The Billionaire's OUTCAST

My name is Uyathakatha Emzaneni but people call me Em. My name means the village witch in our language, Zulu language. I was born in a small village where everyone was happy. This was until, as word have it, I was born. I was never allowed near anyone, or anything for that matter. It was believed that I would bring death to whatever I touched. I never knew why everyone hated me so much, but I had a life to live, right? As a young girl, I would help my parents with chores. Not to whine but, who let's their five year old do all chores without as much as a mere thank you or even buy them clothes as mine were always tattered? I was never allowed to go near any live thing. This meant I would not get near the animals or human beings. Unfortunately that included my very own parents, or so i thought. Ours I wouldn't say was a nice cozy family. We weren't poor either as dad would provide for us. He was a truck driver for a big company. He would transport cereals and cooking fat all over the country and some instances, he would take them outside the country. He was a drunkard though and ours was a very chaotic family, especially when he would come home everyday. This meant we had to do everything early before he would land home. We would call him Simba, of course in his absence. If he got wind of it he would beat us up ruthlessly. Mama was a good woman, or so I thought who would always be there for us. Did I say we were a family of three? Two girls and one boy? Did I also say I was the first born? Guess I didn't. My sister and brother were my parents favorite while I would get all the beating for their wrong doings and mine as well. This always begged the question whether I was their real daughter. At the age of seven, I knew how to do everything. From cooking to cleaning, from sowing, pruning and reaping. I was never allowed to eat together with the rest of the family and things were worst when papa wasn't around. Not that he hated me any less, but at least I would be shown mercy when he was around. This would make my sister and brother hate me even more. When of came to chores, they would always do the opposite of what they were told and j would carry the blame. For instance it always was Maya's work to clean the utensils, but she would use them then later say I was the one. Who does that? In school I was always the first, never was second. This didn't sit well with mama. She would say that I used them and I would get a beating. Papa would come home drunk and beat the shits out of mum. We would run away and hide at grandma's who wouldn't keep her moth shut. I hated her with a passion. We never got along. We would run to her house and she would call over her son and tell him where we are hiding. He would come over and get a hold of mama's hair and beat her mercilessly. It was the worst scene ever. At nine years, one day as I came from a friend's, my uncle accosted me and sent me to his bedroom, it was one roomed house where his many prostitutes came to. He had never married as he always cited that he was still young. Who is young at twenty three? I always wondered. On this day he sent me and being the respectful girl I was, I ran to his house. He followed me closely behind and I never stopped to think why he would send me and follow me. We both got to the house together and he undressed me. He stuck his finger inside of me making me since in pain. He warned me that if I made a sound he would kill me and if I said a thing to anyone he would also kill me and he would make sure I was sent away from the village for good. This made me fear him but what would I do, I had to adhere to his commands. I was just a kid. He kept rubbing my c**t and inserting his finger. Moving it in and out of me until he was satisfied. He sent me away telling me to be going to his house everyday. The next day he waited for everyone to head out. It was my day to do the house chores. He came over calling out on my mama. I heard him and kept mum. He could see me from where I bent washing the utensils. "Is your mama in?" He asked me coming closer. "She has left for the farm." I answered fearfully. "Then this is the perfect time. Come with me." He told me as he took my hand. He entered our room and undressed me. He shove his dirty fingers inside of me yet again. I winced in pain and cried but he wouldn't let me go. "Are you feeling sweet? Is that why you're crying?" He asked me "You're hurting me. Please stop. We were taught..." "Taught by who? Your mother who can't keep her legs crossed or your auntie who f***s everyone she sees?" He asked me mockingly. I loathed my mother with every fiber of my body at that very moment. "Stop please." I pleaded with him tears flowing freely from my eyes and holding onto little hope that he would just let me go. He removed his shaft from his tattered trousers and placed at my entrance, rubbing it I'm circles. I lay there, hopelessly waiting for what would befall me, I knew what would anyway.  Before I could think much he thrust inside my small womanhood, destroying me, what I was now was someone without dignity. He kept thrusting and thrusting and I cried in pain. Before long I saw mama at the door.