CHAPTER ONE

*

She could smell him from a mile away, drunk with alcohol and the way his voice slurred when he sang one of Don William's country song ..''I will like to see you again". It always made her cringe. It felt like nails being pulled at the hard surface of her mind walls, as every words came with it the thought of what is about to happen.

She laid on her bed, counting his footsteps ''One, Two,-Ten, Fifteen'' knowing that when it got to thirty, he would be at her door, and another ten steps he would be at the foot of her bed, calling her name as he sings ''Alexandra..my sweet beautiful girl, I would like to see you again'' adding it to the words of the original song thus distorting it.

She could hear him stagger and laugh at his own silliness. She could hear the bottle he held always in his left hand hitting the wall as he climbs the staircase, every step making a sound due to the cricking sound of the almost broken steps.

''Twenty'' she counts

His breathing is hard, heavy. He is a weighty man for his age, but it doesn't matter, neither does it stop him.

''Twenty-five'' She continues.

His faint footstep is getting closer to her door. She looks away from it, knowing at any time now he would push the unlocked door open.

He is the reason her door is never locked, he is the reason there are no ''hide and seeks'' games done in the house with a clear mind, the only time the game '' hide and seek'' is done is when he wants it to...and she was always the hider and he the seeker.

''Run my sweet Alexandra, run and I will come find you. Go to the darkness and the loneliest, go run and I promise to come find you." He says to her.

But, she learnt too early too soon what his little games were, and it wasn't for someone her age, especially when he tells her to seat and be quiet, and never to scream even if it hurts and it did. It hurt for days.

''Twenty-nine'' she whispers

She could tell what he is doing now; uncorking the gin he has in his hand, throwing his head to the back as he tips the entire contents into his mouth. Then he would choke as some spring out of his mouth, trekking to his jaw and mingling with the dirty beards that had spread with an unkempt bush evenly across his face.

Despite him choking he wouldn't stop drinking until all is down his large throat, coughing again he would belch, so loud the cat which always sleeps at her balcony window would turn its head in anger, wondering while higher animals wouldn't let lesser animals like them have a good nap, having no idea how many lives they had had to live for one night.

''Thirty!!'' She whispers

He kicks the door open and staggers in ''Alexandra, my sweet beautiful Alexandra... I would like to see you again'' he hiccups, and then belches again as he laughs.

*

She lays still, as one who is asleep. But they both know she isn't. He had told her once, that he likes the ''Pretend game, and that pretend games makes daddy happy; it makes daddy and his little boy happy ''

She had asked him once who his little boy was, she wished she hadn't asked, because he had made her close her eyes with a cloth, then he had taken her hands and he had asked her to touch it. He told her to touch whatever she felt and then whisper to it. She did, she felt it move and in fear she had screamed ''Snake Snake!!!'' backing away from it and screaming out her lungs ''Daddy snake!!!!!!'' she wailed even with her blind fold on.

*

Mother had come, and asked her why she was screaming after removing the blinds from her eyes, she hadn't seen him nor the snake. She felt daddy had hidden the snake or the snake got scared and disappeared, and carried daddy too.

She had told her mother '''Snake took daddy!'' she cried ''Snake took daddy!!!''

Her mother had laughed ''Have you started seeing things Alexa?''

''But mummy, daddy isn't here, snake took him. Took him away, I swear it. I touched it and it moved and...oh daddy we have to find daddy''

Her mother had taken her by the hand and led her to the living room, there he was, legs crossed, with a newspaper reading.. ''See daddy, he didn't move, he has been here all along. Don't be scared, there is no snake in the house, daddy will protect you okay?'' she had left her with him and went to the clinic.

''But daddy, I swear it...'' she cried

''Did you now?'' he asks her, she had wondered about the chuckle to his voice and the way his eyes sparkled and the sly smile to his lips

'''I mean, I felt it. It was a snake, you told me to touch a snake and.. and—'' She wailed, he hushes her up, lifts her and places her on his lap, cooing her to quiet.

She heard his faint laughter, he told her it wasn't a snake, he said ''You was just having a bad dream Alexandra. "

But she wasn't asleep.

She was three years old then but she knew what being awake was and what being asleep was..

That was a snake, and she could swear it.

But she should have known better, because a few weeks later, she realized what the snake was, and she hated it.

But how could she anyways, she was nothing but a child.

''Always pretend as if you are asleep. When I come in, close your eyes and stay still, and remember don't scream, else I would make it more painful and I would make sure you get the belt and the hot water bottle'' he had pulled at her cheeks many weeks later.

And like a good little girl she lays still, eyes closed.. waiting for daddy to come through her room door.

''Five steps'' she whispers

Praying at the beginning never helped her. She had hoped that someone, anyone, who could hear her will come to her rescue. But no one did. No one ever did. So she gave up praying, gave up fighting, gave in to acceptance.

''Ten final steps'' she tightens her eyes as she feels him climb the bed, his voice slurring the more as the song he is singing becomes unintelligent words.

He flings the covers away from her small fragile body, holding her legs he spreads them apart as he climbs on top of her.

She could feel his cold thighs, cold hairy thighs and the thing dangling between his legs as it brushes her skin. That thing that brings her nothing but pain and makes her sore for days.

That same thing she felt him grab, and like usual she felt it take on a more solid sharp as he moves his hands up and down in a slow motion over it, as he lays on top of her raising himself up to get access to himself, he sings drunkenly

''Oh Alexandra, my sweet sweet Alexandra....'' He sings, breathing into her face bad breathe mixed with rotten eggs and cat poo.

She turns her face again, bile threatening to rise up from her throat, she presses it down, sucking in her breathe, both eyes shut tighter than ever, she holds on to the bed sheets, waiting for that moment he brings her nothing but hell, pain and misery for the entire two minutes and thirty seconds.

'' Oh my sweet Alexandra'' He says.

She had wondered at first if he was completely unaware of what he did to her. She had hoped that the first time was a mistake, a drunken mistake she hoped he regretted.

She had hoped that the tears he had shed that night so many years ago was a cry of a broken sad man.

And she had forgiven him, she had when he went on his knees and pleaded for mercy. She had agreed not to tell anyone, not even her mother, not even her shadow.

She had bleed, she had been swollen and yet, she forgave him.

But how do you forgive a man when night after night and night after night, that same thing he asked for mercy for was the same thing he seeked, and this time... and the times after that and the times after that..

He wasn't sorry.

No! infact, she couldn't tell anyone even if she wanted to. He beat her, he made her quiet...he made sure that no one would ever take her words against his.

And night , after night, he would come home drunk, he would climb up those stairs, he would sing that same song with his most horrible voice slurring as he walks, he would laugh and stagger, he would stop at her door and he would empty the contents of his gin, then with a deep breath and desire in his eyes he would come for her, ten steps to her bed he would climb it, singing with her name and adding it to the words of the song, he would part her legs and with a quick painful thrust he would enter her..

Just like now, just like now. She is ten years old now, yet the pain was never thesame as every night he came for her it became ten times worse than before.

If someone had asked her what she knew as pain, she would have defined pain as ''When the man you call father comes to your room every night, while mother is asleep or at the hospital and rapes you.'' She would say ''Pain is what she feels between her legs, inside of her when he enters her with what's better his own legs''

''Pain, is the soreness she feels that never goes away''. She would say, ''Pain is man, and all they stand for''

Yes. This was pain.

Now, like always for the past few years, She holds tight to the bed sheet as he breathes heavily on her, groaning like an animal, grabbing the little folds of her small breast, grunting his desire while she lays there, biting her lips to stop herself from screaming out, letting the tears leave her eyes without making a sound.

Counting the seconds till he eventually intensifies his movements and jerks until he stops suddenly, rolling off her small fragile body and letting out a satisfied sigh with his protruded body facing the ceiling, his beards sweat shining, his thighs wet and his member back to a deflated balloon in the shell of the rubber clothe it wore, a thickish creamy liquid laid at the bottom of the rubber still clinging to his member.

Yet, she lays there.

Her core in burning flames, her insides in turmoil and her heart in pains.

Night, after night, he would come, and when it is over, two minutes thirty seconds of pain and more pain, when it is over he would roll off and within seconds he would snore, so loud that the cat who had been watching the whole show would hiss and trot away, climbing up to her safe haven where family would protect and love you not use you.

Yes, not use you.

Fifteen years old now; She gets up, her legs shaking , her thighs dripping from blood she walks slowly to the bathroom, there she puts on the shower and lets it run over her as she slips to the ground.

Just like tonight, just like every night like tonight, while shower is on, she would sit under it, like rain, it washes away her tears, but never the pain within her legs nor heals the wounds her core has become conversant with.

And when she is done crying, she would go back to bed, not beside him, but underneath it, there only where she finds peace. And in the morning, he could wake up, gather himself and leave.

Mother would come and like lovebirds she would hear them laugh and talk and be happy.

And she? She ..goes about her day like a normal fifteen year old girl.

That's what everyone thinks. That she is perfect, her life is, her family dotes and loves her.

But no one does, not her family, especially not him. He just loves what's between her legs.

And if he is like that, that meant, all Men where the same.

Is this not what they want? This same thing her father takes from her every night.. is that not what they want?

Oh, Men...are pain, and all they know how to do is to give -''Pain!''

She came to realize that growing up in this environment, with a father like that, with a life like this would only result in a few things; It can either make you, mar you or break you.

And for her, it shaped her as it broke her too.

By the time she turned fifteen, she had had enough.

*