My screams fell upon deaf ears within a house full of people as his touch burned my whole body. i questioned my existence, my life, my future everyday that i was forced to serve him. i wondered how parental love could be so excruciating...why would my mother not help when it was her own husband who was hurting me? i tried to run, but my body pained from him, i tried to fight back, but it was worthless...everything was worthless.
People said that once you get entangled in a life full of misery and torture, its almost impossible to escape. I refused to believe that. I refused to believe that this was the life I was born for, that being subject to my fathers own sexual desires and abuse was my only purpose. It didn't make sense to me, but as I tried to escape from my torture, life threw me back into it. People say that only you yourself can understand your own pain, and it was true. Only I could understand how I had spent the last 18 years of my life.
Luckily, I was clever. I had only been to school till grade 8, but I was sharper than most thought. I wanted to escape, I needed to escape. It was a cold winters night when he had summoned me, but I refused. I crept under my blanket and hoped quietly it would end there...but to no avail. Kicking and screaming, my mother dragged me to his room. He stood there, smug as always. As I looked to him, I saw only a devil, only the cause of my pain.
He grabbed me with his muscular hands, ready to claim his prey, but little did he know...so was I. The knife in my pocket pocked me threateningly as he threw me against the wall and began to beat me up. With each punch that he had laid on me, came a look of satisfaction on his face, but as he began to remove his belt, I summoned out my knife.
I didn't have to think about what to do next, I didn't try to plead, I just attacked. Years of unforgiveness and anger seemed to concentrate in my hands and attack. I was no longer thinking, just stabbing, just punishing. Then I ran, I grabbed the bag I had pre-packed and ran. I ran away from that house, my past, and my fathers lifeless body.
The series of events after that could simply be seen as lucky. The law helped me to escape on a clean slate, with a new life. It was hard, but not impossible. Now I feel happy, I feel free. My sufferings had manifested into words in which I gained reconciliation and insight. Words that became books, and books that all depicted stories of a young woman who was able to escape from difficult past to make a success of life.
