The Mafia's S*x Contract

LISA FERNANDO

I heard smashing from downstairs in the middle of the night, and it woke me up. Was I asleep for so long? That noise literally brought me back to reality.

Who else could be in the house except my father? Ever since my mom gave birth to me, she abandoned me and left with another man. It was quite complicated, and I heard rumours that she didn't want to give birth to a child, and my father didn't respect her decision.

He forced her and manipulated his way into making her pregnant with me. He removed the condom while he slept with her, and she didn't know. The thought of it made me angry, but the noise coming from downstairs made me angrier.

I turned over and covered my head with a pillow, trying to block out my father's noises, but it just wasn't working. This is what I go through every night, because he blames me for her leaving. He constantly tells me she wouldn't have left if she wasn't pregnant for him with me.

I didn't want to go outside to check up on him because, no matter what I did, he'd always hate me. I heard him stomping upstairs, and it seemed like he was holding a drink.

I laid there motionless, thinking that maybe if I stay still, he won't remember to enter my room. He had removed and seized the lock of my room door, so I couldn't close it at all, and he could come in at any time. He was so creepy and obsessed with me. Every night, he'll stroll straight through my door to see if I'm in bed and then go back into his. He always referred to me as a slut even though I was just a stripper.

Before I became a stripper, he would call me a slut who seduced men for money, but I wasn't. I was just an innocent schoolgirl until he made me into the stripper I am today.

The door smacked into the wall behind it after it swung open. The mighty figure of my father stood in the doorway, and I could tell he was also holding a whip.

My heart skipped a beat, but I was determined to play it off. Keeping the pillow in front of me as a hopeful barrier, I had pretended to be asleep while at the same time watching his every move. He stood for a while like he always did every night, but tonight was different; he stumbled closer, and I knew that even though I should fight back and run for my life, he would still find me and hurt me. I waited for him to approach closer while I laid there.

As soon as he reached my side, he paused, and my heart rate increased rapidly. I closed my eyes tightly this time around, but it was all useless.

He took hold of my hair, yanked me from the bed, and threw me down on the hard wood floor. "Fucking slut... You think I don't know you sleep with men for money, you fucking slut!"

My eyes were wide open this time, and I was staring into his angry eyes. "I'm not...."

There was no use denying it.

And then the kicks started. "Don't lie to me, you slut! That's why your mom left me. She left me because she gave birth to a baby. When you were just two years old, you seduced your own dad."

And now, I could tell he was drunk! At age 2, I couldn't even do anything.

He continued complaining, "The house is a fucking mess," in between kicking me. Suddenly, the bottle of alcohol he was holding plummeted to the floor, fracturing into a multitude of glimmering shards. He staggered back as the sharp pieces of glass exploded outward, one of the broken shards finding me and causing a deep gash on my leg, a searing pain surging through my body. The adrenaline coursing through my veins made the pain more unbearable, and I clutched their wounded leg, scared that he would do more violent things to me.

I had no idea who made him angry but he seemed to have made me his punching bag.

Even though he saw the bruises under my skin, I knew better than to scream cause he would do worse.

"Do you want to know why no man will ever marry you or want to do anything to you? You're a failure and a useless child." He said it with a mocking grin but he wasn't done yet. "You know this is all your fault, right?" He dragged me to my feet by my hair, stepping on the bottles and also injuring himself like a maniac.

He said, "I shouldn't have to do this if you just died in your mom's stomach. I regret everything. I should have listened to my lovely wife and not have kids. I'm now stuck with you, bitch."

I lost it.

He made everything that has happened so far. I was the victim in all of these so why was he acting like the victim. I never grew up with parental care or love.

"What kind of father are you? Why?" I asked, screaming. That was the biggest mistake of my life. I never should have asked, and I should have never talked back at him.

He held me up against the wall and placed his forearm over my throat. The pressure on my neck was exacerbated by the fact that my feet were barely touching the ground.

I couldn't breathe. If he kept his forearm over my throat for a few seconds more, I could actually die.

"I can't breathe." I mouthed it to him, and he chuckled. It looked like he was enjoying this. Was he enjoying it? Yes, he was definitely enjoying torturing me.

"I didn't realise you were now my boss..." he mocked. "When did you learn to talk back at me? Or tell me, are all the men you sleep with advising you wrongly?"

I needed him to stop before I thought of committing suicide. I've had enough of his comments and miserable words. Like my friend would say, "Miserable people make other people's lives miserable too."

He released his grip on my neck, and I fell to the ground in a heap. I forced air back into my lungs and took several deep breaths. I was having difficulty breathing because he almost choked me to death. I put my palm on the bruise that's already there on my neck as he stormed out of the room.

It took me a few minutes to notice him snoring. He was already fast asleep. I stealthily make my way to the toilet and shut the door after entering. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I began to cry. What did I do wrong in my life? I glared at my reflection in the mirror as I inspected all the bruises. Luckily for me, they could all be covered with makeup, and I would visit the doctor or my therapist tomorrow. I looked at my leg and realised it wasn't that deep and would heal quickly.

I quickly went back to my room, and with a heavy heart and swollen eyes, I laid down on my bed, my cheeks still wet from the tears that had coursed down my face. I wasn't expecting my dad to do that to me tonight, and it extremely bothered me. I became so scared as I looked around the room. What if he came in again to beat me? I was totally scared and I knew I had to escape from his house.

The room was dimly lit, and the soft glow of a lamp opposite my bed made me comfortable a little bit due to its simple and beautiful colour.

As I closed my eyes, the world around me seemed to recede into the background. I didn't want to talk about what just happened, why it happened, or if it would continue to happen. I just wanted to leave everything behind and forget about everything.

My thoughts slowly began to drift away, like leaves carried by a gentle stream. My breathing steadied, and I soon stopped crying. The warmth of my blanket embraced me, and I felt relief and was secured for a moment. I was already falling asleep and it felt so much as if the world had wrapped me in its gentle embrace, cradling me in the comfort of sleep. Soon after, I slept off.