Unscrambled eggs

It was two in the afternoon. I could hear the noises outside. People were crying; they were upset. I wasn’t upset… just scared. I knew things would change and hoped for good. That night I locked myself up so that no one can see me. As it is, I am not very good around people, I haven’t had a decent conversation with someone in three years. The following morning was the ceremony at the church. I wore an ill-fitted black dress that belonged to my mother. When I reached the church they asked me to say a few words about her, I stood up and felt a lump in my throat. I didn’t know her. I never liked her. She never was there for me; she saw what dad did to me, yet never interfered. “I will miss her.” I lied. I just knew what they wanted to hear. There was a big lunch at home; I hadn’t eaten properly in years. I picked up a big slice of cake and started eating in one corner. People gave me and my dad sympathising looks. I looked at my dad and knew he was upset, whatever he did with me for all these years… but he loved her. The day he found she had cancer and she wouldn’t live, he held me and cried all night. It was right after that it all started. Three years back, still as clear as yesterday. My mom came into my room and explained to me that from now on my dad will love me a little more. I had not understood then as I was just thirteen. She held me and cried and kept giving me pills so I don’t get pregnant. I don’t blame her entirely, he would beat both of us and she feared he would kill me if I don’t let him have sex with me.
I loved him and assumed that he loved me and did all that because he loved me more. I had always known that I was adopted, but even as a kid he used to take me to play and help me with my homework. While mom was always out with her work or friends, she never was home for my birthdays. I never took her side when dad and she used to fight, not even when I knew dad was wrong. I always thought dad should have left her,
till she got very ill. I felt bad for her. I used to help her during the day, and in the night dad used to come drunk and would beat her up. Then he used to come in my room and have sex with me. He used to hit me as blood excited him more. I felt so guilty that I stopped talking to anyone in school. My grades were affected and everyone assumed it was because my mother is ill. He was a respected man and no
one would ever think of him doing such things about him. After everyone had left, I went to take a shower and changed into something casual. I could hear him talk to someone on phone and my head was swirling, so I lied down on the bed that once felt safe, but was not anymore. I slept off. After an hour I got up with a start. I saw him coming in. I was scared. I pretended to sleep but that didn’t help, he knew I was up. He told me that from that day on I would be staying in his room. For a minute, I thought he was a changed person and would apologise, but I was not
prepared to take his wife’s position. I knew I couldn’t say no, or else he would beat me.
He used to tell me that I had no one except him, no one in this world loved me and sex is the only thing I am good at. I was scared and knew with mom not around he would have his way with me whenever he wanted.I was scared but I submitted to him. That night after I dinner I went to his room. He came following me and pushed me to the bed he removed his clothes and pulled my night-gown up. I tried to block my thoughts, otherwise I would feel sick and that would excite him more. He used to get excited if I was sick, or even when I had periods. I felt him go deep in me. He applied so much force that I thought I would die. After he was done, he lied there on me while I could feel his heavy breath on my face. He got up and kissed me on my cheeks, he always did that when I was good.I love it when he does that, it assures me that he still loves me.
I tried to sleep but couldn’t. I knew things would not be the same; I would never be the same. My dad has always liked collecting whiskies and wines. The oldest one he had was a 38 years-old bottle of whiskey. I opened the bottle and drank it. It burnt my throat. It started to itch but the pain I felt inside me was far more. I drank and drank and puked all over, I lighted up a cigarette for myself, but not with the intention to smoke. I put it on my arm. It pained so much that I thought I would die. Nothing could soothe my pain today. I went for a shower to clean myself. Nevertheless, I felt dirty. the soap wasn’t able to clean me. I ran back to the kitchen shelf, I was still wet. I picked up a knife and took it to my room. Pushing the drapes to the sides of the window and seeing the stars made me feel safe. I sat there teary eyed as I felt the sharp knife slice into my skin. I cut myself till I was drowsy and soon I peacefully slept off on my bed which was once the safest place in the whole world.