Chapter 350 Victim of Unspeakable Trauma
ADRIANA
The small teacup trembled in Anita's hands as she continued her story, her voice dropping to a near whisper that made me lean forward to catch every word.
"By this time, my sister had already become a shadow of herself." Her gaze drifted to the window, as if watching scenes from the past play out against the glass. "I thought it was because she was finding it hard to provide for all of us. She was working two jobs after school just so we could eat. My mother and that bastard would sit around and drink all day, and when we got back, it was hell. If we didn't get beaten for nothing, she'd ask us to stay outside in the rain because she was sure we went to whore ourselves around."
Anita paused, her fingers tightening around the cup until I feared it might shatter in her hands.
"And then she got sick a few years later. Lung cancer. It affected her badly, but by the time we found out, the doctor said it was in its last stage and it was too late. There was no money and no food. Alisha tried all she could, and she eventually had to drop out of school. It got very bad. I wanted to help out, but she didn't let me." Her voice cracked. "So I went to my stepfather so that he could help out. I figured that if I begged him, he'd listen."
From the way she paused, I knew that there was something wrong. This was her story, and I could tell that she had endured a lot, so I couldn't rush her.
"Take your time."
She pulled a napkin from the holder and dabbed at her eyes with it, though the tears kept coming.
"That was the first day he touched me. I was thirteen. I didn't know what it meant, but I knew it was wrong. I didn't tell anyone though because so much was going on. Alisha kept working, we kept living, my mother kept suffering. I hated coming home, but I didn't want to leave my dying mother and sister with him. It took three months of suffering, but my mother died. On Alisha's birthday."
She laughed then, a sound that was more like a sob that had been twisted into something painful. All I could see was a broken little girl who had been so hurt.
"We buried her in the backyard. There was no money for a proper funeral, and the morgue was threatening to put her body out. After her death, all hell broke loose. That's when I found out that he was touching Alisha too. I woke up one night to him shouting at her. Alisha always told me to stay away from everything that involved the both of them, even though he was killing her. But I couldn't stand back and watch him beat my sister. I knew he was going to kill her; he was so big. So I ran out of the room to help, and he caught me. He tied me down and told me how our mother was a piece of trash and how we were the ones he always had his eyes on."
I already knew how this story was going to go. She was weeping uncontrollably now, and I wanted to tell her to stop and continue when she could.
"You don't have to do this. You can just stop now, and we'll come back another time."
"No!" She said it so loud and fast that it made both Hazel and me jump in our seats. "I've started it already, and I don't think I have the mental capacity to talk about this again if I stop. I've been pushing it away for over ten years, and I just want to talk about it and let it go."
It was like she was in that spot all over again, and I hated the fact that I had put her there.
"Don't you ever go to therapy?"
"No, I didn't think I could talk about it again. I couldn't stand the stigma that it would bring. If I told anyone, they would open a police case, and people will find out. Not like any of that mattered; they already talked about my family like they had nothing better to do."
I remember being in that position. When my mother died, I remember us being the talk of the town. People didn't care that it was the Chief's family. In fact, I think they enjoyed it. And then they called me the slave girl of the family. I hated each and every one of them at that point. I couldn't even raise my head in public at first because of the way they looked at me, like I was filthy.
"Anita, we're not here to judge. I would never do that to you because I was in almost the same situation. We're only here because of Alisha. We want to know her story, to know the kind of person she was."
That seemed to make her feel more calm, and she downed her tea in one go. I'll still ask her about that later.
"When he caught me, he raped Alisha in front of me. She just stayed there, taking it. That's when I knew that it wasn't the first time. That piece of trash was the reason my sister became the way she was. Then when he was done with her, he turned to me. Alisha begged him to leave me alone, but he refused and said that this wasn't the first time and he had fun the last time. That made Alisha so mad. She couldn't handle the thought of him touching me. I saw her run away, and I thought that she was leaving me. I remember thinking that she didn't like me and she finally had the chance to leave me."
I'm guessing she didn't leave her after all.
"My skirt was already up when I felt his blood on my face. As he fell on top of me, I saw Alisha standing behind him. She had stabbed him right in the neck. She finally managed to push him off me. It was right on the floor where your feet are. We left the house after that and ran. We hid in several places—uncompleted buildings, shops. Eventually, the police caught us. And they took us to a foster home. They couldn't try Alisha because there were signs of abuse, so they let her go. She was eighteen, but that meant that they wouldn't let her take custody of me. So she left, and I stayed."
The room fell silent, the weight of Anita's revelation pressing down on all of us. Hazel had tears in her eyes, and I felt a cold knot form in my stomach. Alisha wasn't just a victim of obsession; she was a survivor of unspeakable trauma.