This is a continuation of “Look Into The Eyes Of A Child”. If you haven’t yet read the first part, I recommend you do so before reading this third part of the story. A few
This is a continuation of “Look Into The Eyes Of A Child”. If you haven’t yet read the first part, I recommend you do so before reading this third part of the story.
A few weeks later, while her mother was away, her father received an urgent phone call saying he was needed right away. Being a prominent elder in the church, these urgent calls came frequently. Usually her father would close himself off in his home-office and handle whatever urgent matter had arisen behind a closed door. This time it would be different. She and her brothers were loaded into the family station wagon and driven across town to the home of close family friends, comfortably positioned on the living room floor with coloring books, crayons and various board games to busy themselves, while her father spoke to the very-pregnant woman pacing around the dining room table. “He cheated on me!” she cried. “With a young girl!”
Unable to ignore what she was hearing, unable to avert her eyes, she simply stared at this poor woman. Mike’s wife, Carol, had discovered her husband cheating on her with a young girl. “That young girl was almost me”, she thought to herself. She stared at her father’s eyes, hoping and wishing he would look her way and read what only her eyes could say. Her father did look at her momentarily, but only to motion to her to get back to her coloring book. All she could feel was anger towards her father. Many years would pass before she would have the courage to confront her father, a grown woman no longer afraid, but confront him she would.
She was only nine years old. Her parents weren’t home, having left her older brothers in charge. She was taken into a bedroom two of her brothers shared, but all five were there, where her body was used to explain to the younger brothers the details of Biology and “where babies come from”. Although none of her brothers touched her “there”, she knew what was happening was wrong, and she knew she couldn’t tell anyone. She didn’t tell even when one of her brothers took her innocence away some months later. She believed what happened to her was her own fault.
She was only ten years old. Walking home from school, she found her little brother with his friends in an alley, with their pants pulled down, comparing “who had a bigger one” than the other. She would later regret telling her father when she arrived home, and the guilt of what occurred that day lingers in her mind even now. Her father beat her little brother with the leather strap until her brother passed out, collapsing on the nearby couch. She, along with her brothers and mother, were made to sit and watch it all. Only when her little brother collapsed on the couch did anyone have the courage to tell her father to stop, her brothers rushing over to hold him back. Tears of fear and guilt ran down her face, and she knew that from that day forward, she would keep everything secret. She was taught never to lie, for it had serious consequences. Telling the truth had brought the same consequences to her, and to her little brother, and she swore to herself she would never tell again.
She learned at a very young age that what was hidden in her pants was of keen interest to boys, and that interest increased immensely as her body began to blossom into that of a young lady. Neither her church, the elders therein, or even her own father would ever know the lengths she would go to feel loved. Conclusion of the story…