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People who were abused while growing up do sometimes engage in societal crimes. Read this short story about a girl child who was abused by her father.
Who said that sex is gratifying? To me, sex is the worst form of evil. It is a trip to hell, an act that rips my soul apart.
The first time I had sex I was only nine, and it was with my nefarious dad, he started with caressing my ass cheeks whenever he baths me because mum was always busy, he pattered them sometimes, watch as they jiggled and licked his lower lips. He later began penetrating in between my thigns once mu is out of sight.
Each of those times, he tells me that he was preparing me for marriage and that it was a proof of his love for me as his only child. married. Any day I tried to refuse him, my body would bear the brunt of his temper, he would force his way in, squeezing my tender breasts harder and ramming into me in the widest way, ignoring my muffled groans. After he was done, he would mutter some apologies and then a warning not to be a stubborn girl to daddy and not to tell mummy about it.
My mum has been our source of livelihood ever since my dad lost his job, she would work her tail off everyday, goes out before cock crow and comes back when the birds has retired to their nests. She has no time for me.
It continued until thirteen when I became pregnant, I had to tell everything to mum. In hearing that, she covered my mouth with her palm, told me to keep it a secret and save our family’s reputation. They made abort the baby and by the time I clocked 15 I had aborted 6 babies, I felt more miserable after each one and on the process my uterus was damaged which led to the total removal of the uterus. I never told told anyone because our reputation was far more valuable than my life, I had to bear the crushing weight of keeping that reputation.
I couldn’t watch myself rot in the place I called home, so at 16 I ran away to somewhere filled with vulnerable people like me. people overfed with pains whose happiness are found in a cork of green bottles. So when you see me puff the smoke of my cigarette towards heaven, just know it’s my message to God to watch over my newly found life and home.
When next time you see me scantily dressed standing by the road side, please don’t judge me cos you might do worst if you were in my shoes.