CHAPTER THREE: FATHER

Meet Him

This guy is insane. He is the first reason why I hate men so much. Especially white males who think they are the kings of the world. All the children actually are accidents. Moreover, he said it to each one a lot of times. I have no idea why. Just wear a freaking condom. Or if you do not have money, just avoid sex.

Abel is 63. He’s got gray hair from his 40s, a crazy wrinkled face, and a stupid-looking countenance. Typical short man (something around 5’5), curses every five minutes, bad-spoken. He literally can’t put five words together. He is a rapist, junkie, and abuser. He got a degree in college and even had a great job as an engineer but it didn’t last long. He became an alcoholic and several months later a junkie. He awfully hates women, blames each thing on them, and just feels like men are better than women. He says that we are extremely emotional, not hard-working, too soft, and are created to give birth to children and be a good wife.

His degree is his biggest achievement. Albeit, he sold it to a random guy to buy drugs. I don’t know how he managed to do it because his name is written there but whatever.

Since I was five years old, I was raped by him on a daily basis. It felt like he exactly for this purpose kept me and didn’t let my mom get an abortion. It is so freaking gross and embarrassing to tell this but I need to. 97% of all girls and women have been in any way sexually or physically assaulted. Almost the third part was raped, including me. Moreover, men, if you read this, just know, it’s safer for us to be aware of all men in order to not be taken advantage of. I say all men because you never know exactly who is going to do something with you. I know that it can be offensive but you have never been in our shoes. You don’t know what we feel, so basically you can’t blame us for that. In addition, a lot of men are also scared of other men. It makes me feel heartbroken to say that we have to adapt to this kind of world simply because we do not have other choices. So be respectful towards everyone, not just men you are afraid of. You have all the rights as long as you do not make others uncomfortable. It is that easy.

Men like dad deserve to be burnt in hell, then boiled and cut into millions of pieces. You are not a man, you are not a human if you dare to treat other people in an inappropriate and awful way. Amen.

Come Closer

I guess you already know what I am going to talk about. Sexual assault. It began when I was 5 as I said previously. Approximately 50 times I was raped by my dad. Fun fact: not only he has raped me. A lot of people told me that I am beautiful. Moreover, dad one time said to me that if I hadn’t been his daughter, he would have married me. Just imagine how much he's messed-up. After that, I always wear baggy clothes, never wash my hair, and talk with a really brute voice. It didn’t help me.

Not make women look like shit, even though most of them are shit, I was once raped by a woman. However, according to statistics, there are 99% psychos among women-rapists. Thus, I encountered a psycho. The experience was extremely weird, compared with men. But I told you that later.

So let’s kick off the first-reason story. I clearly remember that moment. Whereas a lot of other girls say that their brain just blocks all the memories from childhood. They don't remember the rape but also the whole childhood. I think I can clearly see the recollection because this is my dad, I see him every day, it has happened more than once, and I was absolutely sober each time.

When it happened for the first time, I, indeed, was sober. I could not prove him because I was a kid. I didn't even have boobs. I wasn’t mature even close. This pedofile just used me.

He picked me up from kindergarten where he was really amiably talking with my kindergartener. But I was always with some bruises and cuts and I thought that she would do something. I was sure that she would notice and take me away from this family. Unfortunately, that has never happened. I guess it is because of their salary. My kindergarten was utterly cheap and, I suppose, they weren’t paid enough. Then why did they have to care about children who were sexually and physically abused? They didn’t have to but if they did, they would save me and I wouldn’t end up like that, writing this not a book but rather a memoir. Really short memoir because my life ended three months ago when I got to jail with a life sentence.

The First Reason

He picked me up earlier. Usually, you have to take your kids at 5:00 AM. He did it two hours earlier, explaining that I had to go to Art School. I have never been to Art School. To say that it was weird, I can’t say this. I was a toddler who hated that place as I guess, everyone else. So I was happy to get out of there.

When I got home, he was really gentle. I have never seen him like that. He offered me his help to change my clothes. In kindergarten, all moms help their children to change their clothes. Consequently, I agreed. We were alone. No one was at home. He put me on his knees, which wasn’t super necessary. I was a bit big for this. He placed me in the way where I was pressed in his thigh. I was sitting like I was riding on a horse. You can imagine this because it’s hard for me to tell those details.

“I wish I forgot that moment but I remember it super vividly. Nevertheless, it’s okay. I’m a grown-up kiddo. I can handle this. Though I couldn’t when I was five.”

I felt that something was wrong. Dad had never been like this. He helped me to change my clothes. But still, he kept me on his knees, so I escaped. But he was angry because of this.

I entered the kitchen. He followed me. While he was cooking, I was doing my homework. He constantly looked back at me. It was creepy as hell. When he finished, I quickly ate and started to get ready for basketball practice. I tried to be as quick as possible but I mishandled this task. He began to ask me different questions, such as “Who are you a friend with?” “Whom do you tell about your day?”. When I told him that I’m busy and needed to go, he went crazy. He closed the door with the key, took away my key, and went to the bedroom. A 6-year-old girl aka me was extremely disappointed. Why does an adult act himself as a kid? I was like, what’s wrong with you? I want to go out with my friend. You never cared about me. Plus I started going out with friends two months ago. It sounds weird, I know but it is true.

In order to get out of that apartment, I went to the bedroom where he was. I still regret that decision. He caught me and threw me on the bed. My daddy had assaulted me before, so I knew that something was going to happen. I honestly do not want to talk about it because it’s a woefully traumatizing experience for me. I can just say that he raped me that day. It was a bright and sunny day. That’s it.

What Led Me

It hasn’t happened once. It was happening all the time. I couldn’t bear it anymore. Sorry for those who understand how I felt. I am extremely lucky that the police were not able to find out that it was us. Many victims of domestic abuse end up in jail just because they want a better life for themselves and had to kill those who caused the unbearable pain. In this situation, I am thankful to God for helping me.

Constant abuse by my dad was something out of line. I cried every single day and even more times wanted to kill myself.

He did not just abuse me. He abused everyone who was surrounding him. He did it with my sister. With my brothers when they weren’t old enough to resist him. He did it with his wife. With random women on the street. He felt completely unrestrained. He could touch them, hit them if something was wrong. He was real trash. He wasn’t a man nor human. He didn’t want to socialize. No friends, no relatives, no manners, nothing. He was nothing and has got nothing. I feel woefully embarrassed that I’m related to him.

Murder By Accident

I or better to say we killed him roughly one month after a mom’s “suicide”. I almost got caught before the reprisal of my siblings. But everything is okay right now, so do not worry if you do. I frankly was relieved after that. So many shitty situations happened in my life. I got such a great immune system that even a liar detector did not work on me. I was able to answer all the questions as they wanted me to. Later about it.

After his wife’s death, he started drinking even more. Almost every day he got home absolutely wasted which actually wasn’t really surprising. But one day he decided to beat the hell out of each member of the family. He started to beat my younger sister, then me, and then he became so brave and stupid that he started beating his sons which was kind of crazy. But it was fun. For the first time, my siblings and I had the opportunity to unite because we had the same enemy. However, that man took a knife, a really sharp one, and threw it at Steve. He got the knife in the arm. Gosh, he was injured really badly. The blood started to leak. That was the moment when I knew our dad was not going to survive through that night. And I was happy to realize it. Every fiber of my body was feeling relief. It was kind of shocking to be there, surrounded by the people who wanted revenge, witnessing the scene of murdering and being an accomplice.

That man was wasted and couldn’t control himself. He passed out three times. And when he was passed out for the last time, Steve ended up cutting his throat. It was awful. You should’ve seen that scene. It was disgusting. But we were all there together. Plus he ended up suffering, so we all helped Steve to get rid of the body. That’s what families do. They help each other out. I thought that after that we would always be friendly with each other but no. I’m not living in a fairytale, so I had to suffer new pain.

CHAPTER FOUR: AGNES

Better If I Ate Her In A Womb

The sentence above perfectly describes my relationship with my sister. Moreover, it goes both ways. I would’ve been over the moon if she had eaten me. And she would’ve been extremely excited if she hadn’t been born alive. You probably guess that everyone has such a relationship among siblings. But how dare you say it before I even started digging in. So probably you are allowed to say it after reading this chapter.

She is 19, only 2 years younger than me. But it feels like she is 35 and has tried everything out here. Agnes started smoking at 11 years old, drinking at 12. She tried weed at 14 and went to harder drugs at 17. Honestly, she was almost dead because of them when I killed her. So, I feel like I was a blessing for her. She had her first boyfriend at 13, first kiss at 13, and first sex at 13. She got a boyfriend in March, and a kiss and sex were in April. Pretty lucky girl, isn’t she? Or better to use the past tense ‘wasn’t she’ because she is dead. Stupid joke, I know. You know what? I just realized that this whole situation with my family actually kind of seems like “Shameless”. I haven’t watched “Shameless” but I heard a lot about this TV show, so I feel like it seems like this. All members of the family are messed up. Each of them is an embodiment of some kind of sin. But they didn’t kill one another which is good.