by Reema on September 3, 2008

in My Poetry,Stories & Thoughts

He stood alone in that cold hospital room holding his father’s lifeless wrinkled fragile hand. He was consumed with grief and anger and even though what he was about to do was hard for him he knew deep in his heart it was time. He closed his eyes and within the shadows of his mind he traveled back in time when he was a small child. He remembered how his father beat him daily for no reason. His three brothers and sister suffered the same fate but his torment was different.

His father was a tyrant who ruled with an iron fist. He would beat his children and wife endlessly. It gave him great pleasure to see them hurt as he fed on their fears and rejoiced on their screams. There were only two people who paid the ultimate price, his mother who became paralyzed after continuous abuse and him. His father left a permanent mark, a scar never to be forgotten.

He remembered once going back home after he was done playing with his friends. His father sat in his regular old chair staring at the door like a predator waiting. When he entered the house his father leaped with excitement attacking him, but this time he fought back even though he was no match to his father’s strength. He saw the shock and rage in his eyes and he knew at that moment he was doomed.

Screaming, he was pulled by the hair to his bedroom, using the bed sheets his father tied him down. Once he made sure his son could not escape he ripped his clothes exposing him, then reaching inside his pocket he took out his lighter. It was clear what he was about to do. He remembered begging him for mercy but he received none. His screams of pain still echoed in his ears, and the smell of burning flesh shall be forever imprinted in him. He remembered passing out for it was too much to bear. For days he couldn’t walk so he stayed in his room, scared, alone and in pain.

Now as a grown man he looked down at his deceased father, because of him he had no children. Even though his wife loved him dearly he saw in her eyes how she longed for a baby of her own and it pained him.
“I forgive you” he whispered as he covered his father’s face, and walked away, never looking back.

This is the story of my cousin, a brave man who survived child abuse. God bless him.

{ 1 comment… read it below or add one }

pearls September 16, 2008 at 4:01 am

only a person with a huge heart would be able to forgive his abusers


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