Unspoken - Kiss of the Wolf Spider, Part I by Sharianne Bailey Read Free Book Online

none of the girls in my class were having this menstruation
thing, so how come all these things were happening to me? “Why does everyone
and everything hate me so much?” I wondered desperately.
    When we arrived home, Dad made it even more embarrassing by wanting to
know absolutely everything the doctor had said and done. He wanted me to
describe in detail the examination.
    “I can’t tell you, I had my eyes shut,” I answered, feeling my face burn.
    “Oh please!” Joanne rolled her eyes. “He did a cursory internal with his
finger,” she snapped.
    “You don’t have to tell him,” I whispered. “It was embarrassing.”
     “You’re so ungrateful, Jane. Honestly, your dad is one of the most
concerned parents anyone could wish for. He’s allowed to know. He’s your dad!”
     I wanted to scream at both of them and say: “Can’t you see why this has
happened. You did this, Dad. It’s your fault! I was never sore and itchy before
you started hurting me!”
     Instead I burst into tears and as I headed for my room, I heard Joanne
yelling, “That child deserves a damn good hiding. It’s high time she went to
boarding school! She’s so immature and selfish – and lately she just has a
tantrum for everything!”
    My only release was to write in my diary.
    Saturday 24 October 1987
    Things are getting really bad here at home. Joanne will not let me talk
to Susie or hold Mickey since she took me to the doctor.  She says I have a
disease. I’m not good enough for her kids! The doctor said I’m about to start
menstruating. I wonder why God is letting these things happen to me. I pray to
Him every day to save me from this hell.
    Now my dad is always doing that bad thing to me. He makes Anthony go and
play far away from the house, then he makes me lie on the bed and he hurts me.
He does it whenever he picks me up from school and Joanne’s not here. Sometimes
he even hurts me when she is here. But it’s when she’s bathing her children.
Then he’s really quick and rough. He does it to me every day. Sometimes he does
it three or four times in a day in the weekends or holidays. And he touches me
whenever we ‘re in the car together.
    I really hate him. I wish I could go away to boarding school.
    Well boarding school had certainly helped but now the weekend at home had
ruined everything. Joanne took her kids to visit her parents and made me go to
the soap factory with my dad.
    While he was showing me some new glycerine installation he put his arm
around my shoulders, pulling me close. “You know I love you, Jane.” 
    How ironic! Every time Dad said those words I cringed. Yet more than
anything in the world, I wanted to hear my own mother say them! It was more
than two years since I’d seen my mom and she never even made mention of me in
her notes to Anthony. 
    Once, I showed one of the notes to Dad and asked why Mom never spoke of
me or wrote to me. His eyes had filled with tears but he couldn’t answer. I
never understood his tears.
     “Come here and see the newly painted toilets,” he said and I knew what
that meant.
    Saturday 18 February 1989
     I hate the long weekends at home. Why do we have to have them? It’s so
not fair!    
           He hurt me again today at the factory. I had to bend down over the
loo. Boy, do the toilets stink! I nearly gagged.  I hung onto the basin on the
right. The pressure from the back was so painful. He even hit my head on the
basin this time.
         Once, before I went to boarding school and he did it at work he
swore about his rubber thing breaking. That day, when I walked out of the
toilets, all his workers were looking at me. I’m sure they knew what he was
doing. It was so embarrassing. I ran into the work kitchen and cried. At least
there were no workers at the factory today. I really hate him.  I hate myself.
I feel so ugly. So unclean. So ashamed. How do I face Tinkie and Megan on
Monday? How do I answer what kind of weekend I had? I suppose I lie