Friday night again, the eve before the weekend, I must stock up again, before Saturday dawns....

I wait until everyone's asleep, before tip toeing to the kitchen, with a brown paper bag, I hastily fill it...But carefully does it so it doesn't go missing....

I take a handful of cornflakes, as much as a six year old's hand can, I place them carefully in my brown paper bag, the flakes stick to my tiny fingers and my hand...

A slice of bread I add, I break it in to pieces, and usually I add some raisins for their sweet taste, and finally some chewing gum, as it was my favorite and it seemed to last for ages...

I carefully tip toe back to my bed, happy with my haul, I add my only possessions, a finger puppet in the shape of a teddy, and a little shiny marble...

It's 8am, Saturday has dawned, My brown paper bag hidden in my pyjamas..with my usual look of sadness, always withdrawn and forlorn....

'It's time' my father beckons me, I get out of my bed, the set of draws, the fourth draw down is open, I climb in and lay myself down, the draw is pushed closed, darkness now falls...

'Not a sound from you, or any form of movement' my father tells me, as the sound of lock and key begins my weekend of solitude, fear, hunger and torment....

These were my weekends for all my childhood years, filled with silence, darkness and unmentionable fears....

And a man I became, with my own thoughts and beliefs, no more hurt, or spoilt weekends, no endless silence or grief...

My time now given to children, to those in similar suffering, a modern day rescuer, my life devoted to end all forms of hurt, and instead allow the childhood of today to be lived and enjoyed as it always should be....