A Lunatic's Reality

Chapter 3: The Word Torture is not an Exaggeration, Just an Understatement

Chapter 3

*The Word Torture is not an Exaggeration, Just an Understatement*

Pain. It was all over my body. I was bewildered, trying to find the source of this pain flaring up in my body. As my eyes adjusted from its haziness due to sleep, I then saw the cause of this unfathomable pain that woke me from my slumber. I heard the familiar sound of the whip that has already wounded my body countless times.

I saw my father in my bedside holding the whip. He looked so furious that if this was a cartoon, smoke would be oozing pout from his nose. Or ears. If the circumstances were different, I would be laughing my heart out because of how amusing he looked.

But instead of laughing, I was screaming my head off as he was lashing me again with the whip. I was at a real disadvantage because i am lying down. He could hit me anywhere he wanted. After he was satisfied, he halted the fiendish punishment allowing me to inhale a little bit of air. But, after that, he gripped me tightly on my shoulders and snatched me out of the bed.

"I am working hard so that our family will have something to eat. Your mother is also working. On top of that, she has to clean up the house, wash the clothes and do all of the house chores. But you, YOU!!! " he slapped me so hard that I fell on the floor and my cheeks were numb and red. Because of the pain from the whipping, I can't stand, let alone move. My entire body seems like it had shut off all its functions because of the numbness I felt.

"All you ever do is READ! You useless, worthless child!" my father bellowed with rage, "Why won't you help her? Make yourself useful. If I ever find out that you're doing this again I'll, I'll ---"

He took out some of my books from its protective shelter and dropped the mercilessly on the floor. I almost screamed as I saw him stepping on my prized possessions. I want to snatch them from under his feet --- away from the devil's clutches and into my arms, safe and sound. But alas, my body hurts all over and numb that I can't even move an inch. All I can do is stare in horror, carefully suppressing my tears as I saw my books got stepped on, dirtied,folded and torn.

"May that serve as a warning to you! Next time you skip out on your chores I'll burn all of them!"

He stormed out of my room leaving me alone to myself. All I can do is salvage what was left of the books. I straightened a couple of pages and tried to wipe off the dirt on some of the pages. I even tried to tape a few of the torn pages and book covers. I then arranged them all back on the shelf as neatly as I could.

I'm surprised to feel a strange fluid flowing over my cheeks. I realized that it came from my eyes, bursting forth from their dam --- it was my tears that fell.

It was a long time since i cries. I already promised myself that I would never show my tears especially in front of those monsters. I already vowed that my tears would never overflow from its container but, I guess the protective wall already broke apart.

 I knew why my dad acted like that. Mom must have made up stories and blamed me for not doing anything. All my hard work and she got the credit.

And all I got was punishment.

Thinking about everything was just so painful. Being hurt by the people who you expect to love and protect you is just too ---

The next thing i knew, all hell broke loose. I guess I have cried enough tears for half a lifetime. I tried to lull myself to sleep as tears rained on my pillow and as I tried to forget the agony and soreness of my wounds.