VERY IMPORTANT NOTE
(please read or you'll regret not doing it! I'm serious!)
I always wanted to write a fic about Sara's past. But not just one where Sara tells Catherine or any other member of the nightshit about what her father did to her. I mean a REAL one. One that happens when Sara was ten and has GRAPHIC SCENES OF ABUSE .
I checked on the website do see if people do publish fics like this one and they do, so i feel no regret in posting mine.
Most people don't like to read this so if you are one, please close this window and find another fic. For the ones who have stomach to read it, please tell what you think. I appreciate all the reviews except the ones who says 'you should never have write this' or something simmilar to that. I do not wish to harm anyone by posting this.
A special thanks to my beta for helping with this. It was a hard fic but the person did a great job on it. I will not say the name because I don't want you guys to get angry to this person or think low of her. And please dont think low of me either!
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If you read all this and still wants to give it a look...
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I could sense his eyes on me every time I walked around the house or did the dishes. In the beginning it was just to make sure I wasn't doing anything wrong but now he did it because he liked to watch me. His looks gave me creeps but there was no way I would say to him or anyone else He was my father even though he abuses me every time he feels like doing it.
No one knew what happened behind the front door of our house, actually their house. That was the number one rule of my father's long list of rules. And my mother, she didn't know what he did to me when she wasn't around. I remember like it was yesterday, the first time he touched me. My mother had gone out with my brother to celebrate his basketball game. They were all so proud of him even though he wasn't a good kid or had the best grades like I did. He was the perfect child they always wished for and I was not and never would be.
The door of my bedroom opened and I turned around to face him. There was no one else in the house so I knew it's him and I have to always look at him when he speaks to me. That was another one of his rules. He walked closer to the table where I was studying and pulled me off the chair to sit on the bed.
"You and I need to have a serious talk Sara" his said sounding calm.
I didn't know what he wanted to talk about and in fact, he never really wanted to talk Usually he would scream or hit me but no talking. So I waited for him to continue.
"There are two things a woman should do and do it right. Do you know what those are?" I shook my head from side to side but he probable already knew the answer and only wanted me to feel less smart around him. "She has to take good care of the house, cleaning and cooking. Your mother does it, sometimes better than others, but she does and I know she has been teaching you a few things, which is good."
"Yes, I know how to arrange the table, wash the dishes and take care of washing my own clothes" I replied, being proud of myself.
"No man wants a woman who does not do that, Sara. The other thing that she has to do right is to please the man she is with. Make him feel good, happy and proud of being with her."
"Why are you saying all this?"
"Because I can say whatever I want to you and because I think you are old enough to learn about this." He said, trying not to sound angry as he touched my hair.
I don't like his touch more than I like his words and I have a bad feeling about all this. "The sooner you understand, the better" he continued.
He pulled me up in front of him and smiled. A shiver ran through my body but I tried not to make a sound.
"Take off your clothes"
"What?"
"Take of your clothes I said" he swore making me jump.
He took a deep breath and said something I couldn't understand. Then he looked back at me and spoke with a sweet voice.
"You always have to do what the man asks you to, even though you don't want to. He owns you, so that gives him the right to ask for anything at any time."
"No one will ever own me!" I screamed in my head, but I didn't dare to speak.
"Now, let's start again. Pull off your clothes" I looked at my body and swallowed hard as I removed first my shirt then my pants. "Your panties too." I froze not wanting to do it. Whatever he was planning was going to be bad and I would not like it. He got ups and removed the panties himself. "Get in the bed," he said, slapping me hard and making my butt hurt.
He pulled himself on top of me and put his hand between my legs. "No, please," I begged him. I gasped as I realized what I just did and before I could say sorry he slapped me in the face. I looked away, crying.
"What did I say about not doing what I ask?"
"To never do that," I answered, trying to erase some of his anger.
I closed my eyes when he separated my legs, still touching me. It hurt but I didn't say anything. He spat on my center as his tongue touched me there. I didn't know what he was trying to do but it was not a good thing. Miss Kimble (my English teacher) once said that no adult has the right to touch a kid like that unless they are doctors or nurses and my father is none of them.
I screamed when I felt an amount of pain as he forced his finger inside of me. He silenced me with his big, ugly hand, and continued, again, and again, and again. The only things I did were cry and wait. Wait for the pain to go away.
Finally he stopped and when I opened my eyes he was looking at me with a smile on his face. The one he always showed to Adam when he was proud of something he did. I jumped off the bed and tried to open the door and run but it was locked. I looked at him with fear, tears still running down my cheeks. He laughed at me and got off the bed.
"You really think you can run from me?" he asked. I ran to the other side of the room but he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me toward the bed again.
"I taught you how he is going to touch you, most of the times. Now I'm going to teach you how to touch him."
I tried to get free but he was too stronger then me.
He stopped in front of the bed and took off his belt. He opened his pants, pulling it down onto his knees and I gasped as I saw something big under his underwear. "Oh no, no!" I saw what he had done to my mother the other day and how much he had hurt her when pulling that thing inside of her.
"Why are you so afraid Sara? You think I'm going to put this in you? No, that's for another day. Lick it."
"What? He can't think I'm going to…"
"Lick it." he repeated, pushing my head down to his thing. I knew there was no way I was going to get free unless I did what he asked. I closed my eyes and passed my tongue over his thing. It tasted like nothing. "Again" he said and I did it. "Open your mouth"
"Oh God, no."
"Open it" he screamed, pulling my hair up hard.
That worked in to his favor and he pulled his thing inside of my mouth. I tried to pull my mouth away but every time I did he would force me back. When his thing hit my throat I felt like I was going to puke but I knew I couldn't. He would get mad at me and hit me or worse.
"That's it, Sara, good girl."
I always wanted him to say I was a good girl, but now that he said it, it only made me wish him to shut the hell up. Shut up. I cried and cried as I tried not to puke. He pulled my head back and spilled something into my mouth ad onto my face. I had never tasted something so horrible before.
"I think it is enough for today," he said putting his clothes back on. "Actually, one more thing, in order to do things the right way you always have to practice." And after he said that, he left.
I felt something was wrong with my stomach as I tried to get up from the floor but before I could I threw up on the carpet. I sobbed even harder, knowing that now I would have to clean this up before he or my mother would see or smell it.
Back to the present… I finish my task in the kitchen in silence. Any loud sound and someone will come and hit me and I didn't want that to happen. I go upstairs to have a shower before I go and do my homework. I have lots of them thanks to Miss Kimble. She always likes to talk to me before school and if I had to guess, she is probable the only person who even likes me.
One day she asked me my afternoon had been and I said it was okay, although that was a big lie. I had been late for dinner and I was punished for that pretty badly. I also said that my homework was too easy and she knew I was talking about math, so she talked to my teacher, Mister Takashima, and now he always gives more exercises to do at home. I like doing that because it keeps my head busy. I also like reading because of that, too. I always pick a book from the school library but not the ones kids of my age read. I'm ten. Those books are too nice and always have a happy ending, something that doesn't happen in normal life as my mother once told me. Instead, I pick science books, math books, chemistry books, sometimes biology books too. I feel good when reading them.
I hear the bathroom open and my father walks in. I hug my legs against my body, already knowing why he is here. I can't even lock the doors in the house if I don't want to get in trouble. Adam can't either, but it is not like he has to fear my parents like I do. My father sits on the bathtub behind me and tries to touch my hair but I flinch away. That does not stop him from doing it though. Without saying a word he gets the sponge and waters it before throwing the water on my hair and back. I bit my lips, fighting back the tears. I don't want to cry in front of him because that can be a bad thing to do. But I don't want him to touch me either.
He washes my neck, shoulder and back slowly, trying not to hurt me, but just the fact that he is doing that hurts me. Then, he washes both my arms and legs, although I keep them still close to me. Finally, he washes my chest and belly. Still holding the sponge he slides a hand across my chest and down between my legs. I try to run from him but only hit the end of the bathtub. I try to get up but he puts me down hard, his hands touching my center harder. What does he want with all this? I don't know but I just wish him to stop. Stop hurting me.
Putting the sponge away, he grabs one of my hands and puts inside his pants. He wants me to feel him, to touch him as he touches me. "God please, making him go away!" I pray in silence. She doesn't enter me this time but the pain it was like he had done it.
The door opens and closes again, and I burst in to tears. I hate him! But more than that, I hate myself for being weak, for being born in the first place. "Why, why didn't I die before she could give birth of me?"
Getting off the tub, I stop to look at myself in the mirror. My eyes are puffy and red and a single tear runs down my cheek. I wipe it away faster, not caring that I put more force than necessary. I open the drawer beside the sink and try to find the scissors my mom always uses to cut my hair, every time she feels like I need to have a hair cut. I hate that, too! I find it and stare at it as I open and close it. I force the blade in to my palm and watch the blood come out of the wound. There isn't much but it is not like I want to kill myself. I'm too weak for that. I just want to feel some other pain than the one between my legs.
Satisfied, I clean the scissors and put it back in place. I search for something to clean the wound (oh yes, I have been accidentally hurt so many times that I know how to take care of myself) and also something to hide the bruise. I'm sure I can come up with a good excuse for it, not that it needs much for them to believe me.
The sun comes out again and my nightmare begins. It's strange that I have nightmares not only at night but during the day too, don't you think? My clock shows 7.00 am I know I have to get up and go to school. It is the only time I can really be away from the house.
I pay attention to the class, hiding my left hand under the table. If my father could choose one of the hands to damage, he would have chosen the right one, the one I use to do practically everything with, but thank God that was not the case.
According to the school rules, no student is allowed to be in the classroom during playtime no exceptions, so during that time I go to my favorite place, behind a tree with a book in hand. I don't even notice the time passing until I hear the bell that signals the end of the playtime. After history, biology and grammar class, I head back home.
I enter the house and find my father in the living room. We both look at the clock to check how late I was, just five minutes. My entire body tenses anyway and I wait for the inevitable yelling, or the beating. But it never comes. My father simply turns his attention back to the TV and remains silent. I go upstairs to change my clothes and meet everyone in the kitchen.
Every time I would hear something like 'Where is daddy's little girl?' or 'How about we play?' or 'I have something for you' I knew he meant he was going to rape me. A few months after the first time, he had taught me what sex was really like and God that hurt more than anything I ever felt before. I promised myself to never let any man force me into have sex ever again. I was a kid but I wouldn't tolerate that kind of pain if I had a choice. Then he taught how man likes to take a woman from behind, where to touch, lick and suck a man's body. Everything you could think of it, I knew.
More than once my mother had to drag me to the hospital because I was in pain; my belly, my legs, arms or whatever and she always said it was my fault. I usually never look where I walk and got hurt pretty easily. After visiting the hospital twice, mom would take me to another so it would be another doctor who treated me. I guess she was afraid they could figure something out about the abuse. Not that she knew about the wrost that had happened.
Christmas was coming and it was not like I ever got any gifs or candy so why should I be happy about it? I wasn't. My mother managed to get my brother a Christmas present after getting my father's consent, of course. She could not spend one cent of his money expect for foods or clothes for them and Adam, any other thing she wanted to buy he had to agree. She bought him a bike and he was so happy that he went for a ride around the block and then teased me for not getting anything because I wasn't worthy of it.
My father came to my room and said that he had something for me. I waited for the gift, a.k.a some fun with him, but he didn't do it. He put a box on my bed and left, saying he wasn't going to do anything to me until the next year. He wanted to travel alone for a week to relax. That was the best present he could give me - a week of freedom. I stared at the box without knowing if I should open or not. Maybe it was some joke. Finally, after seconds of thinking I took the lid and threw in the floor. Inside there was a toy along with a piece of paper.
"To my favorite girl for her to practice while I'm gone." I threw the toy, the box, everything away in anger and hugged my pillow. "Idiot, Idiot, Idiot. How could you think he was going to give you anything that you liked, you idiot."
The New Year came and nothing indicated that things were going to change at my house but it did in the most brutal way.
One night, after my mother was asleep he came to my room. I wasn't sleeping in pants and panties anymore just to make things easier and to be over sooner. Sometimes it helped, sometimes it didn't. He was already inside me when the door opened again and my mother entered.
"What do you think you're doing?" she screamed. "Get off her," she screamed.
But my father didn't listen.
"I knew something was off when you stopped having sex with me, but I didn't think you would be cheating on me with her."
"Why not? She's better than you," he says smiling.
"What? You can't possibly think that this piece of shit is better than me!" Laura screamed, pushing him away from me. "How dare you!" she said, hitting his face.
"Oh no, this isn't good." I gasped
James looked at her really pissed and grabbed her by the arm and took her out of the room. I knew the consequences would be severe this time, so I got up from the bed and ran toward them. They were in the kitchen where he threw her against the sink and start hitting her really hard. I begged him to stop but he kept going. She would free herself only to be in his hand once again.
Suddenly there was silence. I saw my father looking down and back to his wife without saying a word. It was really strange. He tried to do something, but nothing happened. When he stepped back I saw the big knife she was holding. He fell to the floor, lots of blood coming out of him.
"You son of a bitch! You asshole! This wouldn't have happened if you didn't do that to me!" She said, pushing the knife in and out of him. I couldn't move. I couldn't believe she had killed him. Killed him!
The screams woke up my brother who ran downstairs. "What did you do?" he shouted in real anger.
"Don't you dare to move" she said, pointing the knife to him.
"What do we do Adam? What do we do?" I asked him, reaching for his arms to make him look at me. She could hurt him too and I didn't want that.
"Call 911!"
"But we're not supposed to use the phone."
"Damn it, Sara. Just do it. I'll deal with her."
"Oh, you think you have power over me, huh? Your beloved father can be dead but I'm still here. I'm still your mother and the owner of this house so you still have to respect me."
"You lost my respect when you did this. He may not be the best husband or father but he was the only one who was able to keep this family together. You ruined it all."
"No, he did. He ruined everything when he decided to play with your sister instead of me!"
"The cops are coming" I said as I got back to my brother. He looked at me with disgust and anger, just like my father would before he found some more useful to do with me, or so he said. Adam went upstairs, leaving me alone in the room. My mother was still holding the knife.
A bunch of sirens blared outside the house and three men's broke down the front door. My mother was still at his side, crying, as they took her away. One guy couldn't look at the kitchen floor and just run away. I thought it was weird but I didn't say anything.
"Are you ok, kid? Did she hurt you?" a man's voice asked. I looked at the man and blinked in confusion. "I'm Officer Stanford, are you hurt anywhere?" I shake my head 'no'. "Good."
"Adam, where are you going?" I watched as my brother walked away from the house with a bag behind his back. When did he go upstairs? "Don't leave me. Don't leave me here, please" I tried to get off the house too and go to him, but the officer who spoke to me stopped me.
"I'm sorry, but I can't let you leave"
"No, let me through" I said. I tried again but he wouldn't let go me. I started hitting him in the belly but he kept holding me. And then I couldn't do it anymore and fell on the floor, crying.
"It's ok sweetie, everything is going to be ok" I hear a woman saying to me but I don't look up. I can't. "My name is Alison" she says "What's your name?"
"I don't have a name" I answer her.
"That's ok. I'm sorry about what happen, sweetie. But trust me, everything will be ok now" she said extending her hand to cup my face but I don't let her. I push her hand away screaming 'stay away from me' and run to my room, closing the door with a bang. I threw myself on the bed and cried.
The door opened but I didn't look to the person. "Honey, I know you are hurting and that you would love to stay here, at your house, but you can't. You have to come with me to a place where you will be safe"
"Go away from here?" I asked and she just nods. I jumped off the bed and started pulling my clothes in a bag. I will finally be away from here. I looked at her with a smile before continuing my task. "Ok, I'm ready" I said.
"Ok then," she raised her hand up and I do the same.
We walked downstairs to the outside of the house. I stopped as I see so many people and police cars in front the house.
"Its ok, sweetie, just ignore them," she said to me. Alison opened the back door from a car and asked me to enter. I put a foot inside but stop from getting in as I stared at the woman. "What is it, honey?" I wanted to remember the face of the woman who took me away from the hell I live with. But I also wanted to ask something.
"What is going to happen with my brother?"
"He will probably have to give his statement about today's events in the station and then we will find someplace nice for him to stay. How old is your brother?"
"Eighteen."
"In that case, he will be able to live on his own, so we will just support him with some money, at least for a while until he finds a job." I nodded in understanding. I shouldn't be concerned about him after all the things he did or didn't do to me but he was my brother, the only one I had.
The first place we stopped was the hospital. I waited in the room until a doctor came to see me. His face looked familiar and that only made me angry. "You didn't see what was in front of your nose and look how things turn out?" I asked myself, not daring to say out loud. Alison pushed the doctor away probable to explain the things she wanted him to do. He nodded and left to call another person.
This new one, a woman, took pictures of my body without my clothes on and did the exams, including the internal exam.
The next stop was a cafeteria where Alison explained to me where I was going to live now and that I would have to talk the police as well, but she thought it was better to wait for a day or two. I told her no. I wanted to do this now so I don't have to think of it all again. So after the cafeteria we went to the police station. She held my hand as we walked through the glass door.
I could finally tell the truth without fearing they would come back and hurt me. No one would ever hurt me, especially not like that.
the end