***TRIGGER ALERT***

I KNOW I'VE PUT THIS IN SUMMARY BUT THIS CHAPTER HAS AN ACT OF SEXUAL VIOLENCE.

I didn't realise I was sexually abuse until I found out what it was

-kidshelpphone via Pinterest

By the time I'd arrive home by midnight I was exhausted, both mentally and physically. The pain in my stomach continued to hurt as if I could literally feel it shrinking.

I was greeted with an unexpected miracle as I entered the house.

My mother was in the kitchen.

Cooking.

And not drunk.

I wonder if I've walked into the wrong house, there was something wrong with this picture. I did the only logical thing I could and left checking the number on the letter box. After distinguishing that it is was indeed the house I live in I tentatively took  steps to check out what has brought out this turn of events.

"Hi." I greet my mother cautiously.

"Evening Angel baby."

God I hate when she calls me that. Her falsified terms of endearment proves to me that I'm anything but angelic. I'm going to Hell for my indirect sins.

The smell of burnt tomatos' wafts towards me, and I quickly turned off the stove. The empty contents of the jar of pasta sauce was burnt at the bottom of the saucepan.

My mother's eye glitches and I stepped back to avoid the up and coming outburst. As expected she picked up the saucepan and threw it at the wall. It crashes creating a sizeable hole. If the people from the housing commission see it we could very well be evicted.

"I can't do anything right." She wails and drops to the floor.

I stand frozen on the spot not even making an effort to console her. Not even able to ask her what's wrong, I'll find out eventually when she blames me in a rant.

Right now I'm numb and lacking in empathy. Over time its dwindling and my greatest fear is one day I'll wake up and I won't have any love to give anybody. I'm already a shell of a human, never experiencing what it is to feel like a person who wakes up and doesn't wants to die.

Dear Diary,

It's been a night of strange turn around. First with creep number one, I mean James, now my mother. At least with my mother I have an inkling about what it's about. It has to be a male, but who? Yesterday, she was off the rails usually she gets her act together a few days after meeting a male. Oh, how sad I knew her routine.

Now James why was he nice to me, and even so helped me out? Is it a subtle way to lure me in because he wants to sleep with me?

I'm completely jaded, since I've lost my virginity it's like the finally nail in the coffin. It's all I'm good for.

My body has been used and abused, my mouth first tainted at the age of seven. The man responsible was a thing of nightmares, my daddy's friend who I was told to call uncle. I'm try hard on a daily basis to forget all the things he made me do to him, and if I didn't obey it would make him angry.

Just thinking about it churns my stomach just like it did all those years again.

The hair grabbing.

Thrusting.

Giving up because it was useless to fight back, and I let him do whatever he wanted, and after what seemed like an eternity let out a satisfied groan reaching his happy ended and finally patted my hair as if I was a kitten and it would placate me.

My stomach heaved and I wanted to throw up but he clamped his large hand over my small mouth. Hot, salty tears trailed down my cheeks. After he finished he stoked my hair calling me his "pretty girl."

Remembering if I stopped crying he'd leave me alone I did this with a threat that nobody will believe me if I told. Being young and impressionable I was brought up to respect my elders and have never told a soul. As usual he kept me in the dark and when my parents came home from work I'd hear him from behind the door telling them I was asleep.

I don't have a piece of me that's pure anymore.

If I had an outlet, a way that would direct me to a place which would make my life worth it it'd had a reason to live. I keep receiving knock back after knock back and it's tiring having to continually get up.

I guess I have the possibility of school but I haven't heard anything about that. Maybe my mother found the confirmation letter and has it hidden from me, she doesn't want us to better ourselves. What kind of mother is that? A mother wants their child to excel, to achieve more than them.

I close my diary and hold it to my chest for a few minutes before tucking it under my mattress.

The multiple events swirl in my mind and I really wish it would be contained to one problem at a time. I can still see vividly the events of the house of horrors as I've now associated it with.

Running to the bathroom I brush my teeth until my gums bleed and wash it down with Listerine.

The mind is a powerful weapon capable of decimating or strengthening you. I'm not sure yet which way the pendulum will swing. Maybe I'll make the decision easy and end it all.

Author's Note

Such a devastating chapter so I won't leave a note except to comment/vote I'd love to get this story out there!

❤️ Jacklyn