Cheated and Pregnant (editing)

7

"Rosie, I'm so sorry, please forgive me. I didn't know. God I'm such an i***t for doing this to you," Josh rubbles on and on, apologizing. "I was thinking, and I allowed this to get out of control, I should've controlled myself, I'm so stupid to hurt you like this, to even hurt you before."

"If I knew you had went through something like this, I would have treated you better. I wished you had told me. I'm so sorry," he continued.

Tia started at him like he as lost his mind before she blurted. "Why are you apologizing to her? You didn't r*ped her. She is just a wh-" Josh shouted at her cutting her off the word wh*re could leave her mouth.

"Shut the f*ck up Tia, haven't you done enough already. Do you think talking about someone's experience and judging them is something you should do? Especially by someone like you," Josh added glaring at her. Josh was defending me, but his defense meant nothing to me, not after what he did, what they did, and he is the cause of all this, for entertaining Tia.

It felt like there was a lump in my throat as I try to hold back my tears, fighting the memories that are trying to resurface in my mind. I have suppressed them for so long, and now I feel them coming back with a vengeance to be remembered. The only reason I told Tia is because I trusted her enough to tell her, and my therapist did tell me it was better to talk about it than bottling it. I wasn't in a good place at the time, and Tia was there. At the time she looked like someone who cared for me, and showed that she wished I didn't have to go through what I went through. But that is different from now, now she is mocking me, judging me, and calling me names. She is using the very thing that I trusted her with to tear me down. That is why your secrets are better kept to yourself.

Tia just destroyed years of counselling, and therapy sessions. Since the a***e started, and after it ended, every day of my life, waking and sleeping, as been a nightmare. I thought I couldn't escape before and after. First, it was his hands that tortured me, and the his dead eyes in the end. I tried to shake of the feeling, his touch, his breath, his words, but they took ahold of me, and before I knew it, I was dragged off into a long forgotten memory.

It wasn't always like this, but everything changed for me, and I could not be normal again. i lost myself trying to hold on to what is left of me after the monster came. I lost everything, my friends, and my joy.

I thought about running away, but where would I runaway to. I have no one, and I don't know my mother's side of the family because they never showed up at her funeral. I heard she was disowned because she had me, but what family cut ties with their only child. It was just me, my step dad, and few of his family members.

When my mother die, he blamed me for her death, saying I was a parasite that killed my own mother. A week later things turned to the worst for me. There was no escape because he started channeling his grief in drinking, and when he drinks he beats me, cursing me until he was satisfied.

He always curse me saying that he is wasting his money on me. How the b***h died, and left him with a brat to feed, that's how he started to refer to my mother. I arrived home after walking home for 20 minutes. I had started praying before I left school that he wasn't home, that he died somewhere, and will not be coming home. It's a pity the Lord doesn't answer to bad prayers, but he could answer the first half.

I opened the door as silently as I could, and made my way inside closing the door silently. I tipped toe from the door, and to the entrance into the living room. It was empty and littered with empty beer bottles. He must have drank himself drunk.

I listened, and there was no noise in the kitchen, so I made my way upstairs, trying to be as silent as I can because I had to pass his room to get to mine. I stopped, and listen for snoring or any sound to tell me he is in his room.

It was silent no snoring, no sound, so I went to my room. I let out the breath that I was holding, and let my body relax. I went back downstairs to prepare dinner, and I started cleaning up. He's must be out drinking, so that means that he isn't going to be home until late tonight. Which means I can get to clean, and cook before he comes back home. I could eat when I am finished, and then lock myself up in my room.

When I finished cleaning and cooking it was going late into the night. It took time for me to finish everything, seeing that I had to clean the house from upstairs to down stairs, do the laundry, and cook. I was so exhausted that I didn't get to eat because as soon as I laid down to take a break, I drifted off into dream land. I was awoken by the sound of someone stumbling and crashing into things, the noise was coming from downstairs. He was stumbling and hitting over things. I started to chant in my mind 'Please let him pass out'. I listen to his drunken steps, his cursing words whenever he hits something, and his incoherent mumblings. I trembled on my bed, and it was not from the cold.

Every time he goes out and drink then comes in drunk, I experience fear. My body trembles, my heart race, and I try to hold my breath, fearing that if he hears me breath he'll find me, and attack like a wild animal waiting to pounce on his prey.

I was waiting, I knew what was going to happen if he remembers that I exists. It always happens when he gets drunk, and on some occasions I will escape. I was hoping that tonight was one of those nights. One of those nights where I escape his beatings. Sometimes he beats me until I am unconscious. When I heard his bed room door slammed closed, I relaxed slightly, knowing that I didn't lock the door to my bedroom. As long as I am not in his sight, I can escape. As long as my door is locked, I will not be a victim of his drunken beatings.

I listened to the silent house, waiting if he will leave his room again. When the house remained silent, I decided that it was safe to leave my room to use the bathroom. I did so quietly, then I went downstairs to get a cup of water because I was thirsty. I had forgotten to bring a cup of water to my room because I was trying to get everything done, so I could hide away from him. If hadn't fell asleep, there wouldn't have been a need for me to go downstairs for the glass of water.

The sound of my stomach asking for food grumbled into the empty kitchen as soon as I entered. The sound was so loud that I had to pause, fearing that the sound as alerted him of my existence. When silence continued to rain, I made my way to the cupboard taking out a glass to get the cup of water.

I drank the water feeling refreshed. I refilled the glass to bring it up to my room in case I wake up again, and I want water to drink. I turn around ready to run back up to my room, but when I turned I came face to face with the very man I was trying to avoid all night.

His sudden appearance made me jump, and the glass slip out of my hand, shattering on the floor. The sound loud in the quiet night, the water that was in the glass spilling every where. My eyes widened in shock, and in fear of what to come. Before he could say anything, I started apologizing, bending down to clean up the broken glasses.

I didn't hear when he came down stairs, or when he entered the kitchen. How could I not hear him stumbling around the house? He was so noisy with his arrival, but how comes after a few minute in his room he walks like a sober man?

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I apologized profusely, picking up the broken glass from the floor with my bare hands. "I'll clean it up." I stuttered out bending down to clean up the mess.

"Grace?" He said my name, and I shivered in fear. I didn't like the way he said my name, I don't like when he says my name, and I wish he could just forget me.

"Yes dad?" I answered meekly. He was not my father, but when he got married to my mother, he said it was okay for me to call him daddy. I was a little hesitant at first, but he insisted that I called him by that since we were now family. I was young, and I was excited that I finally had a father like the other kids in my class. He was nice to me, he brings me gifts, and he treats me like his own, like I am his lovely daughter.

"Stand up." He commands, but I was frozen in my position. I was fearful of what he might do to me when I stand. He didn't shout, but commanded in a gentle manner, but how can I trust him. When I know the demon of a man he is, and what he has done to me. He's a monster. A monster sent to torment, and beat me close to death.

I can never report him. How can I? When he threatens, and beat me. He promised to kill me if I ever tell anyone. I want to escape, to be free, will the police grant me that freedom that I so longed for . What if they can't protect me from him? I live with him, and if he thinks that I reported him to the police, only God knows what he would do to me. I don't think I could live to see another day if he knew I told someone how he treats me.

When I didn't stand like he told me to, he grabbed me by my hair, lifting my head up, so I am staring into his angry bloodshot eyes. I cried out in pain, my hands grabbing his hands that have a tight grip in my hair. The broken pieces of the glass that I took up falling to the ground. Before I could try to release his hold, my cheek was greeted with a slap.

"Shut the hell up. When I tell you to do something, you better do it. No questions asked, and no hesitation. Do you understand?" He tightened his hold in my hair with every word, and all I could do was whimper in pain. He pulled at my hair again, when I didn't answer him immediately.

"Yes, I understand." I whimpered out through the pain.

"No, I don't think you do." He pulled me closer to him, and I stepped on a piece of broken glass. A tear slip from my eyes but I dare not cry out again.

"I do. I do. Please it hurts." I said begging him, hoping the slap to my face, and the tight grip in my hair WAs the only thing I would have to endure tonight.

"I still haven't punish you for breaking that glass," he announced, pointing at the shards of glasses. Tears started running down my face at the thought of the pain that I was going to experience. I wished for an escape, but there was none. Not with the tight grip that he has in my hair. I looked at him, my eyes pleading, but it was no use. He wasn't going to pardon my error.

"I'm sorry, I'll clean it up. I'll replace, I'm getting paid this weekend, and when I do, I'll buy back the glass, please don't hit me, I'm sorry," I begged him, I knew it was useless, and there was no hope getting through this monster of a man.

"Are you telling me what to do?" He asked narrowing his eyes at me. I shut up immediately, swallowing the words that I was going to say as I shrink away.

"No, no, I wasn't telling you what to do." I didn't hesitate to reply doing so quickly, fearing that he will hit me for telling him what to do, and not answering.