No One Told This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

January 5, 2012
By
I don’t know why I was hit. I guess in the coils of time that detail has escaped me. I was frequently “whipped,” as my family called it, like something out of Huck Finn, with a broad leather belt and its silver buckle with three eagles.

Sobbing, I tried in vain to protect my backside and legs from the striking lash that retreated and returned again and again. His anger was plain as he shoved me into my room, unbuckling the thick belt with jerky motions, rage hanging about his body like a bleeding hurricane. I remember being slammed into the wall, my mind frozen with fear. I struggled, my face rammed into the cold, eggshell-white wall; my cheek pushed so that my eye was forced shut.

One arm brutally kept me from running away while the other jerked the belt back and unleashed hatred.

I screamed, crying out apologies, anything. I wanted mercy and for the blows to stop, for it to end. Pain! Pain … I was a terrified animal trapped in a cage.

It ended, tears tumbling down my cheeks as I leapt away from him, stumbling, retreating … my chest heaving, choking on tears and my own breath … across the room, away from danger.

Hate. Fear. Pain. Confusion.

I couldn’t sleep; it hurt so much. I couldn’t sit; the bruises wouldn’t allow it. At school I teetered nervously, scared, in pain. No one asked. No one cared, it seemed. Wasn’t it obvious? Didn’t I wince?

I knew it was wrong, what my father did. I knew. But I was scared; I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to help myself. A light flickered in my mind; I wanted to tell someone. Anyone. I wanted them to know. To pity me. To save me. To help me.

I shared my secret with friends. “Don’t tell anyone,” I said, hoping they would. I feared rejection and misunderstanding, but I was crying for help; I needed them to betray my trust.

“I knew you were going to say something like that!” Jenny said when I told them what was happening. Fear was on their faces. I made them swear not to tell.

No one told, yet how much they should have. How much I needed them to. How much more I would suffer.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

unwantedninja said...
Jan. 6, 2012 at 8:58 am
never let anyone destroy your spirit>call for help ....dont be scared...never let anyone abuse u< speak out ! very amazing story brought me on the verge of tears
 
mymakersdaughter said...
Jan. 5, 2012 at 3:43 pm
wow...this is so sad yet unfortunately so true...my mom was abused as a girl and everything that she tells me makes me want to cry. great piece! this can really reach out to people.
 
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