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Because of who I am and what my profession is, I get these judgemental looks that I should be used to by now, but I am not. I carry this confident facade but on the inside, it is hurting. ‘It doesn’t matter, they can only judge but they know nothing about me,’. I keep on telling this to myself.
5 years have passed but the flashback of what happened to me still keeps haunting me. I remember each and every detail of that night. Watching everyone with a happy family kills me. Usually, parents are supposed to love their children but I had a whole different life. I rest my head on my knees and cry as those memories come rushing back to me. I wake up panting and sweating hard with all the nightmares.
-‘PLEASE STOPP, YOU’RE MY FATHER. YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO LOVE ME, NOT DO THIS TO ME. SOMEONE, PLEASE HELP.’
-‘STOP SCREAMING… YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A FILTHY PIECE OF TRASH’.
I kept on shouting but no one came to rescue me from the devil who was actually my father.
-‘PLEASE, I BEG YOU, PLEASE DON’T DO THIS TO ME’
He kept hitting me over and over again. All I could smell was alcohol and all I could taste was my salty tears and a metallic taste of blood. He gripped my arm with such a force that it started to bleed. ‘STOP, YOU’RE HURTING ME. PLEASE‘. I felt miserable and dirty. I was only 11 at that time. I felt dirty. I felt used.
He robbed me of my innocence. The man who was supposed to protect me and shield me, he shattered me. I tried a lot to stop him, but he didn’t. He didn’t stop. He did it. I was raped by my own father. They call me cold hearted but what did I do to deserve this? Ask your god, what did I do to deserve something so harsh? Ask your god that can he return all of those years back that I have spent crying when I should’ve been enjoying my childhood.
They say that everything happens for a good reason. What was the good in it for me? People look at me as if I am a piece of trash. Playing around and earning by sex. Is it a sin? I don’t care. They ask me why did I opt for prostitution when I had better ways to earn? All I know is that once when my ‘so called’ father raped me, he turned my heart to stone.
Now, I don’t care what people think. This is who I am now and what I’ve become.
Read Also: Why Prostitution Needs To Go Legit In India
