Maid 18.

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"There's a fire starting in my heart, reaching a fever pitch and it's bringing me out the dark. Finally, I can see you crystal clear. Go ahead and sell me out and I'll lay your ship bare. See how I leave with every piece of you. Don't underestimate the things that I will do," Rolling in the Deep, Adele

I kept reading.

I couldn't stop the tears from falling.

As I read every single word on the page, written in Nishan's cursive handwriting, each sentence telling a tale of the worst thing possible, I tried so hard not to weep violently. I could literally feel his emotions and I couldn't put together how he felt in that moment. I could only understand why he was the way that he was and nothing hurt more to imagine how distraught and broken he grew out to be.

November 8, 2005.

I remember the day that it happened.

I told mom that I didn't like the way that her brother looked at me but she told me that it was okay and that he was just a little odd in the head. I told her that he kept trying to rub my skin and it made me uncomfortable, but she said the same thing to me. That Easton was just odd in the head.

I didn't think anything of it. He was my uncle and he swore up and down that he had my best interest at heart and that he wanted nothing but the best for me. I should've known what he meant by that. That same day that I told my mother that I really didn't like her brother at all, it all changed for me once day turned into night and he somehow crept his way into my room when everyone else was sleeping.

He raped me.

That damn asshole forced himself inside of me. He didn't care that I was begging him to stop, or that I was bleeding so much. He didn't care that I was crying and telling him that I didn't want it. He only said that I would soon like it if I just kept quiet and being as small as I was then, there was no way that I could fight him off. The only thing that I could do was look in my sister's eyes as she stared from the closet of my room, eyes filled with tears as she muffled her cries, hoping that someone would do something to help me.

In a few years, I should be over it. It only happened once. It should be gone from my mind by then and I won't have to be reminded of how disgusting I felt afterwards, how much I hate men and their ludicrous ways.

But I'm not and I never would be.

It haunted me every day and it will for as long as I live.

n.r.l

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I didn't jump like I normally would have. I didn't hear the disgust in his voice as I closed the journal slowly, biting my lip to keep my whimper in. I couldn't even stop myself from shaking as I turned around gradually, feeling like I had been shot in the chest.

I looked into mismatched eyes, taking a step forward as I placed the journal on the dresser, those eyes clouding over as they made contact with the cover. "I see you've read it." Nishan's voice was hard as he folded his arms, stepping inside the room to close the door. He furrowed his brows, leaving no inclination or assumptions as to what he may be feeling, and that made everything else worse.

Though we were both wrong, I had completely misjudged this man. He was wrong for treating me the way that he did, but my gut feeling proved right that he had something to hide. There was something that his eyes were hiding and this was it. Nishan just stood there, no aggressive nature like always, staring at me with an unreadable expression. He had nothing to say, but I had an inkling that he just couldn't explain how he felt because after years of it being compiled upon, one after the other, you forget.

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