My father was sometimes bad-tempered and we never knew why. He would get angry at the smallest thing.
My father doesn’t live with us anymore. My mother divorced him a couple of years ago. I remember how it was when they were still married. We had a lot of fun together. We did lots of stuff together, swimming or ice skating. I have a fond memory of those days.
Unfortunately it wasn’t always so happy at home. My father was sometimes bad-tempered and we never knew why. He would get angry at the smallest thing. He shouted at us and threw things. Once he almost hit my mother with an ashtray.
My father promised that it would never happen again. But he broke his promise.
Afterwards he said he was sorry. He bought mum flowers and took us out for an ice cream. He said he was edgy because he had a lot of stress at work. I didn’t understand. My mother also works hard and has a lot on her plate, but she doesn’t throw things.
My father promised that it would never happen again. But he broke his promise. It happened again and again. He always apologised afterwards but then got mad again.
When things got worse, my mother left him and we moved out. We lived for a while with a friend of my mothers. Then we found the apartment where we’re living now.
My father wanted to see us regularly. He said he was still my father. I was meant to visit him every second weekend. At first I didn’t know what I wanted. It was nice to see him, but I was always scared that he would flip out again.
My mother didn’t want me to visit him because she didn’t trust him anymore. So my father went to the Youth Welfare Service and then to court. In the end he won. So I started visiting him. The first couple of times it wasn’t so bad. Once we went to the zoo and then had chips. Once we went to see a cartoon, which was fun. Then suddenly it all changed.
I didn’t want to stay for the night and called my mother to pick me up.
My father had met Regine. At first he was completely smitten. He was always in a good mood. He was funny and did lots of crazy things. I liked this and began to get used to her.
And then, my father came back from the weekend shopping and suddenly flipped out without warning. He shouted at Regine and knocked over a glass. That reminded me of how it used to be, and I was really scared. I didn’t want to stay for the night and called my mother to pick me up.
The two had a huge argument at the door. He accused her of meddling and she said he hadn’t changed. Afterwards I didn’t want to visit him anymore. Before every visit I had stomach ache and couldn’t sleep properly the night before.
My mum asked her lawyer to go to the family court on our behalf. She wants to stop the visits to my father. And I don’t want to go anymore if he’s mean like he used to be. The court will check out what my mother and I have said and decide whether I still have to visit my father. I hope they believe us. The lawyer says I can rest assured that the court will always make sure that I’m OK.