Broken: Chapter One

Saumya

I must have been half asleep when it happened, because it's all a blur now. Maybe it blurred with time, with me consciously trying not to think about it.

I don't know.

But it comes back to me occasionally, like a nightmare;
Vivid yet not making much sense but still managing to leave me scared and anxious.

What I remember is, that I was on the verge of a deep sleep that night, when I felt a hand on my back; feeling me up.
I had frozen for a few seconds; trying to get some clarity, trying to make sense of what was happening.

Was it a nightmare? How I wished it turned out to be one.
It didn't.

I was too scared to say or do anything.

I clearly remember that the hand had fixated on my behind.
It was all literally blurry now. My eyes had welled up.

Should I turn and see who he is? Will I be able to make out his face in the dim yellow light? Or should I start yelling? Or maybe I should suddenly get up with a jerk so that he is left dumbfounded and then switch on the lights and then yell?

The numerous questions running through my head and the lack of answers was making me feel sick. And helpless.

Fuck, he was feeling my stomach now. I could make out it was a man's hand.
Some relatives had stayed at our place that night.
Who could it be?

Slowly, the hand was moving upwards.

I felt angry. I wanted to grab his hand and bite it so hard, that he wouldn't again in his life think of doing, what he was doing now.

I discreetly touched his hand trying to figure out who he was.
My eyes were a puddle of tears by now and the tears threatened to fall. I tried to take them in for I didn't want him to know that I was awake.

"He'll be done in a while and leave." I told myself.
It was quite a long while.

"It's just a one time thing" I consoled myself.
It wasn't.

I regret not speaking up for myself. I owed that much to me. But I was shocked. Or maybe, I just didn't say anything because I wasn't  quite ready to accept the gravity of the situation.
I didn't have enough guts to deal with the truth and I didn't know if my parents had them either.

My parents had anyways always been a little cold towards me. Sometimes, I felt like I wasn't even their daughter. Or maybe, they didn't love me because I was a girl.
It had been apparent, they loved my brother more.

I remember him, squeezing my breasts.
My world had crushed when I  felt his watch on my flesh. The watch I had gifted him with so much love.
I'd saved for 3 months to get that watch on his birthday.
He had wanted it so bad.

He hadn't even said a proper thank you and that had hurt. My brother, he can be like that sometimes, unemotional, cold and a bloody asshole.

Thud! Thud!

I was brought back to the now, by the sound of my copy of 'The Notebook' falling to the ground.

'Snuggles' my pup, is jealous of my novels; maybe because other than him, I spend all my time with these. He keeps pushing them off the table.

He and my books. They are love to me.

I picked him up in my arms,  kissed him and decided to go to the terrace for a walk.
I badly needed one.

The memory had drained me.

2 years, since he last abused me; but it still feels like yesterday.
I feel as if he has left imprints of his hands all over me.
And no amount of bathing could wash them. 

P.s. This one's a long story. Will post the next chapter soon. Hope you like it. :)

Hugs
Surbhi Kukreja