Queen Zama

"Jazzy, come out sweetheart, come to daddy. " That was the sound of a drunken man's voice as he walked through the dark halls of his home in search of his eighteen-year-old daughter, "Jasmine! Listen to your daddy and get out here before I get really angry, " he gritted through his teeth getting annoyed with his daughter's disobedience.

Meanwhile, the poor thing sat in her closet with her face buried in her knees as she sobbed completely scared for her life. This isn't the first time that this has happened. Ever since her mother had passed away, her father would take his grieve and anger out on her.

Spending countless nights being beaten by her drunken father and then attending school the next day as nothing happened.

School, on the other hand, was a whole different story. Being the weak and helpless girl that she was, students always took advantage of her. She had no friends to defend nor hang out with. Jasmine's life was the definition of living hell and it didn't take her long enough to realize that she no longer wants to live that kind of life.

"There you are princess, " her screams echoed throughout the room as her father forcefully dragged by her hair as she struggled to free herself, "Are you daddy's little girl, Jazzy?" he asked harshly, tossed her to the floor as she held her head which was slammed in the process of her being thrown on the floor.

"Get away from me, you sick bastard, " she whispered weakly as fear immediately filled her eyes when she saw how furious her father was becoming, "Why you ungrateful little, " Jasmine cried out as she continuously received the forceful blow of her father's fist being pounded against her fragile face.

By the time he was done with her, she laid almost lifeless on the floor with a swollen black eye, busted lip, and bloody nose. She was on the verge of passing out and her heartless father just laughed before stumbling out of her room. After laying there for a couple of hours Jasmine managed to pull herself together limping to the bathroom to treat another set of bruises.

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Coming out from the bathroom with treated wounds. Jasmine walked towards her closet getting inside before closing the door behind her. The light bulb hanging from the ceiling was soon turned on as she reached for chalk beside her before marking on the wall behind her clothes. On the wall was a tally of how many times her father would abuse her and how many times she would be able to take it.

Her father started abusing her at the age of 10 years so you do the math. "Just a little more, Jasmine and you'll be able to escape this hell, " she mumbled to herself before spending the rest of her night in her dark closet.

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The next morning Jasmine woke up groaning as her sore wound ached. She was beyond exhausted as she only got a few hours of sleep but she needed to get out of this away from him. Getting dressed, she made sure to cover up her visible bruises before leaving. As she was on her out, she passed her father who was slouched back in his living room chair with a glass of whiskey in his hand.