THE TRUTH THEY IGNORED
I used to believe that when something terrible happened to you, people would come together to help you. I believed my family would protect me, the law would listen to me, and someone would make sure that the person who hurt me was punished. I was wrong. When I finally found the courage to tell the truth, nobody seemed to care enough to listen. Some looked away, some stayed silent, and others acted as if what happened to me was something I should simply forget. But I couldn't forget. I carried the truth with me every day, and slowly, the girl I used to be disappeared.
That's when I saw you can never count on people when you are at your lowest. My family abounded me, maybe they did so, since I am a girl with no parents. After my parents died my uncle's family took me in, they only see me as a burden and not family believe me. But it is understandable they have their own kids after all.
My name is Amara, and this is the story of how everything changed.
I was sixteen when it happened. I remember that day more clearly than I wish I could. I remember coming home scared and confused, knowing that something had been taken from me that I could never get back. For a long time, I didn't know how to tell anyone. I was afraid they wouldn't believe me. Eventually, I found the courage to speak.
When my uncle and his family heard what had happened, I expected them to hold me and tell me that it wasn't my fault. Instead, the room became quiet. My uncle looked at me with disappointment, while my aunt kept asking questions that made me feel as if I was the one who had done something wrong. They wanted to know why I had been there, why I hadn't stopped it, and why I had allowed it to happen.
Nobody asked me the question I needed to hear most: “Are you okay?”
That was the moment I understood that telling the truth doesn't always mean people will listen. Sometimes, people hear you perfectly clearly and still choose to look away.
And I would never forget the people who did. I saw the people I called family never cared, even if I knew they never cared I just wished to see them once care. So drugged myself and went to the police station, took my statement as they always do. The guy who r***d me was only twenty one. He lives few blocks away from my home his name is Jay. I went to court with no family support, I only had one support my public attorney Ms Reed. She fought hard for me but my own family and the police commander of my community testified against. I lost the case I saw him in my everyday life, everyone at school saw me as a lier. My twin cousin same age as me made it worse by spreading rumours.
Jay kept giving that disgusting look at seventeen I decided to run from home, because I saw I am no longer welcomed in this community infact I was never welcomed to begin with. Mrs Reed kept contact with me she was the one who kept me strong. But when I dissaperd from home I cut all contact with her. So that I can start afresh where no one knows me.
So I can plan my revenge and return stronger, not being the little softie they used to know.
I wonder where is my perpetrator?
