Love That Hurts

Love that hurts: Chapter 2

Billy was friends with my father for atleast 10 years. But in those 10 years he was my father’s drink and drug buddy. There was no real friendship involved; it was pure drink and drug business. Unfortunately, he too would abuse me, both physically and sexually. Billy was just another Gus (my father’s name).Someone who didn’t care about anyone or anything. My parents didn’t care. It hurt to see the guy i looked up to was now raping me. Billy was someone i thought was amazing when i was 7years old but now i knew he was just another idiot like my father.

I slowly made my way over to Billy who had his arms opened for a hug. I didn’t want to hug him but i had no choice because i knew he would create a scene. His smell was deadly; it was sweat, drink and drugs mixed up in one. It was sickening. Whilst he hugged me, he whispered in my ear “come on bunny-boo, it’s time for your second surprise, i was your first but the rest of your surprises are ready for you” i felt sick by the way his words were said. He was talking flirtatiously but to me it was as if the devil himself was inviting me to his territory. “Bunny-boo” was the nickname he used to use for me when i was 7years of age and quite frankly i used to like it as it made me feel special however in contrast, currently even the thought of him calling me ‘bunny-boo’ would make me hurl.

When we got to my house, Billy walked me to my room, he told me to get ready in a short black dress. I didn’t have a short black dress but when i looked on my bed; my clothes were all set up.

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The incident that took place after getting changed shook me to my very core. I was frozen still from what happened. I was raped by a gang of 8 including my father and Billy. I didn’t think that this would happen but it did and i couldn’t take it anymore. I had, had enough!  It was killing me, the torture had to stop otherwise i would die a slow and painful death when I’d rather die instantly.

I didn’t understand why i was being punished from the heavens above. It’s not like I’ve done anything wrong in my life. I’ve never drunk, smoked or had sex apart from being raped, so why was i suffering. From the age of 7, was when this physical abuse started and at 16 the sexual abuse started. But why me? I didn’t do anything bad. In school i got A-A*’s in all subjects, i followed my parents orders. I did everything i was asked to, yet i was being punished to the extent where my own blood was raping me. It didn’t make sense. I just wanted to crawl away and die. I didn’t see why i had to suffer with the abusive people around me. I did have a strong belief that whatever was happening in my life was happening for a reason and that anytime soon, something good will come out of this. 

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 The following few weeks went on the same, my father and mother would 24/7 physically abuse me and my father once every few days would rape me alongside Billy who would come by once a week to rape me.

School life was hectic; i would get bullied all the time. All going unnoticed by the teachers, But i would try not let it affect me too much.

I tried to keep away from my peers views. Always sitting at the back of the class hoping to go unnoticed but when the teachers would ask questions or when i would go into class or when I’d walk in the corridors or even when I’m at lunch, they would start calling me names and tripping me over, causing me to fall.

It hurt to see no-one would help me but what could i do. I believed that by acting upon the torture, i would make the fates angry so i decided to play it cool and suffer, as i did believe that at the end of this, something good will defiantly come out of it.

 I waited and waited yet noting happened. It was torture.

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It was now the 26th of October 2004 and it was a cold night. I lay in bed thinking what a life i was given. With bad parents and a horrible school life, i just felt suicidal but then I’d remember some of the positives i had in life, like getting good grades and that one day these grades will take me far and be the source of my departure from my family and peers. This was the only reason keeping me sane and not acting upon suicide. I poured my heart out to God, asking why he gave me such a life, where even the ones i loved were far from me. I was crying until my door flew open. 

It was my father; he was angry and drunk but his words and sentences were clear suggesting that he hadn’t drunk as much however had, had a few bottles. “Y-you little bitch; this is-ss your fault, why were you ever born, why couldn’t you d-die when i kick-kicked your mom’s stomach when you were in that bastard stomach of h-hers. Why did you enter my life a-and turn my life into a living hell. Why, why and why? Why can you crawl aw-away and die? Why don’t you go and live with you-our fuking mother’s s-side instead of living with m-me? I hate you, you evil little bitch” listening to his words, was like someone stabbing me in my heart over and over yet not satisfied. I completely zoned out to whatever he was ranting about.

My mind was all over the place but before i could even think about what i said, i blurted out the words that i knew would most likely be the end of me. “Because it was God’s decision i was born, not you, you dumb bastard. They say worship the ground your parents walk on; huh i wouldn’t even spit there as you both are a spiteful pair of maniacs. Who bought me onto this world to tort-‘’ he stopped me there and dragged me down the stairs by my hair in front of my mother who was smoking. 

She shouted “what the fuck are you doing, you evil little bitch? Why are you torturing your poor father, he does everything for you, yet your being ungrateful. You need to buckle up and get-‘’ i stopped her there and shouted “well if that the case, then I’ll go, i don’t need to live here listening to you two constantly barking at me, so I’ll just go” at this point in time i was crying and my eyes were all puffy and red . God knows where i got this sudden surge of anger in me but all i knew it had been building up in my for quite some time and currently my father had pushed me to my limits and i couldn’t take it anymore and  control the words that were bursting out my mouth like flames. 

However before i could even reach the door, my mother grabbed my arm, twisted it three times with so much force that i screamed with all the energy i had left. She gripped a chunk of my hair and pulled, twisted and yanked it before doing the one thing that she would always do, she crashed the cigarette she had in her hand on my forehead for at least a minute. It burned, i screamed and shouted but she continued doing so. With a smirk on her face, she looked to my dad and asked “baby, do you think i should let her go or should we continue with this beautiful pattern i have created on her forehead?” my father let out a loud laugh before answering “honey, you know my response would be to carry on however babe, this sket will have school in the morning so we shouldn’t leave it there for too long. So leave it for about another minute or so and then you can leave her. However that doesn’t mean the punishment will stop” at his words i knew what was coming next. 

After my mother stopped, forcing the cigarette on my forehead, she punched both of my eyes followed by punching my cheeks. Started using her plastic sandal and was whacking my face with it.

She was putting pressure into her hits and punches and before she tore my head off my father stopped her. “Honey calm down” my mother stopped. My father took me out of my mother’s hands and raped me. He then wasn’t satisfied and spanked me viciously on my body. When he was done, he dragged me to my room and slammed me on the bed, Followed by spitting on me and walking out.

As soon as he left, i let my tears pour out, i had no control over them and quite frankly i was glad. I needed to get rid of them, they have been building up for a while and i couldn’t let myself suffer anymore. My eyes were red and puffy, my forehead had a bright and burning mark, and my body ached in pain as I tried to go to the bathroom. After a half hour struggle i managed to get to the bathroom where i struggled to have a shower but i knew i needed to have one as i was covered in blood and my father’s smell. It was 11:57pm when i finally crawled in to bed. I was still in pain but i had managed to control my tears. I had gone into a train of thoughts and didn’t realise when i dozed off. 

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So chapter 2 guys!

What did you think?

Sorry for the late update, been stressed out over the past few days, still am, however im trying to become more happier and normal i guess? Well whatever that is.

Anyway, hope you guys liked the chapter. There is a lot planned for this book, so please dont give up.

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Thank you,

-CreativeAysha :)