Behind Closed Doors

Trigger warning: sexual assault

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you"

I woke up in the middle of the night shouting. I want to forget, but I can't. Though I already have a husband and have kids, I can still remember the memory I never want to be reminded of for the rest of my life. I actually wish that one day I'll wake up with amnesia. But no matter what I do, this scar I have in my heart will always be here. This scar indeed, will always remind me of the most horrifying day of my life. The pain is still here, unhealed. I was raped by a drunk stranger as I was going home. I didn't know what to do. I just kept on crying, wishing I should have listened to my mom on going home early. I hoped I could turn back time, but I can't. The only thing I could do for now was to protect my daughters, Keisha and Katie from those kind of men. They get drunk all day, singing, having no shame at all and worst, at night, they're gonna find someone vulnerable that they can play with. I don't want my daughters to experience what I have experienced. I don't want them to feel this hell in me. I want to scream, but no matter how loud I screamed, it won't change anything.

It took me years to trust a man again. I married a workaholic man, but he never failed to make me feel loved and worthy. When I'm with him, I feel safe and accepted, though I never told him what happened to me. I'm gonna keep this in me until my last breath. Whenever I dreamed of it again, I thank God that he wasn't around. He is sometimes on his office or went to the comfort room. I don't want anyone to know about my past. On the other hand, as a mother, I am very strict. I'm like my mother that I once hated. After that terrifying experience, I realized how important her advises were for me. But it seems like my daughters are like me before. They don't understand why I'm like this. I get paranoid quickly when they get home late or when they ask permission if they could go somewhere. My answer is always no. Sounds pathetic, but I'm doing this for them. I want them to focus on their studies, rather than hanging out with their friends. I don't want them to be like me. Broken, wasted and subdued. I don't care if they may hate me, as long as I'm sure they're not gonna end up like me.

As my daughters grew older, Keisha started to disobey all my orders for her. She got tired of all my advices and is wishing that I wasn't like this. The mom who keeps on nagging at her. The mom who keeps reminding her to do this and that. The mom who treats her like a baby. She even wished that I wasn't her mom at all, no matter how I tried to make her understand that I'm doing this for her. That I've been there, regretting not listening to mom in the end. But her answer is something I don't understand. She said I'm close minded, busy on keeping her from the outside, but doesn't even know what is really going on. She told me that I knew nothing at all. To be honest, she's more hard headed than me because I only break my mom's rules when I really want to go out with my friends or for something that is really important. She goes home late almost every day and there is no day that I remind her that she has a curfew. We always fight that sometimes we don't talk for a day. She only talks to me when she has something to pay in school.

If our relationship isn't like other mother-daughter relationships, I'm thankful enough that I still have her younger sister, Katie, who understands me so well. She's so obedient and cheerful. She's like me back when I was still free and innocent, the only difference is that she doesn't break anything I tell her to. I don't want to take that smile on her face. I want to keep her safe with me as long as I can.

Days had passed. One night, Keisha went home drunk. I don't know what happened to my daughter. Did I lack something to them? My time? Money? Guidance? I have always been there for them. She keeps on laughing and then crying, but is not saying anything. For eighteen years of being with me, I know my daughter so well. I know if something is wrong. I know she has a problem. My youngest hugged me so tight from behind and started crying too. She doesn't want to see her sister like that. I called Joseph, my husband, to get home, but he isn't picking up his phone. We assisted Keisha on going up to her room. I can see myself on my daughter's face. Tired, miserable and ruined. I don't understand what is wrong. Katie and I decided to sleep with her. As I stood up just to get her favorite blanket, she insisted that it's not needed. She looked terrified on the idea of me leaving them both, so I stayed.

When Katie fell asleep, I searched for my phone which I left at my room. I need to call Joseph now and discuss about Keisha's attitude that's getting out of hand. As I was going to my room, I noticed the lights on Katie's room was on, so I went inside. I was about to turn off the lights, when something suddenly captured my eyes.

It was a notebook. A diary perhaps. I opened it and saw some cute pictures of her being with her sister. I saw myself carrying her. I was so happy that time. I wonder where she got those pictures. How sweet of her to keep pictures of me and Keisha on her diary. I've read a lot on her diary, from her first crush in school, to whom she called her fake friends, quizzes, and many more. I didn't know she has a crush on her best friend James. They're going to be a cute couple if they would be together. I'm okay with James because I know he can take good care of her, plus he is a good influence to her. I wished Keisha has James too. So many things written here. As I was turning the pages, it's getting darker and darker. So many erasures, her handwriting was a bit confusing now. She was writing things about me? I turned the pages, tears run down my cheeks as I read:

"My sister loves us so much. It's just that my mom doesn't understand her at all. She wants to go out somewhere just to forget the hell she experiences in our house. She wants to run away just to get rid of the memory she wants to forget. Mom is trying to protect us from the outside world, not thinking on what's happening on my sister when she is not around at all. She doesn't want to go home early so that she won't be abused by whom we think we could trust. I always hear her crying in the middle of the night. At first, I thought she was having nightmares but as I got near her room, although it was close, I heard a voice, a very familiar one...

"Don't worry I'll take care of you"

The notebook dropped. I can no longer take it. This isn't real. I am now shaking, thinking of what I have done. I was busy protecting them from the outside world, not even minding the real devil was on this house. The door was widely open as my husband entered and asked why I'm crying. I looked at him, and the memories I had from the drunk man flashed.