Menacing secret

I grew up in a small town in NE Alabama and I was one of eight children. Our house wasn't big and it was isolated from the rest of the world. There were four boys and four girls. Thomas was the oldest and he worked in the coal mine with Daddy. Samantha was eighteen and she got a scholarship to Auburn University and was doing well in college. Brad was sixteen and in high school he was athletic and was on the football team. I am thirteen, and in 7th grade and doing fair in school. Daddy tells me that I am his special child and that I can do better. Alana is twelve and she loves to dance, someday she wants to move to New York and be a Rockette. Lloyd is ten and all he cares about is climbing trees and bothering everyone. Sheila is eight and she loves to read, Daddy calls her a bookworm. Mike is six and he loves to take things apart and put them back together, Daddy says that he will grow up to be a engineer. The youngest is Megan she is four years old and is as pretty as a button, Daddy always says that she will grow up to be a supermodel.

Daddy works in the coal mine and Mama is a housewife, but she probably works harder than Daddy with having eight children to take care of. Daddy would always start drinking alcohol as soon as he got home from work, I imagine that it helped drown out all the noise. We didn't have a TV set so Daddy would gather all us kids around him and play the guitar and sing and with Daddy being half lit it was pretty funny so I think it was better than TV. As the weather started getting cold Daddy would have me come to the woodshed with him and stack wood as he cut it. Daddy would cut some and then sit down to rest while I was stacking it. One day he called me over to him and told me to sit on his lap, he was squeezing me tightly and then I felt his hand touch my breast. I was startled and tried to get up but he held me and said " stop squirming ". I told him that I didn't like him touching me like that and he said " I will do what I want, whenever I want to so just shut up about it and if you tell anyone I will kill you and feed you to the hogs. I believed him, Daddy didn't drink beer or wine he drank moonshine and sometimes it made him happy and sometimes it made him mean. For about 3 days the same thing happened, he would sit me on his lap and touch my breasts.

The next day as we were cutting wood, Daddy told me to take my shirt and bra off. He sat there staring at my breasts for what seemed forever until he stood up and started licking and sucking on them. I wanted to scream and run but was on his second bottle of moonshine and I knew that he was serious about feeding me to the hogs. He would say " You sure have grown up to be a beautiful young woman with a beautiful body. I dreaded Daddy coming home now because I didn't want him to touch me anymore.

One day right before he was due home from work, I ran into the woods to hide from him. I could hear him yelling for me but I didn't make a sound. It was getting late and I was very hungry so I made my way out of the woods trying to avoid the woodshed in case he was there. As soon as I opened the back door, he grabbed me and said " Didn't you hear me yelling for you "? I tried to pretend like I didn't hear him but he didn't believe me and he took off his belt and whipped me hard and sent me to bed without supper. 

The next day I really wanted to hide again but I knew that the beating would be more severe. Daddy came home from work and ate his supper and then went and got his moonshine. With moonshine it doesn't take long for it to hit and he had already guzzled half the bottle. He called to me " Maria, get your butt down to the woodshed now. I ran down there as fast as I could and waited for him to come down there. I knew that he was going to have me take off my shirt again and I was not looking forward to him touching me again. This time it was different though, he told me to take off all my clothes and stand before him. Omg, no I thought I don't want to be naked in front of my Daddy. I stood there shaking and he snapped me out of my trance by yelling. Girl, you take them clothes off or I'm going to beat you so hard that no one will recognize you. I slowly started taking my clothes off and was standing there naked in front of my Daddy. He walked over and started fondling my breasts and then his hand slid down my stomach and he started fondling my vagina. He threw me down to the ground and was sticking his finger inside of me. It hurt so bad that I screamed and he just yelled at me to pipe down and then the worst thing imaginable happened, Daddy took off his pants and rammed his penis inside of me. I dare not scream but the pain was severe and I cried uncontrollably. It seemed like a lifetime before it ended and Daddy got off of me. I ran over and got my clothes and started to run off but Daddy stopped me and reminded me of my fate if I ever told anyone. 

 This torture went on for months, until I started throwing up and my body felt achy plus I was gaining weight. I had been around my mama when she was pregnant, so I knew I was carrying my daddy’s baby. I didn’t know what to do, I was scared and felt all alone. My daddy knew the signs too, and thankfully left me alone. My mama started to notice the changes in my body, and she called me in the kitchen one day after school. I walked in, and she spat the words “are you pregnant?” I told her I was, and she said “your life is over now, that was a stupid thing to do. Who’s the daddy?” I was frightened of daddy so I made up a story about a boy riding the trains and was only around for one afternoon.

I had a little girl, and even though she was a product of an evil man, she was my light. I named her Hope, thinking that maybe with her I had some. I worked hard on the farm, but was just waiting for an opportunity to escape. My mama seemed to hate me now, taking any chance to criticize me, or rap the back of my head with her knuckles. But her and my daddy both loved Hope.

When I was sixteen, I got the chance to escape. My best friend was moving out and she wanted me to move in with her. I jumped at the chance. Mama and daddy was not sad about me leaving, one less mouth to feed, but they were sad about Hope. I got a part-time job to help out and buy my daughter what she needed, and my friend helped raise her.

I was at my job at the soda shop counter when mama walked in. She didn’t even say hi or ask me how I was, just blurted out “we want to see Hope!” I told her I’d think about it, even though I was scared to leave her there. “You’re not 18 yet, we can make you come home.” That terrified me, so I told her I would drop her off Saturday while I was working. And I did, and I was nervous my whole shift. I picked her up, and she seemed happy. Daddy was sitting on the porch swing, and he told me to wait for a minute. I froze, and thought my terror was starting up again. I was thinking to myself that I wouldn’t let it happen again, I would tell someone. It had been three years and he didn’t seem so menacing. He actually seemed tired, and weak. And when he spoke to me, his voice was scratchy. “We love our granddaughter, thank-you for bringing her over.” I said okay, and I left.

Later on, after putting Hope to bed, I was thinking about it. My daddy didn’t seem like my daddy anymore. I still hated him for what he did to me, but he seemed different. I still wouldn’t trust him with my daughter overnight or for any length of time but an occasional Saturday wouldn’t hurt.

The following weekend I got Hope ready to go spend time with her granny and papa when there was a knock on the door. I got up to answer, and mama was standing there. Hope ran to her and hugged her. “Mama, I was just about fixin to bring her over.” There’s no need, child, your daddy is at the hospital. He’s got throat cancer, and there is no cure. He’s in intensive care if you want to visit, before he’s gone.” And then she left. I called work to let them know, and left Hope with my neighbor.

As I rode the elevator up to ICU, I contemplated many things. Yes, I hated my daddy, but in a weird way I loved him. I was his favorite before he started messing with me. For a long time, I blamed his drinking, if he hadn’t of been drunk would he have still done that? I cautiously peeked around the curtain, and saw him lying there with tubes everywhere. Mama was sitting beside him, holding his hand. “He’s on morphine and pretty much out of it. If there is anything you want to tell him, go ahead.” I answered her as delicately as I could, “mama, there has been a awful secret daddy had me to keep, he said if I told he would throw me to the hogs to get eaten.” She stopped me, “child, I knew. I knew that he touched you.” My mouth dropped, and I shook my head violently back and forth. “NO, you couldn’t have known! How could you know something like that and not protect your daughter? How?” I was crying hysterically at this point. I felt betrayed. She was crying too, “some secrets are meant to be buried.” “Not something like that! He hurt me, for months! And you did nothing!” There’s something you don’t know. He told me, he said I was not sexy to him anymore, but you were. He said “don’t tell anyone, or I’ll bury you where nobody will find you!” I had eight kids; I couldn’t leave him.” I turned around and walked away.

It's been years now since daddy died, I haven’t seen or talked to mama. I’ve been in therapy and got married to the therapist next door to my therapist’s office. He’s a good man, and knows everything, and he loves Hope. He tells me that I was like a sacrifice for the family, and in a way he’s right.