Of my mother being hit around as a punch bag to ease the pain in a man she calls her husband and I father.
The sound of anguish that leaves a bitter taste in my memories of the only person I recall with some amusement.
Screams of not pain but sounds better not explain to a young child.
Sounds you dont understand until you grow up and "life" gets explain in all its details to you by your elderly sisters.
Screams of all the animals my parents kept around,either dogs or cats to the living stock whe grew for a relative(our landlady),pigs,chickens,picheons,and if I remenber correctly at one point rabits.
Did I forget to mention we also grew banana trees?
The open space with only two other neighbours would explain the why my father got away with domestic violence for so long.
Screams are a big part of what I prefer not to remenber...