He hits me.
His own daughter.
Can't he see what this is doing to me?
Can't he see the bruises that he leaves?

The kids at school have started to ask questions.
I hate to think what would happen if they found out.
I don't want their pity.
I just want my father to stop.

He is always mad at me for something.
Like last night, for example.
I made him spaghetti instead of roast like he wanted.
So, what do I get? A beating. And he ATE the food anyway. Didn't give me a single bite.

I'm hungry.
I haven't had anything to eat in about 36 hours.
Why doesn't my father like me?
Did I do something wrong? I hope not.

He wasn't always like this.
It started years ago, when I was 9.
Right after my mother had killed herself.
I had found her, sitting on the bathroom floor with empty pill bottles spread out around her.

I ran to his work, telling him the news.
He took me home, sat me down. I thought he was going to comfort me. I was wrong.
He hit me. Just like that.
I've cried every night since. Silently, though. I don't want to give him the pleasure of knowing he hurt me.

I get good grades, have a good singing voice.
I am School Captain, have a pretty face.
I am good at the arts, excel in sports.
I am the luckiest girl in the world, right? Wrong. Couldn't be more wrong.

School ends.
I run home.
I write a note to my father:
'Goodbye. Mum wanted to get away from you, now I am too. And the only thing I regret is not doing it sooner.'

I lock myself in the bathroom.
No, I will not kill myself with pills.
I am not my mother.
I did not marry that sick man.

No, I will defy him in the best way possible.
I run out of the bathroom.
Grab a length of rope from the back shed.
Try and prepare for what comes next.

I still remember how to make a hangman's noose.
And there I go.
I hang myself.
Right above the front door. Where he will see what he made of his little girl.

The man weeps. He knew it was wrong.
He would have stopped if he knew it was this bad.
He hates himself, but he must go on with life - and make it a good one. He will show his darling daughter that he can be a good person.
He sits on the ground, thinking of what he made of his little girl...

June's POV:

I woke up in my bed with a sudden undesirable taste which leads me to puke, so I quickly rushed into my bathroom towards the toilet and kneel down to empty my stomach.

After few minutes of emptying everything I ate last night--

Remembering last night, everything came back to reality but before I can think about more there was a sharp pain in my abdomen. I felt sore.

I knew this wasn't the period effect because it was earlier this month, finished before 2 days when I came in this house.

Then why do I feel this much of sore?
I walked towards the mirror in the bathroom and washed my face. I looked up and saw dark circles under my eyes. Damn! How tired I look.

Suddenly I noticed something which I didn't earlier waking up. I saw red bruises all over on both of my hands.
My wrists were redden as if they were hold very tightly with something.

There was a look of horror on my face when I noticed that the bruises are on my neck.

I quickly undressed myself but freezed when I saw a little blood stain on my leggings. I knew well I wasn't going through periods. But then why is there a blood stain? What happened to me? And why do I have all this marks on my face and body as if I ran into an accident with a car?

I quickly took the shower and got out of my bathroom. I grab a pair of my pajamas and a SpongeBob tee having short sleeves. I left my hair into a messy bun.

I took my phone and look at the time. It was past 11 in the morning. I over slept. I was just going to remember the last night events but before I could proceed there was a knock on my door.

If someone ask me why I'm scared right now? You should better be in my place. All this stuff is making me crazy.

I opened the door and saw a lady in nearly her fifties standing their with a tray in her hands. She has this pale skin and grey hair tied behind her head in a bun. Her eyes were of beautiful green color with a slight touch of grey in them. She was wearing an apron covering her clothes which was clean but old.

I looked down at her with confused look as she was chubby and slightly Probably a inch shorter than me. She was all smiling genuinely at me as if she meet her daughter after 10-15 years.

"Hi, I'm Viona and I'm the caretaker of this house. Your father told me to cook some breakfast for you so here I'm. I hope you like waffles with nutella! And a cup of English tea or coffee. Whatever you like. Everything's on the plate"

"Err, Thank you so much"- I said in a low voice not knowing what to say more thant his. Than suddenly a thought came into my mind.

"Viona can I ask you something if you don't mind?" - I said in a firm voice with a small smile on my lips.

"Yes, yes of course you can ask me anything"- she said and giggled like a small girl. And I'm already liking her.

"It's been how many years since you're working here?" - I asked unsure about the question.

"Hmmm, It's been around 2 and a half year. Your dad just shifted here when he appointed me as a caretaker for this house and as a cook" - Something unreadable crosses her face. Something sad.

"Oh, thank yo-" I was just going to thank her for this before she can say anything further but noticed that she was looking down at my hands.

I quickly realized I made a big mistake by not wearing long sleeves to cover the marks. And she saw that. A look of horror on her face as she has seen a ghost dancing. I cross my hands under my chest to cover the mask and she noticed.

"June, let me warn you abou-" she was interrupted with a sound of my dad clearing his throat. He was standing near my room door.

Viona started shivering seeing my dad. His expression was dark. He was burning holes in Viona's head by glaring angrily at her. Ohh poor lady.

She turned towards me and muttered something about enjoying the breakfast she made for me and with a smile that says IT'S OKAY to reassure me.

She turned around and quickly walked past by my dad and out of the room. Why was she so scared?

My dad then looked at me and I suddenly felt uncomfortable sharing the same air with him. I looked down with my hands playing with each other's fingers and then...

You don't have any idea what I saw next.

My hands were normal.

No marks.

No bruises.

Nothing.

Not a slightest of redness.

Everything was back to normal as if nothing happened.

How could it be possible!

I saw that.
Viona saw that.
She was even about to warn me about something. But what? She was interrupted by my dad's unwanted presence.

What is happening to me.

I looked up at my dad grinning all creepy again. And I saw the same silhouette behind my dad staring at me. The same silhouette I saw last night in my dreams before going to dinner.

And flashback came.

We were at Ben & Jerry's ice cream parlor and suddenly I felt dizzy eating the whole cup. I looked up for dad and he was smiling all weird looking down at me. The same he was doing now.

Then in the morning Stomach pain.

The bruises.

The marks.

Dark circles as if I was too tired and didn't slept.

The soreness in my body.
Especially near my pubic area.

The blood stain on my clothes.
On my underwear.

A shiver ran down my spine.

I now know why I'm feeling all this.

Rape.

Did I just got raped?

A TEAR FELL FROM MY EYE.

I looked up in horror towards my dad's face. He was still standing there all smiling down at me.

Did he just do that to me?

Tell me that I'm hallucinating. Tell me this all is just a bad dream.

But I still feel sore.

And I know something bad happened last night with me.

Did my own father...?

A little sob escaped from my mouth.

I'm rapped by my own dad?

Why did he do this to me?

Why me? And why he?

And suddenly everything went black again

***********

A/N

~ so this is a poem dedicated to the girls out there who has been through all this. The abuse. The rape. Everything done by their father/stepfather or anyone from their own family.

My story is related to the topic where girls are raped and murdered brutally by their own father. This happens every now and then.

When in the morning I wake up and start reading newspaper, I can see this stuff going on around the world.

AND THIS DOESN'T FEEL GOOD.
I feel safe when I look at my dad's face but have we ever thought about the girls going through all this abuse?

So I hope you all like this chapter.

How was it? And of course the poem?

Good? Sad? Emotional? Way too touching our souls?

Please comment and let me know.

And yes! Don't forget to vote in the end.
It helps me to write more and more.

Till then keep reading. Keep voting.

Enjoy
Xoxoxo