Chapter 1

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It was January 2nd, and I couldn't for the life of me fathom how I'd made it this long, even though it was literally only the second day of the year. Every night since I'd returned my step father came to my room. I could still taste the vileness of his unwashed hands clamping down on my mouth to silence my screams of pain. I could still feel the tears run down my cheeks as I felt my body being violated and used, a pain I was familiar with, but it hurt more with each passing day.

It was dark out, I knew he would be visiting soon. My very dark skin made it almost impossible for people to notice bruises formed on my face from my assault. It was how I'd managed to keep it a secret for so long. I hadn't told a soul about what I experienced at the hands of my mother's husband, I feared no one would ever believe me.

The stillness in the air and the slow creak of my mother's room door opening told me I would be receiving another unwanted visit. I wished I could lock my door, but my mother had strictly insisted on us leaving our doors open ever since my sister was caught masturbating four years ago.

I never knew this night would be different, in the most unexpected way. Perhaps I could say, it began the year that would see me seeing a reason to be alive.

As my step father entered my room, my heart began pounding and I couldn't stop the tears that rolled down my cheeks. Of all the nasty things that could possibly happen to anyone, why did it have to be this?

He was engrossed in his pleasure, I was engrossed in my pain, neither of us heard her coming. And for that I was immensely grateful.

Suddenly, we were both assaulted from the harsh lights that suddenly came on, courtesy of my mother, standing at my doorway, holding her favourite flashlight. I couldn't see her, but I knew she probably looked like she had seen a ghost.

"Jesus Christ!" My mother screamed, the flashlight she held in her hands falling to the ground into a million pieces. Once again we were plunged into darkness, yet I knew she could see all too well.

My step father quickly pulled out of me, tripping over the belt he had left carelessly on the ground.

"Mary, I can expl–"

He was cut short by a resounding slap from my mother.

I pulled my bedsheet closer to my body, retreating into the corner, shaking. Her full attention was focused on him, and she definitely was not pleased. I feared for how she would treat me.

"You disgusting pig. How dare you?" She asked, trembling with obvious anger.

He tried to take a step closer to her only to receive another slap.

"Get out of my house this second, James! Right this second!" She screamed even louder, pushing him out of my room with surprising strength.

My mother wasn't by any means a small woman. She was over 6 ft tall, and well built. Despite knowing this, I was fascinated by how she commanded such fear from the beast that terrorized me for over three years, reducing him to a begging mess and dragging him out of my room.

I heard her yelling all sorts of abuses at him and slamming the door against his face. Spectators had gathered outside from the sounds of the murmurs and hushed whispers, and I knew my mother had given them something to talk about. Mary kicking her husband out of the house, naked, in the middle of the night. For them, it was definitely news to whisper and laugh about. But for me, it was the beginning of something I've never known and could not understand; peace.

Shortly thereafter, my mother reappeared in my room, although she looked different this time. Her shoulders had fallen and she was sporting a broken look. Guilt marred her beautiful face and I could see that her heart was breaking.

"It wasn't your fault, Amina." She said. "Come." She beckoned me, and I moved towards her wordlessly.

She enveloped me in a tight hug, wrapping me with strong arms and a promise of a better after.

"I'll make sure he never touches you again. Never."

And with those words, I knew I would not only see a new day, but a better one.

That night my mother cuddled me next to her, wrapping me in a comfortable embrace that somehow washed away all the unpleasantness of the night. I didn't know what to say to make her feel better, or ease some of the burden that was dragging her down. I was going through pain, but she had to live with the guilt of knowing she let a monster into her home.

And although I knew she wasn't entirely to blame, because that beast was just like a shape shifter, he looked so honest and responsible during the day, so she could never have known the unspeakable damage he caused me every night; I knew it, but I knew she wouldn't.

That night was the beginning of something knew, I didn't know what, but I could certainly feel it in my bones. And for the first time in what felt like forever, I drifted off into a sleep that saw me wishing for a new day.

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When I woke up, I heard voices downstairs. At first I began to panic, fearing that my mother's husband had come back, but I relaxed nearly immediately, reminding myself of her promise. I knew one night couldn't wash away the scars three years had inflicted on my soul, but for once I felt strong enough to try. So I washed myself clean of the happenings of the previous night and got dressed, heading downstairs to face whatever demons accompanied the new day.

My mother was in the sitting room, talking to two men who I assumed from their uniform were police officers. I didn't need a genius to tell me what that particular meeting was for.

I quietly sat down as my mom told the police about my step father, telling them she was more than ready to do whatever was necessary to make sure he never saw the light of day anymore.

I felt a bit scared at her tone, knowing it was a sin to take another's life into your hands, yet I couldn't feel anything but relief that I didn't have to fear my step father anymore. For once in a long time, I could close my eyes without the fear of opening them to pain and discomfort, and for that I was grateful.

I wondered if God would be displeased at my thoughts, silently saying a prayer for forgiveness if that was the case, but the way my relief came was nothing short of miraculous, and thus I had a feeling God was on my side. After all, I don't think I had been anything but faithful. Definitely not the best, but I kept Him in my heart.

After a few more minutes, the officers left, and I was alone with my mother. Years of her disapproval and nagging flashed before my eyes, and I knew she had loved me all along, although she hadn't shown it in the best way possible. Then again, no matter how much someone loves us, they make mistakes, I just wished her lack of attentiveness hadn't cost me so much.

I didn't want to think of what I had endured, or how my mother must have felt at the sight of her husband– No, I didn't want to go there.

I knew the memories would eventually come rushing back, for for that moment I just wanted to freeze time laying with my mother, and believe that her fervent promises that everything would be okay were true.

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