Pain, suffering, hate, or fear. I never knew what was coming next. My nightmares are my reality. I live them. I try to forget them, but then they seem to get worse. I’m alone.
My mother can’t help me. I’ve never even seen pictures of her. I only know she died because of me. I understand we look alike, I wish I met her, just to know what it’s like to be loved or protected. Now I’m living her nightmares as well. My father told me often, that he made me for this reason. Why would a father do this? Do all fathers do this?
I’m only 13 years old, but there isn’t much I haven’t seen. I put on a mask to hide my fears, from school. But I’m alone at school as well. The kids tease me. My teacher thinks I’m this dirty little girl who has no pride in herself. But what does she know? Why can’t she see my pain?
I see her pulling away from me in class, when I need help with my work, not being able to handle the stench from my unwashed clothes. It hurts. But not as much as the beating I get at home. So here is safe for me I can handle the kids teasing me and my teacher not talking to me or keeping her distance because here, is stable. No beatings. No people touching me, and no pain.
I’m wearing the white dress I love to wear. I have no idea why I like wearing it, I just do. I feel pretty in it, but what do I know about being pretty or loved? I dream every day about someone loving me enough to take me away, but that’s a fairy tale.
Exiting my class, thoughts of tonight, go through my mind. My father is hosting another party. I feel a chill running down my spine, knowing again I will have to be on my best behavior. That means doing whatever is expected by my father and his so-called friends!
I pray every day that someone will see through the mask I put on and care enough to grab me, take me or report my father. Tears start to leak from my eyes because my time in this world is coming to an end.
Walking out the front gates of the school, I feel the wet drops of rain on my skin before I see them. It begins to pour heavily. I didn’t bring a jacket and I’m wearing my white dress again today. It’s linen and lace but before long, I’m drenched wet through to my core. Looking down at my dress I fold my arms tight around my body to hug myself, trying to get warm. I feel the temperature drop, being wet doesn’t help me to feel warm either. “Damn it! Now my dress won’t dry before I get home.” rolling my eyes,
“my father will love that,” I mutter with a shiver running down my back, and not just because I’m cold.
I start seeing flashes in my mind of what will happen tonight. I stop breathing as the memories consume me. The blood drains from my face as the realisation of my nightmares becoming my reality, is soon to happen again.
To take my mind to another place, I try to think about a way out. I try to calm myself by telling myself to breathe.
I push my thoughts to how I’ve been stealing money at the parties, and how sometimes some of the men give me money. Not sure why, maybe to make themselves feel better, they tell me to buy some clothes. I don’t though. I never have. I put it away, so when the day comes I can leave. But that’s just a dream. Because every time I try to leave, I feel paralysed! The fear of not getting away and the consequences if I’m caught. And if I get away what will happen to me? Where will I go?
Turning down my street I stick close to the trees, hoping no one will see me. I hear a loud familiar noise. Our truck, well my father’s truck coming up behind me. He honks once but I keep looking down. I can feel the goosebumps rising all over my body, sticking to my wet dress. My breathing picks up and I stop to try and stare at the clouds and the rain hoping to control it.
I can’t stop thinking about tonight and the horror of what the night will bring... I feel the bile rise in my throat, bending over I lean on the tree and vomit. Every ounce of liquid in my body comes up.
I feel the burn in the back of my throat as I wipe my mouth. I start to look up and pray to God no one saw me. Searching up and down the street there is no one in sight my father’s car must have already turned into our house. I’ll let the air in my lungs I’ve been holding out.
I start walking and feeling thankful no one saw my panic attack towards my house. Making sure I keep my breathing even.
I know he should be out of the car by now. He’s probably starting to get things ready for tonight. Again I start feeling light-headed and my palms are sweating.
I try to Concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. I wonder if he will drug me or make me drink so I’m more compliant and not cry. Maybe just force me, and beat me until I’m unconscious.
As I arrive at the house, I stare at the back of our old Ford F150 wondering if my time is up in this world.
When I walk in the front door, it’s silent. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I glance into the kitchen, which you can see from the front door, no one is there. Turning right, I go towards my room hoping he’s outback or dead. No such luck.
“If I can just get to my room, I might be okay,” I whisper to myself.
“What’s that little girl?” Frazer, my father spits at me with disgust as I enter my room. I stop in my tracks; my whole body alarmed just waiting for what’s next. My palms start to sweat, and I don’t know where to look. I can tell this is going to be bad, just by the sound of his voice. Everything he has ever done, flashes in my mind.
Before I get the chance to move, I feel the impact as I fall to the ground. He hits me from behind and I land on all fours. I try to scurry away just as I think I’m getting traction, I feel his callous hands grip around my ankle and he drags me backward. I scream as he spins me around, I land hard on the floor flat on my back. His black empty eyes stare down at me. He has no soul. He looks straight through me like I’m nothing.
I’m shaking so bad I just want this to stop. I try to look for an exit, but that was my mistake that’s when I feel the impact on my face before I realise that he has punched me. Then belts me into submission, and I have nowhere to go. I’m trying not to make any noise so my father will stop, sooner rather than later. But he’s too far gone now. Then pain erupts from my temple and I’m fighting to see anything, colour, and my feeling is gone too. Then everything is black.
I can hear noises in the distance, they start to get louder and louder. All of a sudden the noises become something I’ve heard before. The party has started. I search my mind for my last memory before I blacked out and just as I remember the impact from his hit my feeling comes back. I feel the weight on top of me and the smell of bad breath whooshes across my face making me feel nauseous. I can hear grunting. I try opening my eyes but it’s hard. Like there stuck shut or swollen. I try again and see through a blur a small gap. Men cheering and slapping each other on the back like there watching a sports game. There are 3 on my left near my shoulder.
I begin to feel pain everywhere. Then I feel a dead weight on top of me. It’s where the grunting was coming from. I try not to scream and vomit at the same time, it just makes it worse. My hands are tied together to the top of the table and so are my legs to each corner. My private parts are burning, and tears start to form in my eyes, but I know I can’t cry. I can’t react, because then Frazer will whip me, or worse he will kill me. I find a little piece of dirt that’s on the ceiling, so little I have to concentrate to see it and try not to think about what’s going on. Keeping my mind separate from my body making sure that it doesn’t move. Keeping my thoughts away from what’s happening is the only survival I can control right now.
The man on top of me disturbs my thought as I feel cool air over my body as he pulls away and gets up. I try to find that piece of dirt on the ceiling again because I know it’s time for the next one or maybe I’ve been out long enough that I’m done. Begging in my mind, please please be done.
I hear a deep voice I hate, horror creeps in and I start to panic. He comes here all the time for me, tells me as soon as I leave school, I’m his. I hate him, he beats me, rapes me viciously cuts me, leaves bruises on my thighs, boobs, and arms. As well as knife marks where no one can see them. I start to shake, I use everything I have not to shake, it only makes him more excited to hurt me.
Out of nowhere, there’s a big commotion out towards the front door, noises that make the earth shatter. I must be having a panic attack because I can’t breathe. But just before I fall back unconscious, everyone leaves the room leaving me naked, tied, and bloody.