I sit there every night just thinking to myself, why is life this way? Is this all a dream, are the bad times forever, because that’s how it seems.
Every night this poor young girl I see is crying herself to sleep and I wonder why it’s coming from someone as beautiful and graceful as her. Since her mother has gone away she looks so frightened, alone and tense. She’s alone with her stepfather who she hates and anger fills him. She’s scared to be alone with him and just thinking about him makes her feel unsafe. Her mother doesn’t believe the horrible, sick and nasty things that he does to her. Her mother left for a couple of weeks through her business and said she would be back soon.
She feels sick with fright; the hairs on her neck stand on end as if some thing from a horror film has entered the house and her life.
He abuses her emotionally and made her feel like she is worthless. She is crying out loud, just wishing her mother will come back and catch this horrid man, who was supposed to be her dad, respect her and not do the things he is doing. He touched her in places where he shouldn’t have touched her. He did some things to her that he shouldn’t have done.
All she needs is prayer and strength. She cried and cried; she was alone and had no one to help her. She ran into her room and paged her mother. She’s shaking as she grips the pager, her fringe sticking to her forehead, as beads of sweat appear.
Tragedy began for this young girl. Why her? “Why me” she wonders?
She told her mum, but no! She won’t believe her, “Liar”, her Mum shouted, “LIAR”. She can’t believe this, her friends, family and even her own mother do not believe she’s being hurt and abused. She was so beautiful.
I remember back then when I was three years old, I was so happy. I had the normal life of any three year old. I played happily. My mother and her boyfriend took me out; they meant the world to me. Well as much as I can remember.
The years went by and they got married and I was a bridesmaid, I can remember the look on my mothers face, she looked so beautiful.
The sun was shining down and I thought to myself this is the happiest day of my life. Later on that year things started to change, I wouldn’t see my stepfather as often as usual, and he would never talk to me and was always out. When he did talk he was nasty, he would never let me talk to my mum when I needed to, he would say ‘leave your mother in peace for once’, and he would whisper in my ear ‘don’t talk to her she’s my wife your just the spiteful little child’. I can still smell, almost taste, his breath, a mixture of cigarettes and whisky which always made me feel sick and put a shiver down my spine.
But when I told my mum she would say I was being pathetic, silly and would then tell me off for telling lies. She just couldn’t see what I saw of my stepfather. She only saw his good side. To her he did no wrong.
To her he meant the world, and I don’t know why, he was so cunning and sly, he hid from her what he did to me. My mother never ever saw it. He was two faced like Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.
Each night as I was in bed I would hear him coming in really late, drunk I suppose. When he got to the top of the landing I would hide under the covers praying he did not enter my room. Then I would hear the door knob turn and hear his footsteps on the wooden floorboards. I’d lie there under my duvet shaking with fear not knowing what he would do. He would do his ‘dirty’ on me then whisper in my ear that if I told, no one would believe a stupid kid. It was horrible; he would walk out with a smirk on his face I couldn’t move with fear. I felt dirty not wanted and worthless to any one. Why was he doing this?
I thought we were a happy family. The weeks went by and it was still going on, and I couldn’t do a thing to stop it. My mother started packing her things, she told me she had to go away for a couple of week’s part of her business, her work. I said ok but deep, deep down inside I was terrified. I just wanted to run away I couldn’t believe I’d be left alone with him. I’d tell my mother what he does to me, but she would not believe me. She’d say I was making things up for attention. I feel I’m invisible no one around me cares how I feel. I feel deeply like there’s only one way out. A place to go were I will be respected cared for and here is the place the complete opposite to that. I hate it, I hate this. All I have to offer is my crying. Why me? I feel alone, why won’t anyone listen?
No one could figure out why this young girl would live her life in such pain and unhappiness. Dry your eyes young girl, don’t cry you’re beautiful, it’s not your fault young girl. Your not the one to blame, soon it will be ok, one day you’ll realise your beauty. Don’t hold your head down so low, you’ve got so much, so much you can still live your life, I promise you, you’ll survive girl. You’re beautiful!