Whatever he was now, it wasn’t human. His eyes were empty, predatory, fixed on me like I was something to be taken, not a person.
“Let go,” I screamed. “Uncle—please—”
The word ‘uncle’ enraged him.
His hand came down hard across the side of my head. Pain exploded behind my eyes, bright and blinding, stars bursting across my vision.
I fought back with everything—scratching, kicking, twisting—desperate, terrified, refusing to lose myself like this. Refusing to become another story whispered about other girls.
The harder I fought, the harder he hit me.
Not my face.
My ears.
Again. And again.
Each blow landed with brutal precision, striking the sides of my head like a hammer against iron. A violent ringing floodedmy skull, growing louder, deeper, unbearable—like a bell being struck too close, too hard.
I screamed, but my voice felt trapped inside me, swallowed by the walls, by the pain, by the growing roar in my head.
Something warm began to drip down my neck.
I didn’t understand it then.
Later, I would learn it was blood.
The world started to fade—not darkness, but sound. His breathing. His grunts. His voice. The room itself. Everything drained away until all that remained was a thick, suffocating silence that pressed in on me from all sides.
I clawed at him with what little strength I had left, tried to twist away, tried to make him see me, make him stop—but my body betrayed me. I was trapped inside it, screaming into a void that no longer answered back.
When it was over, the world was gone. Gone into a ringing void.
I lay there shaking, staring at the ceiling as dawn crept in, unable to hear his footsteps, his curses, even my own breathing.
That was the night I lost more than my innocence.
That was the night silence claimed me.
The next morning, I tried to speak. I tried to tell my aunt what had happened. My words were jagged, trembling shards of sound, broken by fear and shock. I stuttered, pleaded, clawed for her attention, for understanding.
She didn’t even pause.
The slap landed across my face like a thunderclap. My vision exploded white, my cheek burning with humiliation and pain.
“How dare you!” she hissed, each word drawn out, venom dripping from her tongue. “How dare you try to destroy my marriage! You’re jealous. Sick. Always needing attention!”
Her hands yanked my suitcase from the closet and hurled it onto the lawn like it was garbage.
“Get out.”
Just like that.
I gathered my luggage, hands trembling, tears streaming so freely it felt like my face might never be dry again.
No friend. No relative. Only the echo of those words chasing me down the stairs.
Months passed in survival mode.
