The Finger of Blame

‘It’s my fault,’ Robbie told the policewoman earnestly. She looked like a nice lady who would understand.

Robbie was sat with the policewoman in the living room of his neighbour’s house. He could see the flashing of blue light up the gap between the curtain and the window. He could hear voices outside. And he knew it was all his fault. His mother had told him often enough it was because he didn’t do as he was told she got angry with his dad.

The policewoman looked at him. ‘Why do you think it’s your fault, young man?’ she said with a gentle smile.

‘I made a mess when having a bath. Mummy started swearing and shouting at me. She always does before they fight; you know.’

She looked at the boy sat on the couch with an air of maturity far beyond his years. ‘How old are you, Robbie?’

‘Seven and on quarter.’

She got out her notebook, ‘And how did you make such a mess in the bath, young man?’

‘I washed my hair and water spilt on the floor.’

The boy’s matter-of-fact manner was cute, and he wanted to be taken seriously, so she jotted his answer down. ‘And your mother got angry?’


‘What did she say?’

‘I’m not allowed to swear.’

‘I see, so she swore at you, what words did she say that weren’t swearing?’

‘Oh the usual thing.’

‘What is the usual thing, Robbie.’

He looked at her seriously. ‘I am a very naughty boy, and I do it on purpose to upset her and make her cross. She says I have always been bad to her crying and screaming and being bad to annoy her. She says I ruined her life the day I was born.’

‘Then what happens?’

‘She drinks her water from a green bottle.’

‘I see. And what does daddy do?’

‘When he gets home from work you mean?’

‘Yes, Robbie, when he gets home from work.’

‘Mummy shouts at him, sometimes she hits him and throws things at him.’

‘What happened tonight, Robbie?’
‘Mummy was shouting at daddy then there was a crash. Mummy swore a lot then went out. Daddy was on the floor his head bleeding.’

‘And you came here for help?’

‘Yes, it’s my fault and…’

The policewoman put her hand on Robbie’s arm ‘Robbie, none of this is your fault, you have done nothing wrong.’

‘I hurt my daddy because I am bad. Daddy wouldn’t get hurt if wasn’t here’

‘No, your mummy hurt your daddy, not you. Robbie, you got help, that’s doing a good thing.’

Robbie smiled, ‘I’m a good boy?’

‘Yes, yes you are.’


10 thoughts on “The Finger of Blame

  1. Thank for writing this story of domestic violence committed by a woman against her male partner.

    Feminists like to claim that women are always victins and men are always the victimiser.

    Fortunately studies conducted ever since the late 1970’s have consistently shown that both men and women commit domestic violence at a rate of nearly 50/50.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. The hard part is getting men in DV situations to come forward and get the help that is already there, so it looks like fewer men are the abused victim.

      Whatever way the violence goes to blame a child and make them carry that guilt – that is another abuse right there.


    2. In the past men who were abused by their wives were despised by society.

      Today if a man dares to report he is being abused by his female partner, he will soon find himself charged with DV and forced to attend classes, where he will be forced to admit that he is the abuser or face serious consequences.

      Liked by 1 person

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