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Who Will Protect Me

By: Rekita Chenault

I remember that night, like yesterday, before it happened. Me, my sister and brothers brought our mattresses, blankets, and pillows out into the living room. It was one Friday night that our dad and mom decided to make it movie night. We had popped some popcorn, got some candy out of our mom’s candy stash, had our orange soda, and our movie ready “Friday the 13th”. We were so excited! Scary movies were such an adrenaline rush, minus the nightmares. We screamed a lot and laughed at the corny parts. There was no room for dinner with our bellies full of “movie” food. With the mix of coming down from the sugar high and it being late, soon enough, we were fast asleep.  

I woke up the next morning, not wanting to move an inch. My comfy blanket felt so good against my skin, and I was so warm.  

All of a sudden, it gently and slowly was being pulled off of me. I then felt a hand massaging my butt. I looked back and there was my dad smiling at me like a creep. I couldn’t believe it. I was so scared.  

I somehow got the strength to run to the bathroom. I locked the door with my hands shaking uncontrollably. I just knew he was going to bust through the door at any minute. I was hoping my mom would hear me crying out for her in my mind. I was too surprised and frightened to speak.  

All of a sudden, I heard the front door open and my mom speaking to my dad. I immediately unlocked the door and ran out and hugged her. “I’m going to the store, you need anything?” My dad asked my mom. “Yeah, just get me some cigarettes, menthol please.” My mom said.  

Once I heard the front door close, I told my mom what happened. She pulled me from around her, gave me a smug look and told me never to lie like that again. She then went to the kitchen and start cooking as if I didn’t just tell her my dad molested me.  

I felt so alone. I felt lifeless.  

My heart started racing, my palms were sweaty, and my throat felt like it was closing up. I thought to myself, why did I even waste my breath? Who is going to help me, protect me? I wanted to tell my sister and brothers, but they were younger than me. They wouldn’t understand nor would they be able to do anything about it. I didn’t know if my dad was going to do that to me again or if it was going to be worst next time.  

I ran to my room, grabbed a pen and a piece of paper. I began writing how I wanted to die since nobody cared about me and how I had nobody to protect me from my dad. I also wrote that I was going to kill myself, by stabbing myself in the heart with the sharpest knife from the kitchen.  

I just kept thinking the pain I would feel from doing it couldn’t be worst from what I was currently feeling. And after all was said and done, I would be at peace because I wouldn’t be in this nightmare anymore where no one loved me. I was crying so bad while writing that my head and my heart start hurting.  

I remember thinking about heaven and hell. Which one would I go to? Would God punish me for killing myself even though it was for a good reason? Then I started to think about the devil being excited for what I was about to do. I imagined him with open arms saying “Come on, come on and do it. I’m ready for you!” That thought alone made me rethink about taking my life.  

I ended up going to my best friend’s house. I didn’t tell her what happened. I just told her I needed a hug and silence. She happily gave me what I needed. Even though she wasn’t my mom, she always gave me what my mom didn’t and that was simply love.  

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