I was lying in the bathtub. The hot, sparkling water was touching my naked, defenseless body. I’ve been watching the ceiling wondering why it’s like this. Wondering why my body is full of wounds and bruises. Is the house you were born really your destiny? Is it my destiny to suffer? I know it’s my destiny to die one day, but I don’t want to die writhing in such pain. when will i breathe a sigh of relief?


I have a problem and I can’t tell anyone about it. My father. My father hates me. I don’t know if it’s because I look like my mother but he has pure anger towards me. He hurts me so much both physically and mentally. He beats me every day, tells me how disgusting I am and uses me like a slave. No wonder why my mom left him.


It’s getting harder and harder to live in this house. I go home every day hoping he won’t do anything to me but in vain. I suffer the same pain every day. I do the cooking, I do the cleaning, I take care of my brother, I take care of the house, and I get beaten in return. where is justice? As soon as I come of age, I will run away from this house, I will take my brother with me.

What hurts the most is that outsiders don’t notice anything. My dad out there becomes a completely different person. When those outside saw him,  “Here is the ideal father!” they say, but i can not turn to them and say, “No, please help!”. This man hurts me so much but I can not even ask for help. Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell the truth.

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