Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
She makes me do the craziest things. Makes me want to go to a fucking vegan restaurant and then go for a romantic walk. Like what the fuck is wrong with me?
She insisted on taking a walk in central park. So we walked to central park. The restaurant wasn't far away from it so we were there in five minutes. As soon as we approached the park she fell silent.
It feels weird to not hear her talk. It bothers me. It bothers me to not hear her voice constantly. And it bothers me because I know that she doesn't talk about something that's bothering her.
"Tell me what you're thinking about," I tell her softly as we continue walking in the late summer night. I look down to her as I watch how the warm breeze of air makes her hair whirl around a little as she walks. Beautiful. So, so beautiful.
And then she finally looks up to me too for a short moment before she looks down to her feet. "I just had a memory," a not really good memory I suppose. "I'm listening." I assure her I am. I would listen to anything she has to say.
My eyes never stop looking at her, my hands never letting go of hers. I just want her to know that I am here. From the side I only see her eyes glistening with unshed tears, only one slipping down her cheeks as she lets out a teary little laugh.
"This place is one of my favorite places in the world. When I was standing in Central Park for the first time almost fiveteen years ago with my new family around me," Nevaeh stops talking as she looks up to me with a weak smile and teary eyes as we continue walking. "it was the first time in my whole life where I knew I was safe. No one could hurt me anymore."
There were too many questions at once. New family? "Why would you be scared about someone wanting to hurt you?" I want to know everything all of a sudden. Every single thing about her life before I knew her.
My question seems to be hard for her to answer but she still did. With something I would have never expected to hear from her. And before she even started talking, I knew I needed to sit down for the things I am going to hear.
So we walked to a bench, took a seat on it and I waited. I couldn't look at her. I grabbed her hand and just looked straight ahead as I listened to her.
"I was born in Toronto. On June fifth twenty years ago. I was born into a family consisting of my mom and my biological father. I am not even sure if the word family fits to this situation. It's more like we were captives in the claws of a man that should be one of the most important persons in both of our lives."
I don't fucking like where this is going. I really don't. "I had to watch my mom getting raped, punched, chocked or tied to objects, mostly chairs where I wasn't able to get her out of because the ties where bound too tight. I watched where he left her and me for days and only released her when he came back after a weekend of partying."
She stays strong the entire time she talks about her past. She's just like she always is and in the same moment she's a completely new person. A person that shows no vulnerability from the outside but breaks on the inside.
"It's weird to think that some people don't remember their childhood or the time they were toddlers. I remember every second of it. I remember every moment my dad looked at me as I screamed my soul out of my body while I heard my mom's screams and saw her blood on the floor or on herself. I remember every sick smile he had on his face as he hurt her.
Some night in march when I was three, mom saw how my dad was about to hit me too. She waited until he was asleep and fled with me. She thought it would have been the first time he hurt me physically. And she still doesn't know that he constantly laid his hands on me."
Her shaking hand in mine makes it even fucking harder not to snap. Not to lose my mind. It's the first time I look at her ever since she started talking. "He raped you too?" The word tastes so fucking disgusting on my tongue.
I have to see many rape situations in my job and I was always able to not let it get too close to me. But when it comes to her? Fuck, I don't know how to deal with her answer.
Nevaeh wipes a tear away from her beautiful face and then continues looking at me. "He didn't rape me. He just hurt me. I don't know how he did it but he hit or punched me on places where I wouldn't get bruised. Hit me in the back with full force and then insisted on changing my clothes or bathing me probably when mom would have been able to still see the outlines of his hands on my back.
I don't know how I knew at this age but I knew that if I would've told mom or anyone else something way worse would have happened to us. So I kept quiet. I still remember the brief moment that day when we arrived in Chicago after running away. I saw a spark in her eyes I have never seen before.
And that's how we met Ryan. The realest and best father a kid could imagine. We went through many ups and also through many downs in this time. But this moment where we all were standing in central park was the first time I knew I don't have to be scared or afraid anymore. I knew I was safe."
