BROKEN

BROKEN

Kiara's pov

I could never understand why life has treated me with so much cruelty. I feel an overwhelming sadness deep within me, and it feels like my pain is going to consume me completely. On several occasions, I have tried to end it all but courage fails me. At almost seventeen years of age, I was a nobody with no personal identity, or achievement, absolutely nothing. Rather I was a sex slave to my uncle, his friends, and whoever was willing to pay to have a taste of me.

I hate the world, I hate my uncle and men in general, and sometimes I hate my parents for bringing me into this world and leaving me behind. Even though I never met them, nor had any relationship with either of them, I still despise them. The only relative I had was my mother's father and brother and both men treated me like trash.

They should have loved and protected me, but instead, they treated me with disdain and showed me no kindness or compassion. Their hatred for me caused me immense pain and self-hatred.

The constant torment I have endured has made me feel hopeless, like a broken spirit in a world that wants to destroy any hope I have left. I am filled with immense pain as I question why I had to suffer such terrible things. What twisted fate led my life down this path?

My grandfather took me into his care after my mother died from complications after birthing me, which he blamed me for. My grandfather never failed to remind me of how I was a good-for-nothing child and how it would have been better if I had died in place of my mother, he hated my father for impregnating my mother and abandoning her. According to my grandfather, my mother had blindly loved and lusted over my father who was a good-for-nothing son of a gun. After my mother discovered that she was with child, she told my father and he denied the pregnancy, and blamed my mother for being a whore and sleeping with numerous men, when my grandfather confronted him and insisted that he take responsibility, my father did what any coward would do, he ran or rather he eloped with my mothers best friend whom he had been having a secret affair with, the betrayal left my mother numb and suicidal.

My mother decided to abort me, but the drugs she took rather than flush me out made me healthier and robust, she later discovered that she was given vitamins at the clinic and not an abortion pill. Most times I wish she had succeeded, I would have been free from this ordeal called life.

After the plans to abort me failed, my mother had no choice but to carry me to full term. However, she had a hard labor and died soon after. My grandfather took it upon himself to take care of me, he was strict and blamed me for everything, especially for his daughter's death. Alcohol became his refuge and I became his punching bag.

I went to school within the vicinity at the age of five and was the oldest in class since the others started school earlier. I became the laughing stock and was too timid to make friends and students also avoided me like the plague. My grades were always poor because I had no extra time to read, my grandfather and uncle ensured that I was overloaded with chores, back-breaking chores unfit for a child my age. They claimed the chores would keep me grounded, but I knew they loved to torture me and my tears were soothing to them both, especially my grandfather.

“Anytime you cry, I feel happy, cos you have taken all my joy from me.” he would say and laugh out loud, before drifting off in alcohol-induced sleep. With time I learned to control the tears till I was all alone then I would let them flow freely down my cheeks.

After some time, I was withdrawn from school and made to stay at home. “School fees and education are wasted on you, you will never amount to anything.” my grandfather spat at me after I showed up at the end of the school term with a poor result.

“She belongs to the kitchen, I have told you a thousand times that girls like her were meant for the bottom level of life.” Uncle Sam interjected with a scowl.

And so my life of hardship became worse, the two men who were supposed to protect me did everything in their power to disparage and break me and they succeeded as I shrank into my shell and felt I was not a good person and would never amount to anything.

Unknown to me, life still had more in store for me. A day before my tenth birthday, my grandfather died after suffering from a heart attack, he had drunk as usual and was having his favorite game of raining curses at me, suddenly, he clutched his hands against his chest and slumped. I understood what was happening. However, instead of seeking help or alerting anyone, I instinctively fled to the small room that served as both a storage area and my sleeping quarters. Trembling with fear and mixed emotions, I curled up in the corner, trying to make sense of the situation. Strangely, I couldn't summon any genuine sadness for his passing, as a part of me felt a strange relief that he was no longer present to inflict pain upon me.

It was in that very corner of the room, enveloped in fear and uncertainty, that my uncle found me. He barged into the room, his anger evident, he kicked my ribs, jolting me awake from my huddled position. He accused me of being responsible for the deaths of his sister and father, casting blame upon me for their untimely demise. He made it clear that he would not allow me to have the opportunity to bring harm upon him as well.

“You have succeeded in killing my sister and my father.” he spat “I won't give you the chance to kill me too.”

His words and the physical blow intensified the already complex emotions swirling within me. I was confused and felt a twinge of guilt as I grappled with the accusations hurled my way.

*************

Uncle Sam became a terrifying presence in my life. He would punish me relentlessly for even the smallest mistakes. If I failed to clean the kitchen sink as he had taught me, a slap would swiftly find its way across my face before I could even assimilate what my offence was.

He forced me to cook his meals, but no matter how hard I tried, he was never satisfied. "Too much salt," he would scold, and then he would angrily throw the food at me. That would become my meal for the day, and he would make sure that I ate it off the floor. As time passed, he stopped allowing me to cook altogether, and my meals became fewer and fewer. Hunger became a constant companion, tormenting me and keeping me awake most nights.

My workload doubled, even though I lacked the strength to carry it out due to the lack of food. But my uncle didn't care. He unleashed his demons upon me, accusing me of being lazy just like my mother. According to him, if I wanted to eat, I had to earn my keep.

One day, I mustered up the courage to plead with him. "Uncle Sam," I begged, my voice feeble. "I haven't had any food since yesterday afternoon. I feel so weak and exhausted."

He looked at me with a wicked smirk on his face. "You dare to ask for food? Perhaps you should join your dead mother," he sneered.

I shut my eyes, hoping his wish would be granted, suddenly, I felt the world around me begin to blur, and my vision grew hazy. Before I could utter another word, everything went dark, and I lost consciousness.

************************

FEW HOURS LATER

"Where am I?" I mumbled, my thoughts all fuzzy. My eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness and I realized I was back in my room, gathering my thoughts together, I recalled what had happened and was certain I had passed out. The smell of food suddenly hit my nose, and hunger mixed with nausea churned in my stomach.

I slowly got up from my makeshift bed of old, worn-out blankets I found in the basement. It was better than sleeping on the hard floor, keeping me warm, especially during winter. I headed to the bathroom next to the storage room and splashed water on my face. It helped ease the nausea I was experiencing. Carefully, I returned to the room, attempting not to make any noise. I wasn't sure if my uncle was home, and I didn't want to find out. It was safer if he believed I was still unconscious.

I picked up the plate of food left carelessly on the floor; even a slave deserved better treatment than what I was enduring. The first spoonful of rice tasted sour, I had no doubt it was not fresh, but I had no option but to eat it. It was a choice between hunger or risking food poisoning, a grim reality I faced. Each bite was a reminder of my circumstances, a bitter compromise between survival and the harshness of my reality.

“I can see you are awake.” I jerked up as soon as the door was kicked open and my uncle's large frame filled the room. “You wasted no time to eat the food I kept for you.” he sneered.

I swallowed hard and tried not to make eye contact with him. “Woof…woof.” I must have heard wrong until I heard the bark of a dog again.

“What is that sound,” I asked.

“What sound.” Uncle Sam asked and the dog barked again. “That sound,” I said curiosity getting the best of me.

“A puppy, stupid. I knew you were dumb and you continue to prove me right” my uncle said with a frown. “I had to adopt it just to please Jessie” Jessie was his fiancee, I hated her and I know the feeling was mutual. She never stopped Uncle Sam from being abusive towards me, rather she acted as if I was not her problem.

“The dog is your responsibility.” he left without another word. The puppy came to me as soon as he left. It felt strange at first, but as time went the little dog became my friend and companion. The void of human contact was filled with its presence, and Petra became a part of my life, she made things easier and more bearable for me.

Even though my uncle still treated me poorly, I was able to survive it all with Petra’s company. The meals were scantier but I shared them with Petra, my lonely days were finally behind me or so I thought.

“Where are you taking Petra to,” I asked my uncle, I had never seen him with the dog since he handed her to me. Suddenly here he was putting her in a cage and taking her away. I panicked, I cried, and begged. “Please uncle where are you taking her to” I pleaded.

My uncle's gaze hardened, and he turned to face me with a cold gaze. "She's become a burden, and I'm getting rid of her," he replied callously.

Fear gave way to an overwhelming sense of grief. I had to protect Petra and my sanity, was all I could think of so I stood in the doorway, blocking my uncle's path. "No! You can't take her away! She's my only companion!" I pleaded, my voice filled with desperation.

My uncle's face twisted with anger, but I was too consumed by my emotions to notice the change in him. In a fit of rage, he forcefully shoved me aside, narrowly avoiding a collision with the television nearby. I toppled over, stunned by the sudden impact. Before I could gather myself and rush to the door, my uncle had already left, taking Petra with him.

Hours passed, and my uncle returned without Petra. His eyes gleamed with a sinister light as he looked at me. His words pierced through me like a knife. "You see, I did what was necessary. Now you'll learn your place," he sneered.

“I promise never to disobey you again please.” tears rolled down my eyes, I could not stay alone again, I was sure that I would die if Petra did not return

“I told you, you would remain unloved, I saw you were becoming too happy and I could not stand it anymore, I had to give you a reality check,” he smirked before walking out on me. It felt as though my heart had been torn into a thousand pieces.

I mourned the loss of Petra, I missed her terribly. It hurt more because I had no control over my life, especially my happiness. 

Days turned to nights and I lived for the worst days to come because that was my destiny.

I hardly saw my uncle as he spent more time at his girlfriend, Jessie's place. It was more than I could ask for because the less I saw of him the better for me. One evening he came back home looking disheveled, I have always known him to look his best at all times. 

"She dumped me." I heard my uncle say. I did not know what to do with such information so I said nothing. "I think something is wrong with me. I….with Jessie I don't seem capable of getting it up." My uncle continued to rant and suddenly he wept into his hands, I was dumbfounded, I'd never seen an adult cry and my uncle was the toughest man I knew.

After a while, he stopped crying and laughed weirdly. I knew the demon was pretending. I hated the way he was looking at me, his eyes seemed to roam all over my body. I turned to leave his presence, afraid of what he might do to me.

"Come to me, Kiara." His voice sounded weird. I hesitated but he barked again, so I went to him, the worst he could do was to hit me.

 "Sit beside me." 

I did as I was told and sat down. 

"How old are you, Kiara." His breath reeked of alcohol.

"Almost twelve," I replied, trying my best to hide my nervousness.

He smiled at me, and I thought he looked insane.

"Have you kissed anyone before.?" Was his lips curved into a smirk, or was that a crooked smile? 

I tried to stand up but he held me back. "Whom did you share your first kiss with?" He growled

"No one." I shuddered, my heart racing