Trigger warning: Mention of abuse and disgust

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Let me just endure this as well. Is this something you should endure? Asked the voice in my head, but I ignored it. I couldn't focus on anything else other than the hand on me. The hand that thought they could do anything to me, who was supposed to be in deep slumber but a foreign feeling woke me up. Startled at what was happening and because of whom, I had the strong urge to punch the man's guts out but was scared for the one sleeping in the other room, full of life and opportunities to explore. One wrong move and that could be the end of not only me but also the other one sleeping soundly, without any clue, without having relished the world. Though the journey was cruel, it was always worth it in the end. The journey of one's life in this world.

This is also something I should endure, I convinced myself and stayed still. Controlling the tears that were threatening to spill out of my closed eyes. No, I couldn't let it slip. Not yet. Not ever. I was chanting in my mind. I was relieved when the hand left from beneath. But the fear and the building-up scream returned when the hand hadn't left my body but just moved up, beneath my hood, beneath my shirt, beneath my shame and beneath a woman's pride.

My mind was screaming at me to stop it. My heart was thrashing around in its cage, wishing for once that it wasn't something that had to go on and could just stop instead of having to witness and feel this.

The hands lingered there, remained there for a while struggling to get a break free, but by some power, it didn't get. Then finally it withdrew, having given up its struggle and slowly retracts back to the owner as the owner made his way out of my house, and out of my life as well now. The guilt and the shame of not being able to do anything to protect me from it were crashing down on me, all at once and I couldn't bear the weight of it all. But I had to and I will, for the little life in the other room, even if it means this is the life I have to live. Even if it means that I would never be able to face the world with my head held high, cause at the end of my journey, starts the journey of the one filled with life and joys of small things. The one who was still sound asleep, and still without a clue.

And years passed as the one I shouldn't have to hide it from gets to know. but rather than comfort, it is another kind of hell that I have to live through. The blame falling on me was the last thing I expected from the warm body that always protected me through every hell. The arms that pushed all pain away was the same one that was making me live through all of them every other day. The smallest mistake still, the same haunting thoughts are being thrown back at me. "You deserved it."

Being said over and over again that slowly it is getting to my head.

"Maybe it was all your fault." The voice in my head said and again, I was held powerless against the voice in my head and all around me. This time, the warmth of love has also left me as the person who gave now only has disgust to offer. And just like that, I am forced to endure the disgust as well.  

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~sky💙