WANDERER’S FATE

Silent Screams

Everything was damaged beyond repair this time. And he was always around.

I had no escape.

The only way out, the only way to save my mother, my siblings, and myself, was to study harder. To go to school, find a job, and pull us out of this nightmare my father had built around us. I clung to that thought like a lifeline, throwing myself into my books as if knowledge alone could set me free.

At school, I had people I spoke to. I wouldn’t call them friends—just faces I knew, voices I answered. But at home? Home was different. There, I had no one.

We were surviving, nothing more. My father remained as cruel as ever, his presence a constant threat. Every moment revolved around not setting him off. My mother had perfected the art of silence—moving carefully, speaking only when necessary, avoiding anything that might provoke him. We all did.

As long as we stayed out of his way, as long as we answered the moment he called, we were safe.

Or so I thought.

I didn’t realize that something worse—something unimaginable—was waiting for me.

That night, I was asleep, lost in the only peace I ever had.

Then I felt it.

A touch.

Soft at first, then firmer. Fingers caressing me, moving over my body in the darkness. My mind was slow to wake, tangled between sleep and confusion. But then—then I felt it. A hand sliding between my legs.

I froze.

Someone was there.

Someone was touching me.

My heart pounded against my ribs, my breath caught in my throat. I tried to move, to scream, but a rough hand clamped over my mouth. My eyes flew open, but the room was too dark—I couldn’t see. All I could make out was the faint beam of a flashlight, blinding me as it shone directly into my eyes.

Panic. Terror. My body shook as I struggled, but the grip on me tightened.

And then—pain.

Something forcing its way inside me.

I screamed. I screamed so loud my throat burned.

But it was as if no one could hear me.