I am

AN: My very first published story... aya.

”Who am I? Where do I come from? Very few know, I try to forget. Are you sure you want to know? Well, o.k. then, if you are so sure. I’ll tell you everything. You’re really sure you want to know? Now you can say no, but when I have started, you are not allowed to interrupt me. Shall we start? O.k. then. The birth and the first years of childhood are things, that very few remember. I’m not an exception. My first clear memories take place when I was ten years old. I had started my studies in Academy of Saint Mary, which is a boarding school for wealthy girls. But my memories are not about that, but about my first vacation. At the begining, everything looked fine. Mum and dad were happy to see me again. I went to bed, happy being back home again. That night, it happened. A touch of a lustful hand ended my childhood. A whisper in my ear: “My daughter, you have grown very beautiful, my daughter.”
Lustful, hot hands studied my childbody. He tied me up and silenced me.
He stayed with me the whole night. I haven’t forgotten anything.
You are feeling sick, aren’t you, my friend? You can’t claim, that I didn’t warn you. Now only thing you can do, is listen everything.
It wasn’t a unique night. “The act” was repeated during every holiday. I started to be afraid of vacations. My friends didn’t understand why I became quiet, gloomy and withdrawn. I had no courage to tell anyone. Mum knew. I knew, that mun knew. Mum had no power over father. When I grew up, I understood that father didn’t treat mum a bit better than me. My family were professionals of pretending. Though everything was bad and ruined, in public everybody smiled. Bruises were hidden. No one could have guessed the truth.
At last I was seventeen and my school ended. I got the best report of my year. My mum wept of happiness. In the same evening, she cried of sadness.
Father tried to take me again. I rejected him. He went mad. I had no time to evade, when he hit me on the head. He beat me up and raped me. I had got enough. I packed my belongings and ran away.
I had no idea where to go. Eventually, I took a bus and went to my friend Jeanne Newton. Jeanne was my only friend who had suspicions, that there was something wrong in my life. When I appeared at her door in the middle of the night apparently beaten, she fast made her parents think, that it was a good idea to let me in. Jeanne’s mother turned pale of horror when she saw my beaten face. She brought me a cold compress and jumped when I yelped of pain while she touched my shoulder. That was when she insisted on me to show all my bruises. I was on my way back to the night when she demanded me to stay. After thinking about the matter she asked me to show myself to Jeanne, which I agreed to, because I needed help in clearing the wounds in my back. I took a cold shower and then I showed myself to Jeanne. My friend turned pale and it looked like she had breathing problems. I really understood why, when I looked in the mirror. My skin was all black, blue and purple, and my face was covered with deep dark bruises. My whole back was full of cuts from father’s belt. Jeanne cleaned them, trying not to burst into tears.
“Who has done this to you?” She asked. I pretended that I didn’t hear.
That night I slept heavily, I felt oddly safe on Jeanne’s couch.
The next morning, the mirror frightened me. I stared in it with fear and disgust. Never before had he beaten me this badly. My left eye was swollen and shut, and I couldn’t recognise myself because of the bruises. I hid my face in a cold, wet towel. Jeanne made a suggestion that I should stay with them until I would be okay again. Her parents accepted it. Jeanne’s mother wanted to send me to hospital, but I said absolutely “no”. They didn’t want me to run away, so they talked no more about going to hospital. I hid myself in Jeanne’s room, and did not show my face, until my bruises were gone.
Then I had another problem. What now? All I had with me was in my backbag. Jeanne asked me to stay, she was very worried about me. I didn’t know what to do or where to go, so I agreed to stay, until I would have decided what to do next. Then it happened. I had made some investigations in the Newton’s library. I had found very interesting books and made myself comfortable on the couch. I was so absorbed in my book, that I didn’t react when someone knocked. Neither did I, when two voices argued at the door. When my father appeared to the library I screamed frightened and dropped my books while I jumped up. I backed towards the wall behind me. I smelled old booze when he came nearer. Suddenly I was scared to death.
“Come on, we’re going home”, he said irritably. I shook my head and backed towars tha backwall. His expression turned into fury.
“I’ll ask only once”, he growled. I had reached the wall and he was too near me to feel comfortable. I was afraid of defending myself, remembering where it had led me last time. When he grabbed my jaw, my knees almost gave away.
“Obey me like a whore who you are”, he growled, making me feel sick of the stench of the booze. I was shaking. The hit came quickly, I had no time to react. Pain blew up all over my cheek and tooth. I would have fallen, if he hadn’t held me so tightly. I felt his face very near my own.
“We’re going home, now”, he hissed through his gittered teeth. I shook my head. I felt blood streaming down my chin. I breathed with quick, sharp, hysterical breaths. The second hit was on my temple. Again, the only reason why I did not fall down, was his rough squeeze on my jaw. Suddenly, he was ripped away from me. I fell on the floor and tender arms were thrown around me. I regonized a smell of Jeanne’s handcream. I opened my eyes, and saw two policemen, holding my father.
“Thank you mrs. Newton. We saw enough. This man will get an approach prohibition, and an accusation of abuse”, the shorter one of the policemen said. They took father away. I still felt Jeanne’s arms around me. I have never liked being touched, but being embraced by Jeanne felt rather good. I stood up and watched how they took father away. I couldn’t believe it was over, and so easily.
“Because of this, he will beat up mum”, I whispered. Again, I felt Jeanne’s arms around me . Almost eight years lasting abusing, and terror it created, came out of me now, when I realized it was over. I hadn’t cried since I was ten, not after that when father the first time touched me. I started to shake uncontrollaby. I fell on the floor shaking violently and Jeanne held me on her lap all the time I shook. No single tear rolled down my face. When my shaking slowly settled down I was dead tired. Jeanne helped me to bed and slipped herself next to me. I did not resist, because it made me feel safe. I fell asleep immediately.
I didn’t want to stay and be a burden for the Newton family, so I started seeking for job and an apartment. Luckily, I just reached the age of eighteen a week before I needed to sign my lease. I also got a job as a waitress in a tiny cafe. And that was the time, when I got the letter, that told, that I had been accepted in a medicial school. So, I was going to lead a very busy life.
My father got arrested for ten years.
When I had a day off Jeanne always visited me. We talked about everything under the sun.
Quite a radical change in my life happened, when Jeanne one evening sat on my lap and kissed me. I was startled, and she stopped, saying she was sorry. I stopped her apologizing with kissing her shyly. My father had made me afraid of touching, but Jeanne was very patient. The Newtons accepted our relationship, after they recovered from their first shock. This day I call Jeanne my wife.
Well, my friend I see you were able to take it all. That’s something that should be respected. That it was, my life. Where do I come from? Now you know. Who am I? I am I. The daughter of my parents, St. Katherines Hospital’s psychiatrist and the wedded wife of a beaty, named Jeanne Newton.


AN: If you liked it, rewiev. If you didn't like it, rewiev all the same...