Memory has its own way of going back to you. And everything was clear to me. Every tiny detail was still fresh in my mind.
I painted another sunset, and then turned to look a full body mirror. I stared at my face, I AM pretty, I know that. In fact, I can get any boy I want, they'll surely think that I am so innocent and so fragile. Those are my assets, and I have used my innocence and fragilty to satisfy my revenge.
I touched my face and then closed my eyes, traces from the past which left a grave scar within me, came shedding through my head, and the same pain came tearing up that scar again……..
I was born in a home where you may not understand, a home where I never felt any affection, only hatred and cruelty.
My name is Leena Klammer.; a healthy 10-year old girl who was once a cheerful and bright kid.
Although I grew up with only my 8-year old sister Syrah as a close companion, I never complained. My mother and father always wrangle with each other, almost everyday, so to avoid getting up between their unending miserable quarrels, Syrah and I usually go to a nearby pond where we would stay and talk for a few hours.
I was contented with the daily routine of our life…..
Until, a young lady named Hannah, came into our family. She was 10 years older than me, which makes her 20. Father brought her home one day from work; he said that she was an orphan whom she found at the door of their office begging for alms.
Syrah and I exchanged looks. She doesn't look like an orphan. She was well-dressed and had a bright face; no sign of poverty. But we just shrugged that idea off and welcomed her.
When my mother arrived from her job, she was crossed. She said that Hannah was just an additional mouth to feed. Like before, mother and father argued again.
After that, everything went well, mother and father never talked about Father's adoption of Hannah. It was like Hannah's the angel who dropped by our lives to put an end to their fights. Mother and Hannah barely spoke; it seems that mother was just avoiding any argument to ensue in the household. However, father and Hannah seem to get along well. They always talk and laugh about as if they've known each other before.
Sometimes, jealousy would envelope my heart; Father was treating Hannah like she was his, he was giving him the love that was deprived from us. In fact, at times, I thought that he treats Hannah MORE than a daughter.
Well, I never expected a lot from him, he wasn't a good father to us, but he was a good father to Hannah, Hannah, and Hannah alone.
I know Syrah feels the way I feel too. I can sense her insecurity every time we hear father chortles with Hannah.
But one midnight, changed everything. Syrah and I sleep in the same room. I was awakened with deep groans and constant moaning. I got up from bed then tiptoed to the other room where Father is sleeping, mother wasn't home that time she had overtime for a week. As I came nearer and nearer to his room, the moans became louder and clearer, heavy breathings were already apparent to my ears.
I opened the door of my father's room slowly; I was shocked when I saw what's happening inside. Hannah was completely naked moaning intensely, while father was on top of her moving rapidly. They were kissing each other, or much properly called fucking each other.
Hannah's right hand was clutching the headboard of the bed while the other one was stroking his hair. My father slowly pushed his way into Hannah, filling her lazily, "God, Hannah you're tight," he told her in a strained voice.
"Hey, big daddy! Being slow and sensous is a pure torture... Uhmm...Do it now, don't you want your daughter to be happy?" Hannah moaned, seduction was the only emotion I can sense from her.
"Okay honey, Daddy will grant your wish!" Father replied moving faster , the bed shaked tremendously.
Thick tears rolled down my cheeks. I was speechless. My heartbeat raced and I almost throwed up. I ran up to my room, grabbed my bag and tugged Syrah's shoulders. I woke her up, and grasped her arms.
"Wake up, Syrah! We have to go! This is not our house anymore. Come on" I shouted. Syrah was wide awake now, and as if by mystic, Syrah understood what I was saying. She just paused for a while and followed me.
We crept outside the house and tried to find the office of our mother. I was going to tell her all about father's affair to Hannah.
When we turned around the corner two drunk men came to us and asked us if they can accompany us to our destination. We were frightened of course, but they insisted. When we opposed again, they grabbed our hands and pulled us to a dark alley.
They tried to rape us.
The man who lunged on top of me, shoved me unto the wall, and started kissing my neck. I shuddered in disgust. His smell was terrible. It was horribly revolting. On the other side of me ear, I can hear my sister's scream fading, as if she was taken somewhere away from me. Anger surged through my body as I pictured my sister crying helplessly. I squeezed my eyes shut and with all the strength left of me, I pushed the man forcefully and ran away from that place. Scurrying across streets, I tried to get help from other people but no one would believe me. They all thought I was a part of a new modus-operandi of some syndicate; that I was a spiteful kid who wants to steal their valuables. I didn't dare to go back to that place, and since then I never saw my sister.
I cried and screamed madly out of frustration. I was all alone now. All alone... Nevertheless, the thought of my mother looking for me gave me hope. I will tell her everything and we would search for Syrah and everything will be back to normal; but I was wrong. It wasn't long before I realized that none of my parents ever searched for both of us.
After a long exhausting walk, I slept inside a trash bin, afraid that I'll meet another intoxicated vato who'll try to rape me again.
That traumatic incident made me realize something, that boys are only fu****g playthings who like to play dolls.
It was completely devastating for me, however I was able to bear all that. I was able to endure the death-defying pain that loss brought. I was able to endure the loneliness that never left my side ever since my sister got lost. I've been through it all, all the terrifying experiences I thought that only nightmares can give. I have survived. It was very lucky of me. But if you define luck than you may say that I was unfortunate. I was grateful of myself fro being strong and non other. Not even to the so called GOD of mankind. I don't believe in Him now.
A week after that, I was brought to a mental hospital. The SAARNI INSTITUTE and that was when I began tormenting every family I come into.
I snapped my eyes open and clenched my fists. I will never forget that day, 'til the last minute of my miserably wretched life.
I fixed my hair and finished painting the sunset. My artwork was excellent, the blending and all that shading really captured the genuine picture of a near-twilight.
Well, fortunately, this is my last day in this goddamn orphanage filled with stupid children. The Colemans, my new adoptive family, will fetch me tomorrow. I smirked. Another family to ruin and a number lives will suffer damnation again.
You may hate me, but I don't care. I don't give a f**k about how many lives I have spolied. I just can't resist destroying other people's lives, just like how they've destroyed mine.
Now, may I ask you one simple question?
Do you blame me?
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
I AM NOT AN ATHEIST
Reviews are highly appreciated.
God Speed.