Chained

My mom was an 18 year girl when she gave birth to a baby girl on 28 July 1985 who is me. I struggle to figure out why she did not threw me in the rubbish bin as some of the cruel women do, because the aftermath was a nightmare. She started looking for a job while moving to an old abandoned flat where she was not paying any rent. She finally found a job at a surgery of a certain doctor. I was three, when she started dating this doctor. He was a tall muscled body builder former militant and a doctor by profession. He was staying in a farm out of town with his parents. My mom and I moved in with him to this farm. From first day, life was hard between me and my stepfather together with his family (Though according to me he was my real father as I was told). His family was nicer to my mother but I was treated like trash. Strict rules were enforced just for me only. Things became worse as one of my cousin (father’s sister’s son) was staying there in the farm with us. One day he stole money from my grandmother’s purse. And I was accused of taking it. I was seven years by then. That was the first day that my mom showed me how sadistic she was. She beats me in order to impress my grandmother. I thought maybe I was not her daughter. She was demon possessed (according to my imagination). My cousin was always a sellout as he knew that I am not favorable to the rest of the family. I was more brilliant and my grades were good when I started my primary school in 1991. The relationship between me and my mom was no longer a mother daughter relationship.

After staying some months, we moved to his mansion in the suburb. The house was the last on the block. My mom was pregnant and she was on break from drugs at that time but still tries her best to please him by abusing me. Only my dad was still using them and he was always harsh and hostile at me. I didn't know what to do, or what to say. I would only get beat if I did something wrong. Then, things began to get worse and worse. Of course she beat me for whatever reason. On that time I was always wearing long sad wet face because I was always crying at a place called home. There was one occasion where she randomly threw me in my room and slapped me. I heard her scream outside my door: "God, why did you curse me with this demon!?" I have never forgotten this. It was 22 May 1992 when my mother gave birth to a baby boy called Prince. I was the sacrifice for his birth and I was doing grade two. I took responsibility for taking care of Prince at an early age. I was working from sun rise to set as unreasonable punishment. We were staying in a mansion but for me it was like hell. Slightly mistake that I could do would lead me into beatings. In 1997 during school holidays I was sent to his parent’s farm to help there. We used to plow with some horses. I was used to hold rein to direct horses to keep them in the furrow and my grandfather was guiding them with a whip. Sometimes he used to whip me on my hands intentionally where I would drop those reins down and ran away. By that, my grandfather told my father that I don't want to help him. My dad said it will be better if I must be harnessed with those horses to avoid what I was doing.

I remember when I was in elementary school, my teacher had written something about me being stubborn on my report card, I thought my mom couldn't read so I changed the date on an old report card and gave it to her. She noticed it and read it and found it was an old report card, this made her so angry, she went and got one of those big orange outdoor extension cords and began whipping me with it. While beating me I attempted to run out the back door and she screamed you “lil ***** if you leave out that door I'll kill you”. I stood there and let her beat me. I started defending myself by grabbing that cord. She took some handcuffs and handcuffed me to a post in the garage then beat me until I wet myself and leave me there overnight. The next day she took me to school, and told the teacher she beats me and why but teachers didn’t believe her. I remember one of the teachers called the social worker. But the social worker was her friend. I would always have marks on my wrists and neck. Once, she put a rope around my neck and pulled really hard. I went to school the next day with a rope burn around my neck. I had to lie to the other kids, but I don't remember what I said to them.

One of my mom’s objectives was to make me feel inferior to everyone in the community. On that one she succeeded as I started to despise myself and felt useless. Some kids might admire my background by looking at my nice clothes whereas I was suffering. I was always quite without any freedom. That silence made her accuses me of being stubborn because every time when she shouts, I just kept quite like I was not there. One day I found my mom seated in the living room alone. I created a chance to chart with her though I knew I would get some negative results. I was asking her why she’s doing this to me. She told me that I do not listen, I am a result of rape, I am stubborn and she is doing this because I am a girl and she is teaching me how to be responsible. I was puzzled by this answer. “Is this the right way of teaching your daughter a life?” I didn’t get it. Instead of giving me some tips to approach my teenage stages she only abuses me. I was living my life alone but with a lot of her rules and control. She told me that I must never try to run away as I will get arrested at the spot.

In 1995, my parents decided one day that I no longer needed a room. I came home one day to find the computer in my room in place of my bed, which I found they had thrown out. My mother said she wanted a new place to put her computer and my room was the perfect place. I didn't understand why she didn't use the one that I was moved to. When I asked, her reply was simply that my room had a better view. I now was forced to sleep in the room at the basement that has a bathroom. It seemed to me that they were forcing me further away from them. I was no longer allowed the privilege of sleeping in the room next to them. My mother used to tell me that I was worthless or going to burn in hell for being inpure. Some of the days I was not allowed to eat. Then I started to steal food. I was good on stealing food as they never find me. Besides all those challenges I don’t remember if I ever steal money at home. One night when I was twelve, my parents took me to a movie and I was very excited to finally spend some time with them. That was the one and only time I felt like she may love me. I thought it was a real turning point of the atmosphere .They didn't speak to me the entire time. After the movie I tried to talk about it with them, being excited, but it resulted in an argument for some reason. They spent the whole night talking to each other. I felt so forgotten. When we got home after the movie my mom saw my brother standing in the door waiting for us. He ran to her and hugged him and started talking to him with a huge grin on her face. My mother ignored me as I walked past. I ran downstairs and cried in my room for what felt like hours. I cried so hard it hurt. I felt so much pain in my heart. I wanted to die. I knew that my parents could hear me, and I secretly wanted one of them to tap on my door and hold me and say: "I love you, everything's gonna be alright," but they never did. Eventually I came out of my room and my mom was still speaking to my brother. I said, "Hi mom, I love you" but she looked right through me and didn't reply. I tried my best to please my mother but nothing made her to be happy with me. I knew that she was capable of love—she loved my brother. She didn’t hit him, ever. I didn’t understand her because if I am sick she would try by all means to treat me well. Literally including my dad as he would use his medicines for medical treatments.

After finishing the 7th grade, On the night before my first day of high school, I sat in silence in my room trying to think about how my life would get itself together for high school, while listening to my parents talk about me in the living room (thinking I couldn't hear), about how I have no future and how I'm a waste of money and how I should be given a serious punishment. My mom just said she is waiting for me to get stronger. As I was useless, she will use me. I felt more curious about this type of punishment. Finally they disclose it during their discussion. They agreed that I must be sold to some other country as a sex slave or else their own slave, where I will be treated as a farm animal like a donkey if I keep on doing some troubles as I look and behave like one. According to me I thought it was a myth as it never happened in this world. There was no time for me to play as I was always doing laundry for all, cooking, cleaning and gardening. I felt that I was really a slave. I never knew that there might be any worse treatment than the one my mother was giving me. Several times it happened where my mother would start driving me to school, randomly start screaming at me, and then drop me off in the middle of the road so I would have to walk to rest of the way to school. This happened in the rain, in the snow, wherever. For this reason I was so often late for school that the school contacted my parents. They told them it was because I could never get up early enough. Several times I waited at school for them to pick me up, but they never came. One time it was blizzarding outside and I did not have a jacket. I was not allowed to "loiter" inside the school so I sat outside in the cold for three hours waiting for them to pick me up. They never came. I felt so abandoned and alone. I walked four miles back home in the cold and snow. When I got home my mother simply replied: "Oh, I forgot you were at school."

My mother liked to call me insane all the time. As a teen, I tried fighting back. I was becoming tougher per each day but my parents were still powerful as I would not manage to fight them. My mom was able to convince some social workers that I was rebellious at home. I had always felt jealous of Prince, who never seemed to do any wrong in my parent’s eyes, and it accentuated during this time. My parents would constantly compare me to him. I was ugly and he was bright and I was reminded of it all the time. I was told that I must understand that Prince is superior to me in many ways as he was a boy. He was four years old and I was twelve. That caused a lot of fight between me and Prince. He started to be more despiteful to me. One day, as Prince was provoking me on their presence, I gave him a light slap that made him cried like he was seriously hurt. I paid that severely. My mom grabbed me with my long hair closer to her and commanded me to joined my hands together, when I tried to explain, she gave me a slap and puts some thick short sticks between my fingers and pressed them hard. That was the real torture that I ever had. My mom told me that she wished if that abortion succeeded because she would not be getting problems like those I was giving her. My room was not fully furnished, but a bed and study desk. Whereas Prince’s was fully furnished as even a TV was there. I only watch the one in the living room. I started hating myself of being a girl. I remember being screamed at constantly and being told that everything was my fault. I cannot remember a single happy moment at home. Home was riddled with screams and abuse. I was forced to apologize for things I didn't do. Even that social worker used to believe her. In one occasion, I was in the house when Prince bumped on me. I pushed him and warn him that if he continues with his attitude I will kill him and his parents. He told them that I warned him. They never take my message seriously. There was no one whom I can ask whether they were my real parents or not. I just believe that they are my parents as they used to tell me that.

My both parents were considered quite respectful people in the eyes of the public and community and few people manage to visit at home. No one would know their behavior or suspect if they were abusing me. That gave my parents chance to do their dirty work on me without any interruption. As I never knew my mom’s family or parents, I only considered my father’s parents as relative. But there was no help I would get from them. One day when my mom was away left with my dad. He grabbed me into my bedroom and raped me. When my mom came back I told her what happened. Instead of her helping me she turned the blame on me saying that I wanted her to fight with her husband. The beatings started. I slept tearfully without given any food. I felt abandoned, worthless, and unloved. He never did it again though I never knew what they have talked about. It was really difficult that the one person you could depend on wanted nothing to do with you. I didn't have money for lunch. I had to tell my friend I was on a diet even though I weighed 90 lb. I would go to the library. Studying helped me coped with the hunger. Sometimes I ate my friends' leftover. Funny thing was my parents were not poor. We lived in a 5 bedroom secured gated mansion whereas I was sleeping in the basement and starved. All I could think about that time was "If I'm a good girl, my parents would love me again." That didn't happen. I was totally forbidden to hang up with boys. I remember one day when one of my classmate met my mom in town and greeted her. Finding out he knew me, I nearly got in big trouble when she gets home.

Life became hard and harder per each day and I was not allowed to go to town as a result from my first run away attempt. I ran away from home at 15 but was soon betrayed by police. That misery moment started one night when I came home after playing with some kids down the street. “Where were you?” my mother demanded. When I told her, she yelled, “You didn’t tell me where you were!” I boldly shouted back. She sent me to my room, and I knew she would tell my stepfather to punish me. When his car pulled up in the driveway, I slid under the bed. I heard the screen door open, then voices, then his footsteps as he stomped down the hall. He slammed open my bedroom door and tried to yank me out from my hiding place. I scrambled out the other side, jumped over the bed, and made a break for the door. But he grabbed me, dragged me to his bedroom, and pulled up my dress. The whipping was the worst yet. Each blow felt like a thousand bee stings, breaking my skin and leaving purple welts. I crawled back to my own bed. Please, God, don’t let me wake up, I prayed that night. Don’t ever let me wake up again. But wake up I did. That next morning felt slow and strange, like wading through quicksand. When I arrived at school, my uniform was disheveled; my hair was a mess. I knew kids were staring. I lowered myself gingerly into my chair, trying to hide my pain. Everything was a blur that day: I remember the teacher’s mouth moving, but no sound coming out. The trees outside the window looked like blotches of paint, their leaves blending into the blue sky above. Then time to go home comes again.

Standing outside the house that afternoon, dreading to go home. I walked slow, fear rising in my belly, wondering if I had completely finished all my chores before I left for school that morning. I wanted to just keep walking, not head in the right direction, to turn and run the other way but the fear that wanted me to not go home was also a fear that said I better get there. I felt the deepest sense of dread. “How was school?” my mother asked when I walked in the door. I said nothing, and headed straight for my room. “Don’t you ignore me!” she barked, trailing after me. I refused to reply. Just as I entered my room, she came at me from behind, slapping me across the back with an electric cord. My eyes were already wet. I tripped and fell, trying to get up as she whacked my thighs. “next year, you’ll be pregnant!” she yelled, punctuating her prediction with a stinging swat. “At 18, you’ll be in jail!” Another swat. “At 21, you’ll be dead!” Swat. That’s when I decided: I will prove her wrong. I was 15 then. Later I opened my bedroom window, climbed out, and walked away. Wearing a T-shirt and a short, I headed for the nearby beach. I had no real plan, just to escape. I remember the ocean breeze embracing me like a big, warm hug. I buried my feet in the sand; I waded in the water, dreaming of floating far away. I managed to survive for several days on my own, sleeping in public restrooms and eating scraps tossed out by tourists at the local cafés. But each day was a struggle, and my mind started to play tricks on me. I saw a girl in a fluttery dress at an ice-cream stand, hugging a woman in a pantsuit—her mom. “Maybe my mother missed me”, I thought. It felt as if years had gone by, and so I went back home. That was the night my parents handcuffed me with some wrist cuffs and tied my legs to the bed with the nylon rope. I screamed and cried, and my stepfather told my mom to shut me up. She forced two sleeping pills down my throat, and I lay there, furious at myself for coming back. How could I have thought things would be different? Stupid! When my parents left the room, I worked on wriggling my way out of the rope. I got one leg out, and used it to help kick away the rope from the other. Out the window I went, down the block, and into the bushes and ran straight to the police station.

That was the day that I ran away. I met another woman and requested her to unlock those wrist cuffs. She did and took me to the police station. I wanted to report for child abuse. Unfortunately I did not manage because I was approached by one of the officer who knew my family. He was also brainwashed by my parents that I was a rebellious child. He wanted to know what I was there for. By calling my mom and asked if there was something wrong at that time of the night made things worse. That lady started to explain my story to the officers. As I was not aware of what he was doing, I was just surprised by arrival of my mom to the police station. The argument started between my mom and that lady. My mom was accusing the lady for protecting me without any knowledge. My mom confessed before the authorities that I was using drugs and I am a runaway child. Instead of me getting helped, she laid a charge against me of running away. Fortified by the officer who was brainwashed by my mother, the authorities said they won’t lock me in as I was a minor, instead I must get a house arrest under my parents’ supervision. I jumped out of the charge office just to run away and another officer grabbed me and brought me back while I was yelling and crying. My mother made it to the police station, she tore into me right there and I yelled to everyone, to anyone that would hear me, "Don't you see why I don't want to go home?" When that lady tried to explain, some officer threatened her that they will charge her for defeating the ends of justice. That was the worst betrayal that I received from justice. My mom took me back home and telling me that I won’t ever get out of the house again because there is no one who will protect me as I witnessed from the law’s failure. I got it worse that night, worse than I had ever gotten it. She spit on me and called me such horrible things a mother should never say to her child. She told me the way in which she can kill me and there is no one who will find it as I was now officially her prisoner and that she brought me into this world and she would take me out of it. I have heard other parents say this to their children as a bit of a joke but she was serious. That was my dropping out of school at my tenth grade in 2003. I am still not sure what she told my teachers as I never saw them again. All my pants were burnt and I was stopped from putting on any pant as she said they were causing me to be more stubborn. Only dresses and skirts of her choice was my style. Though they were nice and expensive, I didn’t like them because they were not my choice. My cell phone was taken and I was totally restricted from either listening to the music or watching TV. One day I collected some sleeping tablets from my mom’s room to overdose and kill myself. I failed because my dad found me while I was still taking them. That day I was really beaten and witnessed the pain of the leather belt. He hit me until the belt cut into pieces on my body. He said I rather die outside of his house. Still I didn’t understood why he said I must die outside his house whereas he had caged me. I can’t remember if my parents ever hit Prince. They used to talk to him nicely if he has done something wrong or the maximum steps would be referring him to the way I was punished.

When I was sixteen my mom, Prince and dad left me in the house alone. They were going to Europe (Germany) for my dad's projects. I was relieved from regular beatings. I was a free bitch. They told me that they will spend the whole year in Europe. As I was still under their detention, my mom let me out expecting me to do all gardening and chores. She told me that I must make sure that I don’t wander around town as I will lead her in trouble for releasing me. I was given my phone back again for them to communicate with me. Restrain order was that I must only go to town to get money from bank and shopping only. I started to go out of the house to town. My plan was to run away for good and live the life of my choice. I didn’t want to turn into the street kid because I was scared of the cops. My only challenge was money as they used to deposit a small amount for me to utilize on basic needs. I moved from basement back to my old room with my stuff without their consent. I finally met a certain gangster. I got involved with him so that he can support me financially and his name was Mike. He used to buy me expensive clothes, took me to the movies but never gave me cash. He only paid for what I want. One day he gave me R15000 cash and told me that I must keep it for him in my room for his safety reasons. In one occasion when I was searching in my parent’s bedroom I found my father’s credit card and Mike saw it. I wanted to use it for my runaway. He took and exhausted all cents that was in it. I was also scared of Mike that he could kill me if I leave him because he used to threaten me with his gun mostly if we have an argument or if I tell him that I want to leave him. He used to call me Bitch and beats me a lot if I protest. I didn’t mind much about that because he was financially supportive though he was not playing any role in my emotional support. The yard at home changed into a forest because there was no one who was taking care of the house. I stayed in Mike’s place as he wanted me to do his chores. I had a tattoo that Mike forcefully drawn me on my arm written Max loves Mike. I also like to stay with him so that I will steal his gun and kill him with my parents. It was one winter day when I manage to steal the revolver from his car and hid it in my room. Unfortunately there were no bullets. Then another day again I manage to get four bullets from Mike’s case and hid them in my handbag. That same day I suggested to him that I must go home after some months since I abandoned my parent’s house. My aim was to collect my gun to kill him and collect money that I hid in the house so that I will run away for good where they (My parents and Mike) won’t find me again. I knew that I will also be away from law that never wanted to rescue me.

Unfortunately things never went the way I planned. Time of sorrow came that night when Mike was dropping me at the gate of the house. I did not notice that lights were on as our house was protected with a wall with electric fence on top and aluminum gate in which you can’t see inside. I punched the code to open the gate and got inside then it closed and locked. Mike then drove off after making sure I have got in the house safely. Then I realized that there was someone in the house as lights were on. Immediately when I hold a gate to open it again to run away, I heard a voice coming from a tree commanding me to stop. That was my dad, and I was already late to run away because the gate was so slow to open. I knew that I won’t make it. I was still holding my handbag. He grabbed me on my hand with his bold hard and muscled hand leading me to the kitchen door while I was shivering with fear and winter cold. I was wearing my high heeled shoes with my favorite black mini dress. He seized my handbag and opened the door then we get inside. After that he closed it with a burglar door then locked. I felt my blood flows through my spine. He directed me into his bedroom and I was commanded to take off my shoes and kneel on the winter cold tiles. My mom was angry like a master commanding his slave and started searching me with my handbag where she found my cosmetics together with those bullets and then interrogation started. They wanted to know how did I spent their credit card, why did I left the house alone, where I was coming from and where did I get that money that was hidden in my bedroom. Answer was not there as I was just silent looking down on the floor with full of surprises of their sudden return, because I knew that they will spend the whole year in Europe as I was told. After some time my cell phone rang, my father answered it with an angry voice. The caller was Mike who started insulting my father assuming that he might be one of my boyfriends as he used to accuse me of having affairs with different guys. After hearing that it is my dad, he hanged up the phone that added anger to my father. My father opened the drawer and took out that gun and asked me where I got it and what I want to do with it. I was still shocked and silent when my mother reminded me of the threat that I once did to Prince when I promised him that I will kill him with them. After several questioning without answer, they concluded by commanding me into my room at the basement. I started to protest and my mother grabbed me with my hair and I immediately stood up and follow her. My mother said she doesn’t want me to have any wound or scars on my body, but she will leave them in my heart and mind. She told me that she is not a killer, so she won’t kill me either as I promised Prince. Prince was left in Europe as schools were not closed yet. When I entered the room, my mother switched on the light. All my stuff was taken out except a steel bar that was mounted on the wall that increased more fear in me. When I was inside my mother closed the door and gave me a powerful slap to put me in order, but just listen without murmuring a word. Her face was scary to the last extent with full of anger. When quick imaginations to escape came to my mind I was already late because my father opened the door holding a bag and closed the door and locked. I was more shivering but ready for everything that was going to happen. He took out a chain and attached it to that steel bar. Then he took out some wrist cuffs and commanded me to put my both arms at my back to that they will be fastened behind my back. When I tried to beg and explain another hot slap fall on my face. I tried to run around the room screaming for help. Unfortunately I toppled and my mom grabbed me and gave me another slap to keep me quite. I surrendered and complied as I was told. They locked my hand with wrist cuffs and my dad took out a harness straps, seemed like it was designed to harness me (as it fits on my body) and worn around my body and attached that chain from the wall with the harness. I requested if I can put a jacket on as it was cold. My dad said I must just listen because in few minutes I will be getting hotter and sweating. He was meaning it. Some new Gladiators Boot sandals were put on. That told me that it was a planned evil practice. My mom told me that my life will change forever as she wanted me to be a family donkey/slave since from early stage. She was waiting for me to get stronger to be usable. I remember that discussion that they once had about me and that silly comment that my father once told his father that I must be harnessed with horses. I was puzzled by this punishment. Enslaved by my biological mom? My mom said ''This donkey is not tamed, but tonight I will show her how to whip a donkey to be more obedient''. Did I look like a donkey? I felt sweat running through my throat as I sensed how cruel my mom was especially to me. She also said that I must know that she has told the authorities that I have elope out of the country. That means the house detention was lifted and there was no more cop who will come here and monitor the situation. I felt a terrible heartbreaking. “How can she lie like that whereas I was held captive?” That was the most miserable discipline that left me with scars internally that my mom gave me for my whole life. My mom asked again how I utilized their credit card, why did I come home late, where I got that cash, nice clothes. Finally I told them the whole truth that it was stolen by Mike and even money was his. I was stammering with fear that made her angrier. By telling them the truth I thought I would be spared or freed but it made things worse as they asked more questions about him and a gun. That was the time they recognized the tattoo on my arm that infuriated my mom more as she started to accuse me of being a gangster. My dad took out another bottle of a drink that I have never seen or drank before. I was told that it was a medicine for preventing stripes, bruises, bleeding or any wound that might occur during discipline. I was forced to drink that medicine with terrible taste. My mouth was sealed with a duck tape to avoid any noise that I could make during attack. I was only left with cooperation. My mom fastened another long thin leather strap on the ring of the harness between my breasts. After that, they left me standing there chained. I wished if I was not born to these monsters and had a strong hatred feeling towards my mom. I was thirsty and tired of standing because the chain was not giving me an allowance that I can either sit or kneeled down. I regretted that I should have not come back.

After an hour then they came in again. When they entered my mother was carrying a big jug full of water. She removed that duck tape from my mouth for me to drink water. I drank that water until I got satisfied and the remaining was spilled over my body where I felt a terrible coldness. That was my chance for begging and apologizing. My dad gave me a hard slap that gave me a silence. While my mom closing my mouth with that duck tape. My dad took out a new flogging whip that shows that it has never been used. More fear comes in me. I heard my father saying he will start. The most miserable time came in my life. My mom who was supposed to protect and rescue me was holding that leather strap and pulled me into an open space. My dad hit my legs with the whip stock to put me in a position. I felt a huge heat flows over my body. He whipped me on my back, my hips, buttocks and on my back again then I bend. He gave me a hard whip on my neck. I felt like there are some razors that was cutting all over my body. I was screaming but I was silent as my voice was obstructed by that tape. * Paused and sobbing*. I felt something flows between my breasts. I thought it was blood hence it was sweat and I felt heat like it was summer. I wished if I could change and become a small creature that can disappear. My face was wet with tears. My dad whipped until he got tired. I was snorting like a horse pulling an overloaded wagon. I was no longer crying, but was just breathing heavily. My dad said only few activities were left to make me a real obeying donkey. My body was wet with sweat. I concluded that they wanted to kill me brutally than they way I attempted suicides.

Daddy gave a whip to my mom and he holds that leather strap. I tasted the most pain that even plowing donkeys have never experience. My mom enjoyed whipping me like I am not her daughter and my tears were dried on my face. My dress was torn all over. My body was aching without any bleeding or stripes. When my mom whipped, she shouted ''Pull out that chain dunk!'' From that day my name changed into Dunk and no longer called Max or Jenny. *Crying and silence*I tried to pull that chain that was mounted to the wall while I was snorting but couldn’t. I tasted how hell might be and wet myself. After an hour of whippings, my mom unfastened the chains and extend it for me to reach on the mat floor for sleeping but still handcuffed in front. The duck tape was removed from my mouth and I started to beg for mercy and forgiveness. I promised that I won’t do it again. I was given some more water to drink with no food. As I was really emotionally begging, my biological mother showed no mercy for me by giving me another unexpected slap that kept my mouth shut. After that, they switched on the heater and I knew that I was totally removed from my bedroom and I was told that my bed is still in my old room as I took it there, so I will sleep on the mat floor. That night I slept painfully without supper and got convinced that I am a family slave. * Paused and sobbing*. It was the first day that I was attacked by both mom and dad.
One rainy late evening my mother harnessed me and put me in the boot of her station wagon and drove with me to a muddy place where my father’s car had got stuck. It was my first time to get out of the house since I was held captive. I didn’t know where we were going as she never told me anything. I tried hard to escape but even my legs were chained. I wished if we can get an accident so that the bystanders would rescue me. When we arrived I was taken out of the car and the chain was fastened to the front tow bar of my father’s car. Mom got inside, start the engine, loosened some breaks and she switched on the lights as I was in front of the car. Dad told me that I must pull the car. I was in the middle of the mud. When I was still adjusting with the environment, my father started to whip me to pull the car. I just found myself pulling out that car out of the muddy surface. After getting it out I started to take a rest and my father laughingly unfastened that chain from the car saying that I can do it. Though I was not getting what he was saying. I was put inside the car while still chained to prevent me from escaping. When we reach home I was locked in that room at the basement for six months without seeing a sun. My father always gave me treatment to heal all those wounds again and again after abuse.

One cold morning after been harnessed, with another dress on and some gladiator boot sandals, I was directed out of the house after being locked in for six months. I saw a new wooden lightweight plough (Those designed to be used on single donkeys) leaned on the wall of the garage. I was instructed to stop in front of it as I was going to plow. My hands were fastened with some wrist cuff that was attached to some handlers to pull a plough. The chained that was attached on the harness on my back was also attached to the plough for me to use my body to pull. My mom was holding a plough while my dad was holding a whip and leather strap that was attached between my breasts. Dad was pulling me into the field. He told me that I have qualified to do what suits me*sobbing*. I started to walk directed into a small field in the yard. I didn’t believe that that barbaric practice was done on me. When I got into a field, the weight of the plough changed. I knew that the plough has been pressed on the ground. My dad unfastened that leather strap from my chest and holds a flogging whip. He commanded me to pull. It was heavy that I felt like my back was broken. And when I struggled, he would whip me hard on the back, my breasts and neck. * Paused and crying* I did a job that I never expected that I can do as a human being. I saw myself working like an animal without a break. The sun was starting to get hot and I was pulling while kept in the furrow. I started to sweat heavily. I plowed that piece in less than an hour because whipping were really doing it for me to concentrate. I got a break and found myself peeing in their presence as I was more exhausted after opening a deep furrow. After plowing half of that area, I was unharnessed and taken to the shower and locked in my basement room and given some meal and water. Though I only pulled that plough for that day only, pain that I felt is still haunting me even today. I felt humiliated and used. * Paused and sobbing*. From that day, I was only kept chained in my room if they were not there as they knew I will escape. I was only taken out of the room if they need to overwork me. They stopped using me like an animal and start to use me as their maid. I was told that they are waiting for a chance to slick me out of the country and sell me as a sex slave.

After several months being held captive in my own room, left alone locked in the basement, one day fire started in the storeroom next to my room where some chemicals were kept, with no one to rescue me. A passerby just saw a smoke coming from some window and called a fire brigade. Fire brigade broke the gate and burglar doors and open. They found me before flames reaches me and called the cops. Police came and took me to the hospital. My parents were on their way home when they were welcomed by this event. They were arrested at the spot and sent to prison on charges of felony child abuse and false imprisonment. I spent almost one year in the hospital with the supervision of the psychologist as the judge needed me to gain conscious for testimony. At court, my mom revealed that the man, whom I thought was my father, was a stepfather. She told the court that she abused me because every time when she sees me I reminded her of her tragedy of rape. She testified that she wanted to love me but her inner soul always gave her some past memories of her experience. She even blamed my stepfather for all her dirty work. They were given a life sentence that they will serve until they die. I wished if they went through what they have taken me to. I suffered and survived torture with tormenting life and eventually gained my human hood back. I was finally sent to the Centre for traumatized crime victims/ Child protection Unit where I continued with my school and start life again. Recently I found God and an amazingly friends that have led me to understand that I am worth something contrary to what my parents would have me believe. I don't know if I will ever "get over it," but at least I know that I am loved and priceless in the eyes of God. I haven't been able to forgive her, maybe someday but not today nor many tomorrows to come. I went through so much, so much more than anyone should ever have to bare and so as long as I fear her, I can never forgive her. She will continue to haunt my dreams and cast a shadow over my life. I will never forget. I don't want to hate her, but it's hard. So hard. I learned that I definitely wasn't. This isn't normal. Parents don’t normally treat their children this way, and they shouldn't. I am still thinking why they did that to me. Though I committed those offences, I didn’t deserve that treatment. These memories still comes in my dreams and I am struggling to get them out of my mind.
Maxine Jenny Jones