Life with the black demon. Sandra Pasic
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Название: Life with the black demon
Автор: Sandra Pasic
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Зарубежная психология
isbn: 9783754945223
isbn:
She asked father:
- What’s the matter, old man? Is everything all right? What did Sandra do that would bring her to tears?
I wanted to scream and say everything, but then I raised my head and saw my mum’s scared and questioning look. I told her:
- It’s nothing. I didn’t do anything.
Mum, as though she sensed something was wrong, began to cry. I got up to hug her, and my father noticed that the tracksuit I wore had blood on it. He reacted furiously:
- Fucking bitch. Take her out of here, take her to the bathroom, get her out of here and talk to her about a menstrual period.
He didn’t stop swearing:
- Fuck all of you, your father, your mother, your sister and brothers, fuck all of you; you didn’t teach her anything. Do you see her walking around me like that? Has she no shame?
Mum took me to the bathroom and looked at me in complete shock. She talked to me about sanitary pads, I didn’t even know what those were, let alone what they were used for. Mum bathed me again. I was crying. She saw the bruise on my arm and she knew he was beating me. She thought that was the reason I was crying. She helped me get dressed, put a pad in my panties and started crying along with me.
She hugged me and said:
- My God, how much longer? Oh God, have I sinned so much that you have to punish me like this?
I didn’t know if mum knew or if she noticed what actually happened.
She told me that all of this would pass one day, that I should study hard, be smart and that one day, God willing, I will get married and have a wonderful husband who won’t behave like this, like my father behaved towards us.
I asked:
- When exactly is this going to happen?
Our conversation was interrupted by my father’s yelling:
- You two, come here right now. He started shouting at my mother.
- You fucking whore, who are you crying for? Explain to me who you’re crying for, fuck your whole family and that crazy father of yours.
At that moment, the most important thing for me was just to protect my mother, so she wouldn’t get beaten.
We sat down. Mum tried, as always, to calm him down:
- Come on, old man, let’s calm down. Let’s turn on the music. Do you want something to eat?
He played the role of a “master,” while we were victims who had to obey him, or as the expression goes, “to dance to his tune.”
That wasn’t a problem for us, especially for my mother, who most of all wanted peace in the house, so that no one would touch or shout at anyone... He used to tell my mum that we all irritated him and that we would make him do the worst possible thing that is to kill all of us.
Thanks to my mother, father calmed down a bit. She always did and tried everything to calm him down.
Night fell. It was raining. We could hear thunder, and we could see lightning. He made me go to my room. Mum was right behind me and she put plastic film on the mattress because I’d wet the bed almost every night. The gloomy weather made me even more crushed and disheartened. Lightning illuminated my room. I lay down, covered my head and cried. Mum would always come and kiss me goodnight. Truthfully, after that day, I didn’t look at my mum the same way either. I was disgusted by everything. I could smell the abhorrent odour on myself. I couldn’t get rid of his odour, the smell of alcohol that left a deep mark on my brain.
I heard mum and dad having sexual intercourse in the next room. I heard my mother’s moans. I couldn’t understand how he could do something like that, after everything that happened, after the beatings, shouting, swearing, after what he did to me.
I didn’t fall asleep until the next morning. My mind was racing. I was sad at first. I wondered why I couldn’t be in the position of my sister and brother. They had fun and enjoyed the wonderful time spent together with grandparents. I knew they were having a nice time at the farm. Working at the farm brought nothing but happiness to me.
Sunrise. I didn’t want to leave the room, nor did I know how to get up, what to say, or how to behave. I heard my father got up. He opened the door and entered the room. He acted as if nothing had happened the day before.
I couldn’t look him in the eye. In those moments, I wished I didn’t even exist. I was trying to find a solution. I was trying to find a way to tell someone what happened. Even when I thought of something in my head, I quickly dismissed it. His words, that he would kill us all, which were etched deep in my consciousness, would always discourage me! Those words were enough for me to dismiss any intention I had to complain to anyone.
Mum was free from work that day and everything she did, no longer made any difference to me. She entered the room and asked me to take off my underwear to see if I was still bleeding. When I took my clothes off, there was no blood, there was no severe stomach pain from yesterday.
She told me I had to be careful now. The first thing she emphasized was that I had become a “more mature girl.” A ten-and-a-half-year-old girl?
I thought to myself:
- Oh, mum, can you not really understand what had happened? Don’t you suspect anything?
Not a day went by without me crying. As I cried then, so I cry to this day. The only emotions I had were sadness, pain, shame and betrayal.
I became disinterested about anything. I cared for no one. I didn’t even ask when my sister and brother would be back. I just lived my life because I had no other choice. I was never aware that there is a brighter side to life.
He, my father, ruined my childhood. He ruined my life. He marked me for the rest of my life, even though only he, I and dear God knew about it. The rest of the world could not understand the pain. I had to carry a heavy burden on my young and weak shoulders.
My childhood was monotonous, there was no one I could trust but myself. I didn’t want to spend time with anyone, I didn’t want to gain anyone’s trust. I was afraid of people! I was afraid of everyone! I was afraid I would go through the same hell I already went through. I didn’t want to feel “the bite of the black demon”. I was constantly trying to be alone, running away from everyday life and reality. I thought I didn’t belong to this world or this family.
I never realised that anyone could hurt a child. Every day, I posed questions over and over again. Is there someone who could hurt their own child? Is there anyone who could permanently scar, mentally and physically, their own child?
The days went by, somehow. I don’t even remember. They didn’t matter to me. Finally, sister and brother came back happy and full of wonderful experiences. I was especially struck by the fact that my father hugged and kissed them as a sign of welcome, and also said that he missed them a lot. They talked, I sat and listened to them. There was no happiness or sadness in my expression, only coldness, contempt, jealousy, envy. I wondered how a parent could make such a СКАЧАТЬ