Chapter 11
I came into the America through the most inhumane way I could think of. I left my child, a product of rape, in Mexico, to look for a greener pasture and escape the cruel work of my hands. David, my son, didn’t even know me. I had to abandon him, a week after I gave birth to him, to flee to America.
My mother remarried when I was fourteen, but she ended up marrying a jerk who beats her up almost every day. My mom wasn’t even working, and Carlos, my step dad, didn’t relent in reminding her of how he feeds her and me, the slut. That’s the name he always calls me, even though, at that time, I was virgin. Nobody believed I was a virgin anyways.
Then, a time came that my mom was in a coma- Carlos ensured that. He lied to the paramedics that she feel from the stairs. I was right inside my room when they began their usual arguments. I couldn’t know what caused the arguments because for a while, they were busy having sex and my mom was screaming for more- she always does that, to my amusement.
When the arguments began, I took my headphone and sealed off my ears with a song from Tupac Amaru Shakur. I was sure that within minutes, the arguments would be over with- as always. And mom would always wake up the next day with a black eye and a smile on her face, inviting everyone for dinner! But that day was different. I woke up and couldn’t found my mom- not in the kitchen or her room.
Carlos came in later and told me that my mom had an accident and she had been admitted into the hospital. I ran to the hospital and found her there, right on the bed, lifeless like a log of wood. I cried and screamed at her that I have told her to leave that dick of husband. But mom has always talked about divorce not being an option.
I got home and charged towards Carlos. He was fast, we ducked and gave a slight push that sent me crashing into the furniture. Before I could say jack, Carlos pinned me down and punch the living hell out of me. I begged him to stop but he didn’t until I passed out. I woke up later with a swollen face, a black eye and a sharp pain between my legs. I slip my hands under my skirt and realized that my pants were gone! The fear of my thought made me slid my hands further in, it was wet, with my blood. Carlos had raped me. I rushed to the door and pulled at it, screaming and slamming it with my fist. The door was locked. I cried and cursed without a reply.
For weeks, Carlos chained me in the basement and raped me continuously. I was constantly drugged. Even when I was observing my period, the jerk never stopped. I was locked up and couldn’t go to school. He told everyone that I absconded. Then one day, he said to me after the usual forceful sex, that he would let me go if only I keep my mouth shut. I agreed and he said if I told my mom, he would kill us both. I believed him. Who wouldn’t? Carlos was huge, incomplete set of teeth, a thug and a bully with a scare face and bullet wound scars.
‘How’s my mom?’ I asked in a faint voice.
‘She would be discharged tomorrow.’ He said as he climbed the stairs of the basement. ‘I told her you ran away from the house. I guess it wouldn’t be bad if I told her you are back, right?’ He smiled.
I nodded slowly as I removed the unlocked shackles from my feet. It was bruised and swollen with puss.
‘You got a story?’
I nodded again.
‘Good. I don’t want to hear it. Go upstairs and take your bathe- you stink. It’s been three months!’ He said without remorse.
I started to cry. Three months of my life wasted in the basement. Raped and drugged every day.
Mom came back home, I couldn’t even face her. For some reason, I was guilty and felt she would see what I have been up to, right in my eyes- so, I avoided eye contact. Carlos acted normal and was all over mom like he was nice to have her back. Maybe he forgot that he was said that he wished my mom would not come back so that he could rape me all his life!
One month after I was released from captivity, I fell sick. The doctor said I was two months pregnant. I fainted- it was Carlos’s. My mom was disappointed in me. The story was that I got impregnated when I ran away from home. To make it worse, abortion was illegal and that makes it expensive! Mom, a staunch catholic, refused to support abortion and Carlos scorned me with a smirk every time.
He would always slip into my room and threaten me not tell mom. If I did, he would kill us both. I just had to believe him because he was a devil. What he did to me for three months would testify to that. I was helpless and the abomination grew inside of me; against my will. I did nothing but cried. Then I tried to prostitute to raise the cash. I would walk for two miles every day to the basketball court in the neighbouring town- every night to flaunt my beauty. There was always one, who would be willing to pay for sex. I had sex in toilets, bushes, on the car trunk, in the car and so on, but no one ever paid me enough. They practically fucck’d me but I never got paid for the money we agreed on!
Within a month, everyone at the court already knew who I was and they took me for granted because they told each other that I was a dunce who get fuccked but never get paid. I told myself to quit after I got beaten thrice for asking for my money after sex. I counted the money on me. I was sure it was enough, so, proceeded to a doctor, who told me that I haven’t even made half of what I needed. I broke down in tears and had no choice but to keep the baby. It was already four months old.
END OF 11
I came into the America through the most inhumane way I could think of. I left my child, a product of rape, in Mexico, to look for a greener pasture and escape the cruel work of my hands. David, my son, didn’t even know me. I had to abandon him, a week after I gave birth to him, to flee to America.
My mother remarried when I was fourteen, but she ended up marrying a jerk who beats her up almost every day. My mom wasn’t even working, and Carlos, my step dad, didn’t relent in reminding her of how he feeds her and me, the slut. That’s the name he always calls me, even though, at that time, I was virgin. Nobody believed I was a virgin anyways.
Then, a time came that my mom was in a coma- Carlos ensured that. He lied to the paramedics that she feel from the stairs. I was right inside my room when they began their usual arguments. I couldn’t know what caused the arguments because for a while, they were busy having sex and my mom was screaming for more- she always does that, to my amusement.
When the arguments began, I took my headphone and sealed off my ears with a song from Tupac Amaru Shakur. I was sure that within minutes, the arguments would be over with- as always. And mom would always wake up the next day with a black eye and a smile on her face, inviting everyone for dinner! But that day was different. I woke up and couldn’t found my mom- not in the kitchen or her room.
Carlos came in later and told me that my mom had an accident and she had been admitted into the hospital. I ran to the hospital and found her there, right on the bed, lifeless like a log of wood. I cried and screamed at her that I have told her to leave that dick of husband. But mom has always talked about divorce not being an option.
I got home and charged towards Carlos. He was fast, we ducked and gave a slight push that sent me crashing into the furniture. Before I could say jack, Carlos pinned me down and punch the living hell out of me. I begged him to stop but he didn’t until I passed out. I woke up later with a swollen face, a black eye and a sharp pain between my legs. I slip my hands under my skirt and realized that my pants were gone! The fear of my thought made me slid my hands further in, it was wet, with my blood. Carlos had raped me. I rushed to the door and pulled at it, screaming and slamming it with my fist. The door was locked. I cried and cursed without a reply.
For weeks, Carlos chained me in the basement and raped me continuously. I was constantly drugged. Even when I was observing my period, the jerk never stopped. I was locked up and couldn’t go to school. He told everyone that I absconded. Then one day, he said to me after the usual forceful sex, that he would let me go if only I keep my mouth shut. I agreed and he said if I told my mom, he would kill us both. I believed him. Who wouldn’t? Carlos was huge, incomplete set of teeth, a thug and a bully with a scare face and bullet wound scars.
‘How’s my mom?’ I asked in a faint voice.
‘She would be discharged tomorrow.’ He said as he climbed the stairs of the basement. ‘I told her you ran away from the house. I guess it wouldn’t be bad if I told her you are back, right?’ He smiled.
I nodded slowly as I removed the unlocked shackles from my feet. It was bruised and swollen with puss.
‘You got a story?’
I nodded again.
‘Good. I don’t want to hear it. Go upstairs and take your bathe- you stink. It’s been three months!’ He said without remorse.
I started to cry. Three months of my life wasted in the basement. Raped and drugged every day.
Mom came back home, I couldn’t even face her. For some reason, I was guilty and felt she would see what I have been up to, right in my eyes- so, I avoided eye contact. Carlos acted normal and was all over mom like he was nice to have her back. Maybe he forgot that he was said that he wished my mom would not come back so that he could rape me all his life!
One month after I was released from captivity, I fell sick. The doctor said I was two months pregnant. I fainted- it was Carlos’s. My mom was disappointed in me. The story was that I got impregnated when I ran away from home. To make it worse, abortion was illegal and that makes it expensive! Mom, a staunch catholic, refused to support abortion and Carlos scorned me with a smirk every time.
He would always slip into my room and threaten me not tell mom. If I did, he would kill us both. I just had to believe him because he was a devil. What he did to me for three months would testify to that. I was helpless and the abomination grew inside of me; against my will. I did nothing but cried. Then I tried to prostitute to raise the cash. I would walk for two miles every day to the basketball court in the neighbouring town- every night to flaunt my beauty. There was always one, who would be willing to pay for sex. I had sex in toilets, bushes, on the car trunk, in the car and so on, but no one ever paid me enough. They practically fucck’d me but I never got paid for the money we agreed on!
Within a month, everyone at the court already knew who I was and they took me for granted because they told each other that I was a dunce who get fuccked but never get paid. I told myself to quit after I got beaten thrice for asking for my money after sex. I counted the money on me. I was sure it was enough, so, proceeded to a doctor, who told me that I haven’t even made half of what I needed. I broke down in tears and had no choice but to keep the baby. It was already four months old.
END OF 11
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