Child abuse

hey contest lovers. Today I have decided to make a contest about child abuse. Child abuse is a very real and terrible thing in our world. It breaks my ehart to think about the poor children living in fear and pain.

So for this contest I want you to write a story about child abuse. Make it as sad and realistic as you like. If you can actually make me cry you will have a better chance of winning. *warning, I don't cry easily*

Rules:
NO EROTICA!
NO rape

Contest is Over

  • Contest was judged on March 20, 2008
  • Rewards: Gold: 100, Silver: 50, Bronze: 8
  • Final notes:
    First of all, sorry about how long this took me to judge. I have been swamped with school work. Second, this was a very ahrd contest to judge. Every entry was harsh and well written, it was so hard to decide. Thank you all for your powerful entries.

Contest Winners

  1. Bubble
    A girl is sheltered within an imaginary bubble,
    But the pain is all too real.
    by Viola.King 200 words, 4 comments, on Mar 5 10:32 AM 2008. In , Abuse, Family, Fiction, Life, Pain, Poetry, Sad, Third person
    Gold trophy winner
    • Commented on by judge. [remove]
  2. Error: Unable to find finalist item 143370, it seems to have been deleted :( [remove]
  3. Not her
    Melissa, sitting on the windowsill of her bedroom, stared apathetically out at the scene unfolding in front of her house. Her shoulders hun
    by Jinxgirl 4500 words, 14 comments, on Nov 22 9:56 PM 2004. In Depression
    Bronze trophy winner
    • Commented on by judge. Prewrite [remove]

Entries [4]

Add a comment

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Comments

1 - 8 of 8
  • tonyher
    March 2, 2008
    Edit | Reply
    I can understand you not wanting erotica., but most child abuse is rape. how can you write a story without it.

    • abba12
      March 2, 2008
      Edit | Reply
      very easily mate. you can explain what happened in a not so erotic sence. like, if he entered her, in erotica it would be glamourised, his hard member penetrated slowly, etc. but in a story about rape you can say she closed her eyes tightly and tried not to scream as he began his invasion, make sure to potray it as bad

      also, rape is a form of child abuse, but its not 'most'. sexual abuse is prominent, but physical and emotional abuse are just as prominent.


    • Elvenfairy
      March 3, 2008
      Edit | Reply
      well, for an example of how you can talk about the rape without detail is talk about the childs terror as he entered the room. Than just jump to after he has finished. I just REALLY don't want details of rape. If you want to give details of other plysical or verbal abuse fine, but I do not want details of rape.

      by the way, neglect is the most common type of child abuse, closly followed by out of control physical punishment. Rape is actually low on the list. According to my criminal justice class, in prison, if a person is sent there because they raped a child, the person usually has the cr*p beaten out of him constantly as punishment for commiting such a crime. Anyways, I am off topic, no, rape is not a very common form of child abuse, though the media certainly exposes it far more.


  • Dracoart99
    December 5, 2008
    Edit | Reply

    Child Abuse

    I have found this poem (NOte: IT AIN'T MINE !)
    My name is Chris
    I am three,
    My eyes are swollen
    I cannot see.

    I must be stupid
    I must be bad,
    What else could have made
    My daddy so mad?

    I wish I were better
    I wish I weren't ugly,
    Then maybe my mommy
    Would still want to hug me.


    I can't speak at all
    I can't do a wrong
    Or else I'm locked up
    All day long.

    When I'm awake
    I'm all alone
    The house is dark
    My folks aren't home

    When my mommy does come home
    I'll try and be nice,
    So maybe I'll just get
    One whipping tonight.

    I just heard a car
    My daddy is back
    From Charlie's bar.

    I hear him curse
    My name is called
    I press myself
    Against the wall

    I try to hide
    From his evil eyes
    I'm so afraid now
    I starting to cry

    He finds me weeping
    Calls me ugly words,
    He says its my fault
    He suffers at work.

    He slaps and hits me
    And yells at me more,
    I finally get free
    And run to the door

    He's already locked it
    And I start to bawl,
    He takes me and throws me
    Against the hard wall

    I fall to the floor
    With my bones nearly broken,
    And my daddy continues
    With more bad words spoken,

    "I'm sorry!" I scream
    But it's now much to late
    His face has been twisted
    Into an unimaginable shape

    The hurt and the pain
    Again and again
    O please God, have mercy!
    O please let it end!

    And he finally stops
    And heads for the door
    While I lay there motionless
    Brawled on the floor

    My name is Chris
    I am three,
    Tonight my daddy
    Murdered me

    And you can help
    Sickens me to the soul,
    And if you read this
    and don't pass it on
    I pray for your forgiveness
    Because you would have to be
    One heartless person
    To not be affected
    By this Poem
    And because you're affected,
    Do something about it!
    So all I ask you to do
    Is pass this on!
    IF YOU ARE AGAINST CHILD ABUSE!

    • Elvenfairy
      December 6, 2008
      Edit | Reply
      yes, I have seen that poem a million times over by now. It was all over allpoetry for quite a while, and still is.

    • Elvenfairy
      February 15
      Edit | Reply
      this was a good poem. I didn't find much emotion comming out of it, and I think that hurt you artistically, but it was still a poem worth reading.


  • serebear
    February 14
    Edit | Reply
    This is a Child Abuse poem I wrote, I know the contest is over from last year but please give me a chance and have a read.

    Its called: This Is How I Discovered My Real Self.

    I am but 9 years old,

    And I’m always at home alone,

    I don’t know where my Mummy or Daddy are,

    But I don’t like it when there home,

    They are always yelling at each other,

    And say nasty things,

    I cover up my ears,

    And pretend I don’t exist,

    Daddy says its all my fault they fight,

    I’m the cause of all there problems,

    And I should of never been born,

    In the first place,

    My Mummy tells me the opposite,

    And said I was a gift from god,

    Daddy just can’t see that,

    Because his going blind,

    His a sinner in all forms,

    Hiding and pretending to be something good,

    Sometimes I get so confused,

    When I’m trying to sleep in my bed at night,

    I can hear my Mummy cry,

    My Daddy’s yelling at her,

    He does that every night,

    Covering up my ears and pretending I’m not alive,

    Maybe if I wasn’t born,

    Mummy wouldn’t be so bruised in the mornings,

    And wouldn’t get yelled at by my father at night,

    I wish I could make it stop,

    I hate living in a house with no smiles,

    No laughter,

    Just tears and blood,

    I’m the devils child and I have to leave,

    I have to take all of this pressure off my family,

    If I’m the problem I’m going to leave,

    I know where Mummy stashes her medicine from the doctor,

    I sneak out of my room and into the bathroom,

    I stand of the little stool,

    And take the box out of the small cabinet,

    There are lots of things in there I’ve never seen,

    They have funny names written on them,

    Like “Low Beach”, the anti depressant pill,

    And some birth control pills,

    I’m going to take all of them,

    And try and not wake up again,

    I pressed the cap down and shook them all out,

    Swallowing them slowly,

    One by one,

    I feel fine,

    That’s take another one,

    I take the ones that says “Birth Control”,

    I plop them into my mouth and swallow it down hard,

    The taste was feral,

    But I still feel fine,

    There’s a bottle at the back of the cabinet,

    I’m going to drink that down,

    I stand on the stall once again,

    I reach towards the back and grab the bottle,

    I open the lid with ease,

    I put it to my lips and scull it all down,

    I’m starting to feel sick,

    I can’t see much anymore,

    Am I alright?,

    I’m starting to panic,

    Oh no, I can’t feel my arms,

    I just heard the smash of the medicine box hit the ground,

    I think I’m going to throw up,

    But I can’t tell,

    Everything is getting so dark,

    Can anybody out there help!,

    I can’t feel anything anymore,

    All I can see is the floor,

    I’m chocking and I don’t know why,

    Am I finally dying,

    Will this help my Mummy and Daddy stop fighting,

    Hi my names Lucy I am but 9,

    This is the night I learnt I am a sinner,

    The devil’s child,

    This is the night I destroyed myself,

    So my Daddy would stop treating my Mummy so bad.

    Hope you like it, sorry it's so long.

    Serebear.

    • Elvenfairy
      February 15
      Edit | Reply
      this was an ok poem. I didn't find much emotion comming out of it, and I think that hurt you artistically, but it was still a poem worth reading.

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