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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: General Interest
- Published: 07/05/2013
My Rape Tale
Born 1995, M, from Oyo state, NigeriaDear Dad
On 17th august you took my pride away. You called me to your lap like every other day. Mum told me about my growing breast and you had smiled silently. I never did hesitate, of course, you are my dad. Asking me to take my top off, I did cause you are my dad and daddies protect their young ones, they never harm them. Examining my chest that was no longer bare, I felt a touch running down my veins, one I have only felt in school when my teacher mister Gabriel hit my buttocks, but cause you are my dad I thought I was safe and you were only trying to look at me. Gently I obeyed your requests, all of it until you asked me to pull my pants off. This I hesitated, probably I would have, but I could see your trousers, I could see something stretch up in there, your sweat, and your hold on me was taking away my trust already, only when I hesitated did you push me to the couch. I called on dad to save me form this devil I called dad. I called on mum, I called on God. No one heard, not even neighbors. That was the first time I was raped. By my dad, he told me he did it for a purpose, to help me, but it was painful, really painful, and it was not the last time.
That night I couldn’t sleep, thoughts of his hold ravished my mind. thoughts of him in me struck the foundation of my innocence. He came that night to my room, as I saw him I ran to my mum. She was asleep and she screamed at me. He only wanted to see if I was fine, soon he became closer as mum drew away for pursuing me from her tender supposed to be protective side. On and on mum refused to see the pain in my eyes, the soreness beneath. No one wanted a piece of my words, no one saw a change in the way I walked, and no one saw the blood behind beautiful clothes dad had bought me.
Dad was caught with my sister on a couch by mum against sisters consent. Mum and my sister only wept.
Samuel was my best friend in secondary school, he was a lanky fellow with beautiful eyes and an unusual nose, he kept an afro, and many of the beautiful girls fought to have Samuel by their side, not because of his gangling body but his shining pockets. In the whole of my big school, Samuel was the only fellow that wore pencil trousers and foot wear so many called all stars. I had helped him in many of our exams and that brought or bought him close to me. Samuel does not interest me as he did most girls. He would buy food for us, he would buy teddy for me, and he would procure wrist watches and necklaces for me. Most times When I get home mum would only smile and probably share the necklace with me. Mum knew Samuel pretty well; he is the son of our wealthy pastor. Our pastor has cars. He parked many in the church that even we had to leave our beetle car at home and trek to church because there is no place to park a car like ours as the car park is stocked with our pastors car. He is a nice man and most of the poor people came to his church. He would talk about prosperity in most sermons; really his sermon has blessed our family as at least we bought a car two years after we got to the church. Tithe is important. One tenth of your earning you must give to God and your blessings you won’t count one by one but ten by ten. He was eloquent and persuasive that even the most selfish would give all in his pocket to his church or rather to him. He not only collected money as tithe, he collected food stuffs, jewelries and many more. So many of the politicians tagged to be corrupt come to our church most times for thanksgiving and campaigning. Aany time gossip blew around like spreading fire in the woods he would say the church is not for the ideal but for the thieves, the murderers, the rapists, the corrupt, he would say Jesus did not come to die for the perfect ones but came to suffer, put up with anguish for sinners.
Samuel coming to our house was an undeserving honor and blessing to mum. She cooked the rice we were supposed to eat on Christmas. Never before has she cooked so great. In disgust Samuel took a taste of the food and politely left it. My friendship with Samuel grew as tender grasses grew into a bush.
On this day, it was a Tuesday afternoon. Samuel has sneaked in to our house. He sneaking was not necessary, probably he was tired, been time-honored as a king. He wore a round neck red top with Nike boldly written on it. As I caught his lanky self he behaved as if possessed. Maybe he was possessed, he ran towards me like a bull and hugged me. Feeling uncomfortable I had withdrawn myself too quickly but the demon in Samuel is rather persistent and unrelenting. Samuel ripped off my beautiful armless underwear; he tore it and pounced on me like a lion will on a prey. Please Samuel. Samuel I beg you, do not to this. Do not. as I spoke tears drew into my eyes. He was my best friend. He would buy gifts for me, I trusted him. I never knew he could, I never knew he would force himself on me, if he had asked I would have thought about it.
No one heard me out on that day.
In a serene environment where big trees littered everywhere, even in my class would be a sprouting root under desks. Coming from class, a fixed class, a class that did not hold. I saw three of them. All grown up and huge, they were coming towards me. I was at first happy I had company but then I was terrified. Really petrified as they called and increased the pace at which they walked towards me. I tried to run my weary legs but I only landed, been chased. I screamed. No one heard. I cried. No one heard. One after another they ravished my pride and beauty. They penetrated me forcefully. What should I do? Go home and tell my police dad that forcefully slept with me on the couch or my old possessed best friend whom I had trusted dearly and yet defiled me thinking tears and series of gift would take away the pain. Who can I speak of my pain to? To you? What will you do if not take advantage of my soul?
Dear Dad
Protect your little girls and your big girls.
Dear Friend
Save from harm your friend and your urges try to control.
Dear Mum
Listen attentively to your kids; give them the full of attentions and educate them about sex.
Dear You
Do not rape a man of his soul by appealing to his beneath. Gorgeous dresses do not have to be tempting and enticing.
Thanks for reading.
My Rape Tale.
My Rape Tale(Adeosun Olamide)
Dear Dad
On 17th august you took my pride away. You called me to your lap like every other day. Mum told me about my growing breast and you had smiled silently. I never did hesitate, of course, you are my dad. Asking me to take my top off, I did cause you are my dad and daddies protect their young ones, they never harm them. Examining my chest that was no longer bare, I felt a touch running down my veins, one I have only felt in school when my teacher mister Gabriel hit my buttocks, but cause you are my dad I thought I was safe and you were only trying to look at me. Gently I obeyed your requests, all of it until you asked me to pull my pants off. This I hesitated, probably I would have, but I could see your trousers, I could see something stretch up in there, your sweat, and your hold on me was taking away my trust already, only when I hesitated did you push me to the couch. I called on dad to save me form this devil I called dad. I called on mum, I called on God. No one heard, not even neighbors. That was the first time I was raped. By my dad, he told me he did it for a purpose, to help me, but it was painful, really painful, and it was not the last time.
That night I couldn’t sleep, thoughts of his hold ravished my mind. thoughts of him in me struck the foundation of my innocence. He came that night to my room, as I saw him I ran to my mum. She was asleep and she screamed at me. He only wanted to see if I was fine, soon he became closer as mum drew away for pursuing me from her tender supposed to be protective side. On and on mum refused to see the pain in my eyes, the soreness beneath. No one wanted a piece of my words, no one saw a change in the way I walked, and no one saw the blood behind beautiful clothes dad had bought me.
Dad was caught with my sister on a couch by mum against sisters consent. Mum and my sister only wept.
Samuel was my best friend in secondary school, he was a lanky fellow with beautiful eyes and an unusual nose, he kept an afro, and many of the beautiful girls fought to have Samuel by their side, not because of his gangling body but his shining pockets. In the whole of my big school, Samuel was the only fellow that wore pencil trousers and foot wear so many called all stars. I had helped him in many of our exams and that brought or bought him close to me. Samuel does not interest me as he did most girls. He would buy food for us, he would buy teddy for me, and he would procure wrist watches and necklaces for me. Most times When I get home mum would only smile and probably share the necklace with me. Mum knew Samuel pretty well; he is the son of our wealthy pastor. Our pastor has cars. He parked many in the church that even we had to leave our beetle car at home and trek to church because there is no place to park a car like ours as the car park is stocked with our pastors car. He is a nice man and most of the poor people came to his church. He would talk about prosperity in most sermons; really his sermon has blessed our family as at least we bought a car two years after we got to the church. Tithe is important. One tenth of your earning you must give to God and your blessings you won’t count one by one but ten by ten. He was eloquent and persuasive that even the most selfish would give all in his pocket to his church or rather to him. He not only collected money as tithe, he collected food stuffs, jewelries and many more. So many of the politicians tagged to be corrupt come to our church most times for thanksgiving and campaigning. Aany time gossip blew around like spreading fire in the woods he would say the church is not for the ideal but for the thieves, the murderers, the rapists, the corrupt, he would say Jesus did not come to die for the perfect ones but came to suffer, put up with anguish for sinners.
Samuel coming to our house was an undeserving honor and blessing to mum. She cooked the rice we were supposed to eat on Christmas. Never before has she cooked so great. In disgust Samuel took a taste of the food and politely left it. My friendship with Samuel grew as tender grasses grew into a bush.
On this day, it was a Tuesday afternoon. Samuel has sneaked in to our house. He sneaking was not necessary, probably he was tired, been time-honored as a king. He wore a round neck red top with Nike boldly written on it. As I caught his lanky self he behaved as if possessed. Maybe he was possessed, he ran towards me like a bull and hugged me. Feeling uncomfortable I had withdrawn myself too quickly but the demon in Samuel is rather persistent and unrelenting. Samuel ripped off my beautiful armless underwear; he tore it and pounced on me like a lion will on a prey. Please Samuel. Samuel I beg you, do not to this. Do not. as I spoke tears drew into my eyes. He was my best friend. He would buy gifts for me, I trusted him. I never knew he could, I never knew he would force himself on me, if he had asked I would have thought about it.
No one heard me out on that day.
In a serene environment where big trees littered everywhere, even in my class would be a sprouting root under desks. Coming from class, a fixed class, a class that did not hold. I saw three of them. All grown up and huge, they were coming towards me. I was at first happy I had company but then I was terrified. Really petrified as they called and increased the pace at which they walked towards me. I tried to run my weary legs but I only landed, been chased. I screamed. No one heard. I cried. No one heard. One after another they ravished my pride and beauty. They penetrated me forcefully. What should I do? Go home and tell my police dad that forcefully slept with me on the couch or my old possessed best friend whom I had trusted dearly and yet defiled me thinking tears and series of gift would take away the pain. Who can I speak of my pain to? To you? What will you do if not take advantage of my soul?
Dear Dad
Protect your little girls and your big girls.
Dear Friend
Save from harm your friend and your urges try to control.
Dear Mum
Listen attentively to your kids; give them the full of attentions and educate them about sex.
Dear You
Do not rape a man of his soul by appealing to his beneath. Gorgeous dresses do not have to be tempting and enticing.
Thanks for reading.
My Rape Tale.
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