I sometimes feel as though I have missed out on my teenage years because I wasn't like my friends going out to parties and having boyfriends. It was tough trying to build up the courage to ask for permission to got the annual school disco and knowing my dad would probably say no. Then all my friends would ask why I wasn't going and I would make some excuse which they clearly didn't believe, some of them thought I was weird and called me a daddies girl, if only they knew the truth. When I really nice boy asked me out I had to say no or only see him at school which most boys didn't want so I lost out on many friendships both male and female.

I went from a nice, friendly, outgoing child who loved school and worked hard into a horrible little monster who played up in class and hit out at other children, I bullied the bullies who picked on younger or more vulnerable children, I hated the fact they were taking advantage and using their power to get their own way pretty much the same as my dada with me at home. I was far too afraid to stand up to him but at school I wasn't afraid and constantly got into trouble because of it. I was lucky that my headmaster was a really nice man and he seemed to actually like me in spite of my bad behaviour.

These days I like to think that if a child like me changed so drastically in such a short space of time someone would pick up on it and try to find out why but back then most teachers just saw as a trouble maker. I was desperate for someone to sit and talk to me, so I could explain why I was behaving so badly, I just wanted someone to listen to me and be on my side, needed to know I wasn't in the wrong and it wasn't my fault, wanted to shout 'do you have any idea what I am going through and why I am like this'.

Instead I kept quiet and took my punishment at school, laughing on the outside but slowly dying inside, screaming to go back to the good old days when I was ignored at home, at least I could cope with that.

I almost told one of my teachers one day, I had been in trouble again, another fight with another pupil, I hated myself so much but just couldn't seem to stop myself, I really wanted to be a good person and work hard at my studies. Anyway I was sent out of class and another teacher was called to deal with me, as I sat in the cloakroom looking up the ceiling and trying not to cry, my stubborn streak kicking in, he asked me why I did all the things. I started to talk to him; I told him there were things he didn't know about me, I was sorry I was always in trouble, he said I was getting something of a reputation for my behaviour and that wasn't good, he said he had always liked me and why didn't I play up his class why was it only with certain teachers. As I sat there listening to him and wondering how I could explain I had this awful vision of my parents being called into school and my headmaster calling in a social worker. I was so worried no would believe my story then things would be even worse at home because I had told someone about the abuse. Or worse case scenario would be that I was taken into care and separated from my beloved sisters and then might have to go through the ordeal I had been going through for the last two years. I couldn't do that, I had to protect them at all cost, even if it meant sacrificing myself.

Again I kept quiet. How many times has this happened to others, unless we find the courage to speak out we will never escape our confines and start to build our lives for the better. Life is for living not hiding away in a corner and hoping we can be invisible, lets make a start together now, get out the telephone book and look up counselling, make that call, start your life today.