As I child I was weak and almost always sick. My father was worried about me, my mother would shed tears every time I was confined to my bed, I would be dragged away from the brink of death every time and fear the next time. I would sit in front the window and watch the rest of the children from the village play- I would envy them for having a normal childhood while on the other hand there was I, who couldn't walk without some kind of support. I was a small child for my age, weak with all my bones showing. My skin was much pale than the others. I was rarely allowed to go out and that too not without lack of supervision. I would often get sick and was restricted to my bed due to cold weather so I was rarely let out of my house. It made me into an introvert, I would get anxious when surrounded by others- I would stammer and holding a conversation was the hardest thing. I would get insecure of my looks and the fact that I was different.
But as I grew up I learned to live with my differences and my insecurities. I learned the fact that life is not about the differences we created among ourselves but the battles we all fight. I was just living a shadow of what was supposed to be life. The life that I was going to see was far from what I wanted to have all because of that one man who would love me and torment me at the same time. Erick- He wasn't a devil because calling him devil would be like insulting the devil. He was worst than that and way above with his insanity and love for unnecessary blood spillage.
Being with him made me feel as if death was far better than the life that he bestowed upon me- there wasn't a single thing that I would want and wish for and he wouldn't give me. But All the wealth of the world wouldn't be enough for the pain that he gave me.
The will to have me all to himself made him blind as to my feelings and my worth. To him I was nothing but an article that he felt the need to posses.
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As a child my dad would tell me stories to console me when every I was sick- his stories made me feel better. Every night I would wait for him to return from the neighboring village , eat his food and tuck me to bed. He would tell me stories about the war between the humans and the creatures. He would tell me about the struggles of the humans who were fighting everyday. He said that he feared that someday they would come for us too and that day is the day when we all will be forced to escape and leave everything that we build behind. Being the sheltered child who was both naïve and inexperienced I would take my father's words lightly. I would think that these talks were just one of the many stories my father told me as I drifted to sleep.
I took his words lightly, hidden under the warmth of my favorite teddy bears printed blanket I thought the world was as warm and small like my blanket but the world was cold and dark- it was a place where a overprotected person couldn't survive if let out of the vicinity of her home. I was made molded into a trusting submissive child who trusted her parents as a little girl and than the monster as she grew into a woman. However I was told to accept whatever I got and however I got but the pain that was inflicted mentally, physically and in my soul was itched to it like a ink that wouldn't fade away- it was as if I was branded with the hot iron like an animal of his name - as mush as it was humiliating I accepted the ill treatment silently.
But looking back at the treatment now I felt disgusted to core, I was ashamed of what I was, a weakling for certain who had no pride, as she let her abusive partner trample her dignity over and over and yet she is not able to get out of that abusive relationship because she is too scared to defy herself. Women like me knows the best that their relationships are nothing short of toxic and abusive, they are very well aware that they should get out of such relationships. they can find people who will cherish them but they are too unconfident in oneself. The abuse goes on for a long time period , they make and break their minds several time to leave those abusers behind but the false and unrealistic hope that their partners will change for the better maybe not today but someday make them forget that they are human and can break easily. Many of these women die with that hope still clung to them until the last straw and when that straw is broken so it their thread of life. But there are others whom we call survivors who finally learn to take a stand for themselves and make it out alive if not unharmed and some of them live with those painful memories that are like nightmares keeping them awake every single day with the fear that they are still trapped. They hallucinates that they are still stuck with their abusers until those memories make them vulnerable and to forget that pain that is still so vivid they start finding ways to make it all go away.
I found my solace and my strength in the very secret that my father had hidden from me forever and was able to break out of that golden cage he created for me. A cage with every comfort is a cage because it's not just that cage but a hallucination that is far from truth and that too is what keeps you caged like a bird.
Creation is hard, cheer me up!