People think it’s great to have my life. I am the youngest of three siblings and I belong to an upper-middle class family. It goes without saying that I’m pampered and I get whatever I want. True. But I have also received a lot of things that I do not want and I cannot ever talk about it. My childhood days were wonderful, but the nights were tormenting and uncomfortable.
The memories have left a deep scar on me and I still don’t know how to deal with it. For the longest time in my infant days, I used to sleep along with my mom and dad, and my siblings used to sleep in another room. I remember I was in second or third grade when I found out something about my parents.
Parents sometimes underestimate their children and I was a victim of that. They must’ve thought that I was fast asleep every night but I was actually too nervous to wake up in the middle of the sounds I heard.
Dad and I used to go to bed before my mom and my siblings. Mom used to be busy with her daily chores and my siblings used to be busy with their school activities. What I realized was when I used to fall asleep, my dad used to push me aside to do things to my mom every day. Every single day. I had no idea what it was. All I could think of was how my mom sounded miserable. I always felt he was harming her and she was in pain, which was a fact that I got to know later.
I used to feel uncomfortable, and it was no ordinary discomfort. I hated my father. Gradually, I threw tantrums.
I pretended to be sick in the middle of the night, I told them I was scared, I stayed awake stubbornly and told them I wasn’t sleepy at all. I did everything I could to keep my father away from mom. Some days I won. Most days were “those nights” again. I struggled this way for three years gathering whatever success I could.