Victim

Part I: Why?

I have never actually “felt” a story until this one. I actually never thought I would write about a topic like this, but I decided to anyways. Tell me what you think by voting or commenting.

………………………………………………………………………………………………….

“Bye,” I yelled to my mom as I headed out the screen door.

"Bye, Vanessa," she screamed to make sure I heard her.

I entered the ugly jeep and buckled my seatbelt. My mom never does, but everyone still expects me to do so. That is so unfair. Dad started the car, and we made our way to his house for the weekend. My parents divorced when I was only three years old. My dad gets to have us over for weekends. I looked out the window and just remembered I forgot to hug and kiss my mom. I feel guilty for not telling her I love her. My concentration was interrupted by my stupid brothers who wouldn’t stop yelling about how much they wanted pizza for dinner. We ALWAYS have pizza when we visit our dad. Of course, he got pepperoni pizza from my least favorite restaurant in the entire city. Once we arrived, I entered the front door of his old house.

We all sat down at the dinner table suited for four people. I sat directly across from my dad so I was not directly to his left or right. I opened a box of pizza and winced at the horid stench. I ate the disgusting pizza anyways just so I wouldn’t be hungry for the rest of the day. I made sure to drink plenty of water so the taste of it wouldn't linger in my mouth. 

After dinner, I went to my room to play on my computer. I was the only one in the house with my own computer other than Dad. He understood how to create computers given the needed gadgets and widgets so I don't know why my brothers didn't get one. I went onto a gaming website to waste some time. There wasn't much to do at my dad's house. I played for what seemed like thirty minutes, but it was actually a couple hours. I heard my dad yell from across the house. 

 “Bedtime,” he screamed. 

Why we have a bedtime on a weekend? Who knows?

I brushed my teeth and glared at the mirror. My normally light tan skin seemed paler than usual. It must've been the lighting in the bathroom. My dad needs to replace the dim bulbs. My tall frame peered over the sink to cleanse my mouth of the minty toothpaste taste. I glanced at the mirror to see my supposedly beautiful face once more. Even though my mom says it is perfect, I still managed to find a flaw which was one little bump on my incredibly smooth skin. I then throw on some pajamas filled with pink and purple hearts.

The clock said 9:00 o’clock, but it felt like only 3:00. I was not ready to go to bed. I threw my fleece blanket over me and closed my eyes anyways. I knew all too well what would happen next. I pretended I was asleep, but it was no use. My dad barged into my room drunk as usual, and he snatched my blanket off me. Even if I was actually asleep, there is no way he wouldn't have woken me up. Cold enveloped me, and I just wanted my covers back.

He then did the most HORRIBLE, SICK thing anyone could ever do to someone.

How could my brothers in the room across from me be so oblivious as to what was happening?

I wanted to scream for help, but his nasty, callused hand blocked my mouth from speaking. The smell of alcohol in his breath made me wince as he tortured me. Alcohol can do some awful things to even the best of people. Finally, he was done. He had had his way. Unfortunately, my dad always gets what he wants. I just wanted my mom. I begin to formulate plans to cause a scene next weekend asking if I can stay home instead of coming to this awful and unsafe building.

I wished my dad would get a girlfriend. I always told him to get one, but refusal is all I received.

"If you tell anyone, worse things will happen, Vanessa." he made sure to remind me. He put a lot of emphasis on my name so I knew he was extremely serious. He left my room as quietly as he could so as not to disturb my lucky brothers. I wished one day they would just wake up to use the restroom or something and see what my dad is doing. 

I am too scared to tell my mom what is happening. He threatens to hurt me even more if I do, but I don’t know what could possibly hurt more than a parent hurting their own child. Children look up to their parents and trust them. How could anyone betray someone’s trust in such a cruel way? I don’t want to hurt my dad, but I don’t want him to cause me pain any longer. I used to love my dad maybe even more than my mom at times, but fear has replaced love in the relationship he has created between us.

I gently shut my eyes hoping sleep will fix everything. Sleep is the only place where I feel safe and happy. My dad has taken over my life.

 Maybe one day this nightmare will end.