On The Lips. Part 4

A story of a young girl who went through trying times but still found courage to carry on.

…the following night my mother had to go work. He came into my room again.  Laid on the bed and asked me if I remembered what he had said last night. I said yes, I did. I didn’t understand the next question, he asked me if I wanted to make him happy…pause. How was a child supposed to make him happy? Should I sing a song? Should I stop looking for trouble? I still didn’t know how but I said yes anyway. He asked again, are you sure you want to make me happy? Yes I said. He leaned in and kissed me. I mean on the lips. Not on the forehead or cheek like he had always done. On the lips.

He stopped to look at me, I simply stared back. He told me not to scream or say anything. I nodded. He fondled my chest as I barely had any breasts at that time. I laid as still as a corpse as my body, my little body was gradually abused. He just touched me that night because I still had my period, nothing major happened or at least that was what I thought. I didn’t ever imagine the sort of emotional trauma it would have on me.  Blood stopped coming out of me, I dreaded what that meant for me. We went to stay with my mother’s sister for a week. In the past, I used to love coming here. They were still happy here, it was infectious. Now, it was a safe haven for me, away from the monster that had become of my father. I grew very morose. At the end of the week, we went back home. When I greeted my father he a look in his eyes that said, “I’ve been waiting for you”. I trembled. The next day, my mother was on night duty at the hospital. I knew what was going to happen, he was going to come and repeat what he had done the first time. I braced myself, it started with a kiss, he took off my night gown. Then my panties. This was when I knew that this was worse than what happened the first time. I felt something go in. ouch, I cringed. There was a hole under me and he seemed to have slid a finger inside. Pain seared through me, I couldn’t scream. Tears streamed down my eyes. He kept at it, jabbing his fingers into me, again and again and again. Then, it was time for the grand finale, he had a rod on his body, whether it was attached to him or he was holding it, I couldn’t exactly tell. The rod went in, just like his fingers had done. The pain, I cannot forget till this day. It was as though someone was pouring ground pepper on an open wound. It stung. It was very rough. The movement gave me a headache. Up down up down up down. Just when I thought I couldn’t take it any more, it stopped. He got up from the bed and left my room.

The next day, I woke up and my body felt like a 100 cows had stampeded over me. I felt so sore. I felt as though my limbs had been disjointed. I used all the power I could summon to get up. Walking was hell. What had my father done to me? Was this normal? Was there really no one I could tell my ordeal? I cried a lot. Not because of what he had done to me, but because of the thoughts they brought to my mind. You see, the pain was more than I could bear. I thought of leaving home, running away. Leaving this sad life behind me and starting again, if I even could. Could I leave my mother at the mercy of this man? If I did run away, would I ever see my brothers again? Little Tolu. Would I ever see him again? How would my running away affect them? They most likely would never remain the same. Who was thinking about me? Why did I have to be the one to think about everyone else? Nobody knew what I was going through. There was nobody to talk to about it. It was driving me mad. When I saw my mother’s face later that afternoon, it brought tears to my eyes. I had made my mind up. I was leaving. She asked what was wrong, but I couldn’t say it, I didn’t want to cause her more pain. How could I tell her what her husband had done to me? I just couldn’t. I could only cry. She soon started crying with me, as if she understood. I guess she must have. I really wanted to know her thoughts as she cried. I matured in tears. I had to do it soon, or I would lose the nerve. I decided to do it tomorrow. It was set.


  1. This really got me… It’s terrible what happens to a man when he loses himself altogether but even more terrible the things he could do in that wanderer spirit… This girl fictional or not is an idea of a peek into the lives of many…. This has to stop