from the toaster, I tried to explain to her what Andrew had done to me.
‘So, you know I’ve always been weird around boys…’ I began unsteadily.
After I was finished talking she gave me a long hug.
I felt relieved that I’d told someone and that I was believed.
A small weight was lifted off my shoulders, although the pain from what he had done to me was never far away.
I met my boyfriend George a little while after and his sweet nature made me instantly trust him. We’ve been together ever since. After a few months, I confided in him, too, and it felt amazing to be able to share my darkest secrets with the person I loved the most.
I was also finally able to be intimate without feeling dirty or seedy. George was always so gentle and never rushed me into anything. A few weeks after my 18th birthday, George and I had just got back from a little mini break in France when I found an official looking letter on the mat. ‘God this looks serious!’ I said, waving the letter at George with a nervous giggle. Sitting myself down with a cuppa, I cracked open the envelope… It was from the police and it was in connection with Andrew Williams. They wanted to speak to me in connection with some allegations that had been made against him. The letter was very vague, but I had a pretty good idea what these allegations might be. I felt a sudden stabbing pain of guilt at the thought that other girls out there had been through the same thing I had. The next day I called the police to find out more details and they came round to my house that same evening to speak with me. It turned out that other girls had come forward, too, and the police were building a case against Andrew. They told me that Gran had contacted them years back with concerns about Andrew and they’d found the complaint on file. They thought I might be able to help them. ‘Yes he abused me,’ I said, before I could change my mind. I explained everything he had done to me. It was hard to say, but I knew it was for the best. I got a call the next day to say that they were reopening my case. In the meantime I had to sit my family down and have a chat with them to tell them all about what was going on.
It was really hard explaining what had happened to me, especially to my dad.
Everyone was shocked, even though they’d had their suspicions.
‘I’m so sorry darling,’ Mum said through her tears. ‘I wish I had done more to protect you.’
I wrapped my arms around her. ‘It’s ok,’ I insisted. ‘You didn’t know.’ A few weeks later, Andrew Williams, 50, appeared at Luton Crown Court and admitted 20 counts of sexual offences relating to me and four other victims.
The court heard we were all aged between four and 10 years old when he’d abused us.
I felt sick hearing he’d raped one of the girls.
He was jailed for 18 years and put on the sex offenders register for life.
It was just a relief to know that he was locked up and that justice had been done.
I still have anxiety, but with help from medical professionals and support from family, and George, it’s getting a lot better.
The nightmares haven’t stopped, and I don’t think they ever will, but they seem to be a lot less frequent these days.
I am planning to go to university to study illustration, something that I never thought possible just a few years ago.
It feels great to have closure from what Andrew did to me.
I’ll never forget it, but I am moving on.
And I hope that speaking out will give others the courage to come forward and get their justice, too.
Then they can start to heal like I am now.
The pain never went away