That one horrible day

I don’t know….

Frankly saying before writing this story, I typed and erased all my words because I was not sure enough.

This is my story.

I had to gather a lot of courage before initiating this story. Friends, we know kids are innocent (I am saying so because I am still preparing my mind). Child abuse is quite a known topic, but we always ignore the child and make him/her vulnerable to get abused.

Yes, I was abused, when I was only 7 years old.

He was my first cousin’s husband, yes that !@@$#$@# was my relative. And the amazing part is, he too had a daughter, a daughter of few months. Why god made him a father, and that too a daughter (he should be impotent).

It was the year 1996, and I went to my Aunt’s place on my summer vacations. I was sleeping on the bedding arranged on the floor with my other cousin brothers. They all were grown-up and hence, they all were heading to their businesses. I was still feeling lazy and prefer to have a power nap.

All of sudden I felt a lot of weight on my body and mustaches on my lips. I was choked… I wanted to breathe… What is happening with me… I knew whatever is happening is not good…

I somehow managed to push him away and run up to the terrace. I shut the door and bolt it. I was trying to capture my breaths and was praying that all is going to be all right. But I knew one thing that my Aunt was very strict and she has always shown respect for her so-called son-in-law. I guess that was not the end of the ordeal. He followed me up.

He knocked the door… I hold my tears… I looked down I saw my Aunt on the road. I don’t know, but I was scared that she’ll not trust me but him. I gulped… and ignored the knocks. It was the door of iron (you can now imagine the noise it would produce if you knock a door made of iron). Knocks turned into noisy bangs. My Aunt finally shouted, “who’s that”. I was feeling like if I did not open the door my Aunt would shout at me and if I did I don’t know what will happen to me.

I could listen to my own heartbeats, I planned that I’ll open the door and I’ll push run him. I was now ready, and finally, I open the door. And I failed… I failed to run… I failed!!!

He grabbed me. He grabbed me hard.

I… I was helpless… I was cursing my father why he left me there. Why? Am I that bad? I could have stayed home, safe and happy.

He grabbed me, and he took his thing out. YES!!! He took his penis out and made me hold it. He asked me to caress it, I gave all attempts to run away from that place, from that situation but I failed. He then asked me to take his penis into my mouth. I felt yuck about what he said. I refused. He said okay kiss it, the moment he forced my head close to his penis I saw a strange man looking at us from a distance and perhaps enjoying the show.

I gather all my strength and I pushed him down on the floor and run down. The moment I reached down I saw my Aunt and she scolded me for banging the terrace door. I looked back and found him standing behind. He was there and there was no sign of guilt on his face. I told my Aunt that I want to go home, but she refused, saying my dad’s reluctant to come, that he did not want to take me home.

Inside I was angry at my dad. I wanted to blame him for these things. But its destiny.

Tick Tock…Tick Tock…Tick Tock… The Time passed (curse that time). My sister asked him to feed his daughter milk. He took her in his lap and seated on the bed, he asked my sister to make me sit close to him saying that I am shy, I ignore him. He grabbed my hand and made me sit next to him on that very bed. And he continued. He touched my parts… he touched me all over.

I hate myself that I did not shout or saved myself then. I hate myself for being that vulnerable. I hate myself that I let him exploit me, abuse me.

I kept crying the rest of the day and I asked my sister to let me call my father, I knew my Aunt would not let me make that call.

Yes, my dad did come the same night and he took me home. Unlike other situations I did not hug him, I did not talk to my mother for days. In fact, for years I made an emotional distance with my parents.

Guys, I want you to learn one thing from my incidence, talk to our kids. Don’t just get angry and start scolding them. If your kids are not talking to you or you find him/her emotionally drained, talk to them. Make them feel that you are friends and make them share all their things (or happenings).

Kids are innocent, and we shall keep the innocence intact.