This Is Her Story | #FreeWrite [Squash]

Last night, I dreamed about her again.

I don't know how to make it stop. I have familiar dreams that was always there—they repeatedly come and go. And she was one of my constant dweller.


I want to tell a part of her story... I must tell.


I used to go to my aunt's house when I was younger, it's on a different village where there are more kids of my age. More kids means more playmates. And there is where I met her.


As I've said, it was a long time ago so I can't even recall her name, but I wont and I cant forget her face and her story that one sunny day.


All the kids doesn't want to play with her, and it made me wonder why. She has this pretty face but her hair was cut super short and her dress was old and soiled as if she's been wearing it for quite sometime. So I stopped playing with others and sat beside her. I introduced myself and so is she, and from there we clicked, I don't mind if I can't play anymore with other kids as long as we're together


I told her how lonely our place is, she told me about how she wanted to have a home with her stray dog. I told her about my school, she told me how she earned money by selling plastics to the buyers in the market. I told her how I hate my little brothers, she told me how she wish she has one. I told her that I love to dance, she told me that dancing is costly so she prefer singing to ease her pain. I told her I want to stay here, she told me how she wanted to leave.


And then it dawned at me, It took me awhile before I see the pattern. I would relentlessly talk about something she actually wanted. But that's not all, what she said next... haunts me forever.


She asked me if she can tell me a secret and made me promise that I won't tell anyone... just yet.
I said Yes and told her I won't tell anyone. Then she looked at me straight in the eyes as she tell me this;
"I am living with my stepfather, every night he would come drunk and red-eyed. Every night he would ask me to remove my dress and not cry. Every night it hurts. Every night I die."


I might still be young but I knew what she meant. At young age, I wanted to make that guy suffer or even kill him with my own little hands—but I knew it's impossible. I told her she should tell her Mother, she told me she did but instead of helping her she call her a liar and made her sleep outside their house.
We should tell my aunt. But she told me it's not a good idea, her stepfather will go after us and might do something really bad to me. I got scared. So I kept my mouth shut. I hugged her and it was the last time I saw her.


How brutal this world can be?


How can they make kids suffer that much?


How can someone squash her spirit and dreams?


How can we make it stop?

^source

“Tell them about how you're never really a whole person if you remain silent, because there's always that one little piece inside you that wants to be spoken out, and if you keep ignoring it, it gets madder and madder and hotter and hotter, and if you don't speak it out one day it will just up and punch you in the mouth from the inside.” ― Audre Lorde

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^{* Freewriting- is the practice of writing down all your thoughts without stopping, and without regard for spelling, grammar, or any of the usual rules for writing. It might include a topic (prompt) as a general guide, or it might not.
** Thank you @mariannewest for your initiative to run #freewrite, #freewritepoetry, #freewritepoetrydigest.}

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