Emilianna's p.o.v
He was in my room again; my aunt was asleep after another long shift. I moved out of the bed clutching a pillow close to my chest thinking that that would keep him away. My eyes watered, my body trembled but on his face was a satisfied smile that sent shivers down my spine.
I was in trouble and I knew and he knew I knew that I knew. I had started wearing pants to sleep because I felt like it gave me a little advantage but boy was I wrong. He didn't stop... no matter how much I begged him to he didn't. my pleas fell to deaf ears and my screams were no louder than whimpers now.
I remember like it was just a few seconds ago when adrenaline pumped through my body forcing me into biting his arm as he tried to muffle my screams for help, but I ended up getting hit across the face and my clothes ripped off me. I cried and struggled as his hands touched me and where I knew he wasn't supposed to touch. I was taught no one was supposed to touch me but that knowledge didn't help me then and there. Any time he tried to touch me and I tried moving away, he waged a finger in my face and said
"you are being a bad bad girl" I shook my head with tears flowing down my face telling him that I wasn't then he'll tell me to be a good girl for him but I didn't want to be a good girl for him. I just wanted to be left alone to sleep like every other child my age was doing right then.
The first time it happened I remember him holding a blade to my throat and telling me not to let our secret get out. He said not to tell anyone of our fun little game or they would want to play with us too. I didn't know what game he was trying to play with the knife but I wasn't happy to play with him. He scared me with that knife and told me to be quiet or the knife will have fun with me as well. I cried myself to sleep every night after that for a month, afraid that the same thing was going to happen then one day I let it out to my aunt who stayed home while her husband was away for a few days.
"Auntie" I called out to her and she hummed in response. I wondered if I was doing the right thing by telling her
"i-i---i- some- " I started mumbling- still uncertain of what I was about to do.
"what is it?" she asked me dropping the knife she was holding and turning to me. She gave me all her attention. I tried again but I was so scared but did I have to be scared? she was my aunt at least that had to count for something.
"some—someone to-tou—touc—touched m-m-m-me" I said trying to be strong, but it came out lower than a whisper. She looked confused at me, a little thirteen-year-old who hadn't even had her first period. She pulled a chair next to me and held my hands. "tell me, dear, when was this" she said calmly. I thought this was going well. She's listening to me and the warmth in my chest grew as she held me patiently waiting for me to talk to her.
"l-l-l-las--t m-mon-th. T-hat ni-night". I said. Trying hard not to recall the events of the night that haunted me.
"Do you know who did it?" she asked and I nodded. Dread filled the pit of my stomach as I wondered how she would take the news.
"tell me love who did it". my asked. Subtly asking me to speak but I was still hesitant.
"uncle-" I breathed out hoping I didn't have to repeat it.
"Which uncle?"
"Uncle Henry" is said in a whisper. I saw her face pale. Her grips on my hands became tighter cutting off my blood circulation. Now I was scared. my heart thudded painfully against my chest as if trying to escape its cage as I watched her facial expression contort.
"Your uncle Henry?" she asked slowly and I sniffed and nodded. Then and there her eyes turned even colder and before I knew what was happening, I was thrown off the stool as her palm met my cheek with brutal force. I tasted the blood in my mouth as I moved away.
"Your ungrateful girl! How can you tell a lie like that? and to think I thought of listening to you" she said laughing like we just shared a classic joke in the end. She took off her flip flops and hurled them my way. I ran to the corner of the kitchen and hugged my knees to my chest, my breathing labored as I watched her hurl things in my direction from where she stood.
Things were not supposed to turn out this way she was supposed to help me as far as I knew so why did she think I was lying. I knew I wasn't lying but she was making think he was right and he could never hurt me. Well, I thought he would never hurt me but I was wrong anyway. I should have kept it to myself and let him touch me. Once no one knew I would be fine right? So why- why did I have to speak? I should have listened to uncle, I should have been quiet about everything then we would all be normal. Aunt wouldn't know and she would still like me. Now she wouldn't love me anymore.