CSA Survivor Story – 8.
She ran to her room. She knew it was time to hide. She knew he wouldn’t leave her if he got to her. She always avoided staying home when she had an idea he would drop by. Everyone assumed he was her favorite. He brought her all wonderful things she would want. He was calm and mature. He was just another normal looking fella. But she hated him. She had started thinking of torturous deaths for him. Not that she was capable of it. But whats the harm in wishing.
Then one summer he died. In the sea of his own misery. She was finally at peace until guilt started haunting her for wishing his death. She felt scarred, she felt helpless. Until the day she grew up to realize life and death was not in her hands. Dying at that time was his fate.
She never forgave him for scarring her. He had touched her in places she was not aware of letting a man touch. Her feeble voices were never heard. Her mother did not take her seriously. She would never forget the cigarette stink emanating as he tongued her, touched her, nuzzled her. She would never forget his hold, the tight grip, which never left a mark but scarred her. She hated his very being and everything associated with him. She hated the songs he sang even after he died for all the bad memories they brought along.
She just wished somebody had listened to her and she could have played a normal hide and seek game like any other nine year old rather than the one she was forced to play with her 40 year old uncle.