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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1559030-Aunt-Eva
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Tragedy · #1559030
Farah must survive.
If you think about it, people kill each other for no reason other than to kill. You can say you have a reason, but does that really give you the right to kill another human being, an equal? No, it doesn't. I don't hate my Aunt, but I don't feel that I can love her because of what she did to me. What she did to my sister. What she did to my mom. In some ways, I'm glad she didn't go to jail. In other ways, I'm upset that she is at liberty to do it again. She isn't a killer, but I group her in with them, because what she does is just that bad. My mom is in an asylum, my sister, Mallory, has gone mute, and I am here to tell our stories. What did my Aunt do that is so horrible that I can't ever love her or be close to her again? She took away our souls. She took our innocense. She raped us.
I was never close to my Aunt. She was always the one who dropped presents off on holidays but never stayed for dinner. When she lost her job and her apartment, she came to my mom, her sister, for help. My mom has never been able to say no, so I suppose that Aunt Eva made a smart move. She lived with us, making peace with us for two years before she struck. I don't know who she hit first, because I only know my own story, so here it is.
As I said before, I was never close to Aunt Eva. Even when she moved in, she mainly got drunk and passed out somewhere. I really didn't care, but I could see that it really bothered mom. Eventually, Aunt Eva sobered up enough to get a job. I thought that she just wanted more money for the booze. I brought it up with mom one night.
"Mom, why doesn't Aunt Eva just stop drinking? Then she wouldn't have to get a job. She could just stay home and do nothing." Mom's face tensed, but relaxed again. She looked at me with cold eyes.
"Your Aunt is a fine person. Do not judge her because she likes alcohol. Now that is that and I don't want to hear another word about it." She left the room, leaving me bewildered. Why was mom so protective of Aunt Eva? I didn't think they liked each other. I was so lost in my thoughts that I hadn't heard anyone enter the kitchen.
"Hello, Farah." Aunt Eva actually sounded sinister, and my heart skipped a beat. This was the first time she had ever really spoke to me alone.
"Hey. Do you need something?" I was trying to sound nonchalant, but it didn't sound convincing to me, so I doubt it sound good to her.
"You're very pretty. Nice body, too. I want to show you what I do for a living, though." And then she attacked.
When I woke up, I was really confused. Then the pain. Everything ached, and I wasn't sure where I was. Then I remember the night before. Aunt Eva attacked me. She hurt me. She raped me.
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