My Uncle, the monster

My heart sank, my breath soured, I felt bile surge up my throat and I had to fight to keep my lunch in my belly. As the details emerged I lost my battle and rushed to stick my head inside a toilet. Part of me felt I deserved never to leave the germy depths. My life, merely by association, didn’t deserve to continue. I was ashamed.

I would rather be wrong and apologise for not giving him the benefit of the doubt than being proved right and hearing that he raped another child. The person delivering the news was bemused at how “normal” he had been earlier.  No sign that the previous night he had been hidden behind a door, almost caught by the mother of the ten-year-old girl he had returned to rape.

On Saturday, while the little girl was alone with her small brothers no adults about he had preyed on her. Luring her from her room he had masturbated on her thighs in the familiar comfort of her lounge. Will she ever watch TV in that room again without the paralysing fear he instilled in her that day? When he returned on Sunday he had promised he would “put it in slowly”. I can never be grateful enough for the little girl’s bravery that led her to tell her mother instead of believing the lies he said about killing her if she told.

I am sad she wiped the evidence, I am furious her mother didn’t take her to the hospital immediately.  All evidence of his assault has been erased. I can only hope that a previous conviction will be enough to convince the police to take the matter seriously. I will fight for this little girl, because the next child my uncle rapes, will be mine.

*please forgive typos, I am still in shock