A Child Called "It" by Dave Pelzer

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A Child Called “It”

English Bio II                                                             by Dave Pelzer

A Child Called “It” is a first-person narrative of a severely abused child, Dave Pelzer, who has survived to tell his tale. This book is a brief, horrifying account of the bizarre tortures Dave’s mother inflicted on him, told from his point of view as a young boy. Among the cruel “games” Dave’s maniac, alcoholic mother played were smashing him face-first into mirrors, forcing him to eat the contents of his baby brother’s diaper, drinking ammonia, and burning him over a gas stove.

Dave’s “story has two objectives: the first is to inform the reader how a loving, caring parent can change to a cold, abusive monster venting frustrations on a helpless child; the second is the eventual survival and triumph of the human spirit over seemingly insurmountable odds” (164).

Dave describes his earlier years as idyllic: “In the years before I was abused, my family was the “Brady Brunch” of the 1960s. My two brothers and I were blessed with the perfect parents. Our every whim was fulfilled with love and care” (17). His mother’s behavior began to change drastically and Dave and his brothers had become afraid of her. Eventually, Dave was singled out for such vicious treatment. His mother made sure he knew that there’s nothing he can do to impress her. She told him, “you are a nobody! An It! You are nonexistent! You are a bastard child! I hate you and I wish you were dead! Dead!” (140)
        School held no appeal to Dave either: “At school I was a total outcast. I had no one to talk to or play with. I felt all alone” (58). Since his mother rarely gave him the luxury of eating food, Dave resorted to stealing from his classmates’ lunch pails. The teachers and principal knew and carefully watched him.

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Oddly, his father never intervened. His attempts to talk to his wife about Dave failed, and only worsened the abuse. This caused Dave to hate his father: “he was fully aware of the hell I lived in, but he lacked the courage to rescue me as he had promised so many times in the past” (134).

As the beatings and the torture continued, Dave began to give up: “With no dreams, I found that words like hope and faith were only letters, randomly put together into something meaningless-words only for fairy tales” (132). “Inside, my soul became so cold ...

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