Hurting

Harlyn

I don’t move. Father glares at me as if he is willing to magically set me alight.

“She clearly deserved it. How many men had she propositioned for it to get to the point that one decided she deserved what she offered?” Father’s words attack me.

He thinks I deserved to be raped because I propositioned myself to too many men? I want to laugh, but my mind is silent, reeling from his new attempt to destroy my very soul.

Why does he hate me so much??

Why does he only see the bad?

Why does he always see something bad, and I’m to blame? Even this, me getting raped, is somehow my fault.

He can’t just accept it as truth. No, he has to find a way to blame it.

“She was a victim, Father, and it is wrong to blame her,” Samuel speaks, and I don’t see why he bothered; Father’s view of me will never change.

Nothing anyone says will make him change his view on this.

“She’s your daughter, our sister, and you’re calling her those vile names. Names that no woman should ever be called Father.” Samu