“You’re nothing more than a whore, every time you go there, giving your opinion when no one asks you to, why don’t you simply marry him? Why do you even live in this house? Huh?” Don’t worry, my silent friend, those aren’t my words. I just witnessed them everyday in my childhood. That was my father’s most proud argument. That was all my father thought of my mother. That was how my father always started beating my mother. He always started with some words of true praise.
Thirteen years have passed and it still seems so raw. I was only seventeen back then. How you love and hate someone in the same moment? Why can’t I only be happy or only be sad? Why does it have to be so confusing? Why does every emotion needs to be camouflaged with something else? If only it was that simple.
On most days, I was scared that he’ll beat me too, so I let my mother take the beating while I hid like a scared little puppy. At least that way I never got physically hurt. I don’t know what changed on that day, I honestly don’t know why I raised my voice on that day.