This Time

| PROLOGO |

— THIS TIME —

tw: child abuse

The little girl cowered beside her bed as the man in front of her, whom she grew up calling her father, laid his big hands on her small and frail body. Her pleas to stop and cry for help are not reaching his seemingly deaf ears. She was sobbing as she continued to accept the beating she knew she deserved for not turning out to be what he expected. The sound of a belt hitting her bruising and wounded skin echoed through the empty room. The only sounds emitting were her cries, his hits, and his shouting as he breathed hard.
 
"Papa, tama na po!" (Papa, stop!) She whined in desperate need for the pain to stop. Although she never disagreed whenever her father hurt her, she just couldn't handle the pain she was feeling now. The hard strikes from the belt burned against her skin, producing a loud cry whenever the metal from the end hit her. She could feel her head pounding, feeling horribly dizzy as the ringing in her ears became louder. Her body aches all over, and she feels like it's the worst pain she's ever felt.

But despite her constant cries, she knows deep inside that it's her fault. She deserves to get beat up; she deserves all the pain she's feeling. If only she turned out to be the perfect child he always wanted, maybe he would've loved her, maybe he would've been happy, and maybe he would've accepted her. It's her fault, and she can't blame anyone else.

She feels lightheaded as the room starts spinning. A loud scream of a woman she's known all her life was heard before the little girl felt wet liquid hitting her face, the image of her father's wide eyes and blood oozing out of his mouth as he coughed. A shard edge of the knife was seen through his chest.

Her wailing mother cradled her pounding head against her chest. Although the beating has stopped, her body still aches as her vision starts to turn black. She gave her mother a weak smile to ease her worries before she closed her eyes, taking the rest she needed.

She wishes she could sleep forever; maybe then her father will stop hurting and everything's going to be okay. All she needs is to close her eyes and sleep. That's all she needs to do.

————— - ————— - ——————

I jolted awake, kicking the cover away from my hot, sweating body. I breathed hard as I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself down. The burning feeling from the strikes and every single hit to my body—I felt it all again. My body aches all over. There was so much pain.

Frantically searching my body for any sign of his agonizing touch, I found nothing but fading scars. 

1...2...3...

1...2...3...

You're okay, Aiden. He's not here to hurt you anymore. You're not in pain. You're not dying. You're alive. You're safe. You're okay.

I'm okay.

Eyelids shut in hopes of stopping the tears from coming out. I recalled my mother's voice as she sang me to sleep—her warm smile, soft embrace, soothing tone, and loving touch. Ignoring the voice in my head forcing me to remember the memories I had with my father—the memories that kept me awake at night, screaming in pain from the bruises and wounds long gone. 

I hummed the lullaby she uses whenever I can't sleep. Mama would sleep beside me, hugging me tight and caressing my hair as she sang me to sleep.

Her voice was sweet and comforting. I would beg and beg her to sing for me many times, and she would laugh and pinch my cheek. She'd always place a light, feathery kiss on my forehead before I closed my eyes and uttered how much she loved me. Whenever I woke up from a nightmare, she was always there to make me feel safe.