How I wished to snuggle deeper into the covers, soft as much as it can be,
I wanted my bed to swallow me,
To cover me, protect me,
To hold me, to keep me safe,
From the night of torture which awaited me,
I shut my eyes but the fear chased away my sleep,
A prayer escaped from my lips,
A prayer to inject sanity into the alcohol filled mind of my mother,
A prayer to inject mercy into the hearts of the men,
Who hurt my soul and body for some sick pleasure,
All they lose is few dollars,
But god looked the other way whenever this 12-year-old heart prayed, it seemed,
The sound of heels clicking against the floor,
Sent shivers down my spine,
She opened the door and switched on the light,
How I hated that damn light,
The light which robbed me of the comfort of darkness
Her whiskey flavored smell filling the room,
Ah! Now be the mama’s good girl, and get dressed for our dear men,
Waiting with impatience for an exciting night with you,
Her sickly sweet hurting my ears,
She never looks into my eyes,
Eyes which are pleading for mercy,
Not once, when she makes me wear that vulgar night gown,
Making me feel like a tramp,
But then, that’s what I am,
A 12-year-old tramp,
Funding her mother’s affair with liquor,
And to keep a roof over their heads,
And to put some thing edible on the table,
Hours passed, finally the night ended
Days are flying by,
Still a hope is burning in my heart,
But the flame has reduced,
When will these dark nights of pain, torture and humiliation end?
Till when I have to close my eyes,
To allow those sick men to violate me,
Let them to take their pleasure worth their money,
When will the light of love and respect warm my life?
When will I be able to walk on the streets with head held high?
Will I ever be able to trust anyone?
Will my wounds ever get healed?
These are just some questions among many raised by a little girl who is forced into prostitution by her own mother. It is horrible to even think about such situation. Imagine the pain those little innocent girls undergo every time they are abused so brutally by their own flesh and blood. Those poor kids are robbed of a cheerful childhood which is their right and are scarred mentally for the rest of their lives. No amount of counselling can repair the damages caused to their being totally, and though time will heal all physical wounds but the mental ones persist. Children who are considered gifts from the Almighty are today at the receiving end of the torture and abuse from their own parents, the people who are supposed to cherish them, to love them unconditionally, to nourish them, to safeguard them from every evil. Abuse in homes is increasing at an alarming rate as the years are passing by.
Growing up in such a abusive family is the most traumatic and tragic experience for an impressionable child. Their minds are like clay which can be molded into the desired shape but once the shape is created, it is near to impossible to break them.
Not only are they more vulnerable to health disorders, and have serious social and emotional issues, they are also prone to poor judgement. In most cases they end up dropping out from schools/colleges and end up with drug abuse, teenage pregnancy or antisocial and criminal activities. drug addicts or substance abuse, pregnant teens, gangsters and be on the wrong side of the law, adult criminals. Their cruel abusive experiences never allow them to feel good about anything in their lives. They are never able to rely on others; they are never able to love others. They are never able to lead normal lives like other kids.
It has been observed that the men who assault their wives or live in partners also frequently abuse their kids. School-age kids who grow up in violent homes exhibit various kinds of emotions like anxiety, depression and violence towards their peers. When a parent terrorizes another parent, the kids also get terrorized. The fear and especially anger is set very deep in them and it so deep that by the time they reach adulthood, the damage is done.
Whenever I read about child abuse cases – fathers raping their daughters, alcoholic mothers selling their daughters to meet their drinking bills – I always wondered, how can one hurt his/her own flesh and blood?? How can one be so cruel to crush those little buds before they get even a chance to blossom?? How can one torture the baby, they held in their hands when it opened its eyes?? How can a woman do that to her daughter whom she nourished for nine long months in her womb? These questions don’t have any answers, because no answer can ever justify these cruel acts.
Proper intervention, prevention and support programs should be in place to help these kids to get over these traumatic situations. The public should be educated and awareness programs must be carried out to promote social and community responsibility. There is a solution to everything and we have to give our best to recognize their symptoms and put them on the road to recovery and a happy life.