Since my childhood until now, in my adulthood, I have never experienced so-called stability. Every day, we have to fight for money and everything else. The struggle to earn money so that I could provide a better life for everyone around me was so difficult that it was next to impossible. Loans that I took from the local sharks keep adding up, and my financial situation keeps worsening day by day. I have seen days when my mother and I used to sleep on the local bus depot, and there was nothing to eat. When we needed our people, the people who were connected to us by blood—the so-called family we talk about—turned their back on us. My own maternal-side family as well as my paternal-side family refuse to take us in. When I thought that nothing would change, my dad left us, and he even took some money from someone and just ran away. This was already a lot to take when people started coming to our house and threatening my mother to either pay up or they would kill both of us.
This made me sad, and I started doubting God's existence. If God is there, then why is he not helping us? Why is he ignoring us and letting us suffer such disaster? When I was in 4th grade, people tried to kidnap me from my house. Luckily, it was daytime, and my mother had just gone out to get some groceries, so she made it in time. The hooligans who came to kidnap me threatened her and said, "If you want to keep your son alive, you better pay up or else we will sell his organs one by one till we get all our money back." These words still haunt me at night, and that was the first time I experienced the true meaning of fear and helplessness. I used to skip school and hide myself so that I would never get kidnapped again. But one day something happened, and that was the day when everything changed.
I just completed 4th grade and was enjoying my vacation. Those days were the only ones when I actually enjoyed myself or could say I smiled. On one such day, we had visitors, and those visitors were none other than those sharks. It was a couple from whom my father had taken money, and God knows where that money has been spent. But that was the last time I smiled. From that point on, life had something big or worse on its plate for me. I was too young to know what was going on, but adults were talking in a different room, and they were talking quite loudly. Soon that couple left, and at night I was tired too to ask mother what had happened. My eyes are already heavy, so I slept without knowing what had happened. Another day started, and as usual, my mother and dad left for work. I'm not sure where they work or if they're even working. Because whenever I have tried to talk about it with my mother, she always avoids it with excuses. One day, my mother returned home, and my dad was nowhere to be seen. Soon, a whole week passed, and there was still no contact from dad. My grandparents started cursing my mother, saying that she was the reason their son had left. They put all the blame on her, even though they knew it was their son's fault in the first place. After a whole month, when there was no one left, my mother approached the couple from earlier who had visited my house a month ago. My mother, trusting them, took me and my sister with her to visit the couple. We were also carrying some clothes with us because she thought it might take time to find my dad and we may have to live with that couple. With the increasing cursing and abusive talk of my grandparents, my mother was left with no choice but to follow that couple. Sooner or later, we were about to realize that we had been set up and were going to be trapped by that couple.
After one week, we manage to locate my dad, but that is the only thing my mother reveals. And my dad asked that couple to keep my mother, my sister, and me with them, and he would return with money and take us back home. But that was just a false promise, and he was on the run again. When days turned into weeks, then months, that couple started showing their true colors. First, they started making fun of us, and then slowly, when they realized that making fun of us was boring, they started beating us for fun. They used to beat us and forced us to show laughing face while they beat us. We are not even allowed to show the pain we are suffering on our face. If we didn't laugh when they were beating us, they threatened to kill us. With no choice left and tears in our eyes, we both make smiling faces. When that was not enough for them, they started sexually abusing my younger sister, who was just 3 or 4 years old at the time. To make our mother experience pain, they played with us like toys, forcing horrible things. They used to throw my sister on the iron bed with force multiple times. This affected her so much that she started experiencing hell in dreams, and what was much worse was that she started acting weird like some mentally challenged person. But that was just the surface; at night, they used to rape my mother countless times. My mother suffered everything without letting a single voice come out of her. And when they saw that my mother was not reacting to their cruelty, they tried to torture her more. Somehow, by the grace of God, we managed to come out of that hell with the help of our stepfather. And we were so thankful to him for that. And everything was very happy around us. We were still poor, but we were happy. But life was against our happy face. Soon, my mother got pregnant with our stepfather and had a child. And I came to know that my mother was suffering from physical abuse from our stepfather. My mother tried to commit suicide not once, not twice, but three times. But we were helpless; we were small kids, and my mother stopped us from confronting to my stepdad about this, saying that he saved us and we had no right to raise our voice against him.
I always listened to my mother, so I never crossed my line and always suffered in darkness. But then she took poison again, and this time my anger just exploded. And I was ready to kill my stepfather. I kicked the bedroom door and threatened him that if anything happened to my mother, you would be dead. He attacked me as soon as I said that, and in return, I slapped him hard. But I was in a different trance at that time. We first transferred my mother to the hospital, and I made some calls to kill my stepfather that day. I was ready to face the consequences. But before I could act, my mother regained consciousness, and she stopped me from killing my stepfather. Our lives kept going through torture and brutality until I turned 25. But the problem of money was still there, and it was a lot to handle. I was breaking apart, and there is no way to get money from anywhere. Loan sharks were hunting us. And home loans were going up. I was on the verge of breaking again. Then suddenly I realized that if I died in any way, like in an accident or anything, my home would be free from loan and would be given to my family. With that idea in mind, I started planning my suicide, which might look like an accident.