𝑽𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝑯𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔

𝑼𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒚

He was a good man. He raised me when my parents couldn't. He taught me French, how to read and write, and he made me fall in love with math. He even taught me piano and we would sing in the synagogue together. I would sit on his lap while he put his big hands on mine when we would touch the keys together.

I remember his face. It was hairy, brown curly hair covered his mouth. He was green-eyed, very pretty eyes behind round glasses. He had a fat nose and thin lips. I remember his voice. Soft, always sounded like he needed to cough. He used to let me rub his beard. It felt rough. He was tall, almost like my dad. He was a big guy.

We would sit together and do homework or watch movies. He would do silly dances when I practiced piano. He loved to give me gifts. I don't have many of them anymore, I only have a stuffed teddy bear from the third night of Hanukkah. He would smoke a lot, I think that's why I do it too. He would smoke when he gave me a bath or when we would go to the park after service. It was just us. He never had a partner, nor did he look for one. I remember one time, after a party, I was asleep on a chair. He picked me up and gave me a big kiss on my cheek. He carried me all the way home. I touched his tiny braid as he rubbed my back. I felt very safe. I was loved.

He was amazing. He called me his son. I actually thought he was my real father until he reminded me of what happened. I missed my parents, but he was there. I wasn't alone. He would let me sleep in his big bed when I would have nightmares, or the thunderstorms scared me. He would hold me tight and tell me stories. He gave me everything I wanted, but I didn't ask for much. As long he was there, that's all that mattered to me.

Something changed when I was five. He started to drink a lot, I don't know why. One night, I was having a hard time with my homework, and he was drunk out of his mind. He got angry, started shouting, I was crying, then he smashed the bottle of beer on my head. It was the only time he did that. I remember waking up confused as he was wrapping my head in banages. He started to cry as he was saying how sorry he was. I wrapped my arms around him and apologized instead for being stupid and not understanding simple math problems. I still think it's my fault for not knowing he wasn't himself and getting him upset.

He did that more often. He would throw things at me or shout at me. Once, he told me my parents didn't love me and that's why they didn't want anything to do with me. I remember being so sad that I ran to the closet to hide. But he found me. He dragged me out by my feet to my bedroom. I remember trying to grasp the floor and begging him to leave me alone. He took off his belt and hit me with it. It wasn't the only time he did that, but it was the only time he apologized for it. He never remembered what he did those nights, but I hate to think that he did remember and decided to play the fool.

The night it began was an average night. He hit me, threw beer cans at me, and sent me to my room after I couldn't stop crying. I was snuggled up in the blanket and hugging my teddy bear. He came in, I could smell him before he sat on my bed. He wrapped his arms around me, and I saw tears getting trapped in his bushy beard. I wiped them with my fingers and told him I was sorry. He said we were going to play a game.

He turned off my lights. I heard him take off his clothes first. When he flicked them on, I saw him naked. I gasped, then laughed. Little kids think that's funny. I stopped laughing when I saw his red eyes. They had a look that would become familiar very quickly. He turned off the lights again and told me to take off my clothes. I did what he said, I wanted him to stay in a good mood. I was six.

He told me to lay down, and I did. He laid on top of me. I couldn't really breathe well. I told him I didn't want to play anymore. I got scared. I asked him to stop.

It happened.

It hurt.

I grabbed at his beard. I tried pulling it. I screamed. I told him no. I told him to get off me so I could leave. There was so much blood. I started to cry. I begged for God to help me. I begged for my teacher. I begged for my parents. Nobody came for me. I covered my ears and shut my eyes tight.