I stuffed my dirty clothes, smelling of the same aftershave that filled the air downstairs, in the back of my wardrobe and hid my knickers stained with blood under the bed. I pushed all the bags to the floor and just laid there staring up at the ceiling, focusing on the white brush marks from the paint that I had never noticed before. A knock on the front door made me jump. Who was that at this time of night, I thought, looking at the clock. But it was only seven p.m. It just seemed a lot later; it had been a hell of a day, after all.
‘India, India,’ Mum called up the stairs. ‘Spence is here to see you.’
I didn’t move, just continued laying on my bed. I felt numb. I didn’t want Spence to see me in this state but it was too late, he was already at my bedroom door. Bloody Mother, I thought, letting him up the stairs.
‘Let me in’ he said banging on the door.
I quickly let him in as I did not want to arouse suspicion as Mum might have caught on that something was wrong.
‘What the fuck happened to you?’ he said as soon as he saw me.
I hushed him in and just fell to the floor again, crying. He held me whilst I soaked his shoulder with my tears. He smelt of beer I thought, must have been drinking over the waste ground near our houses; that was where all the kids went to underage drink.
I couldn’t speak at first just sat there in silence but he pulled me close to his chest and kissed me on my head totally missing my forehead but kissing my hair I felt so comforted by that and then everything came blurting out of me. I told him what had happened with Malcolm and that he was sitting in the front room downstairs having a coffee with my mum. He went to fly out of my room but I caught his arm and begged him not to say anything or do anything it would make things worse. I just wanted to forget about it. He made me promise not to go back there, which is a promise I did keep and said that he needed to be locked up, killed or have his dick chopped off. I agreed with him.
Spence was so angry when he left mine, he had finally got the courage due to a few shandies to tell me how he felt unbeknown to me. He went straight to Malcolm’s. Shaking as he wrote the word on the door. As soon as he started, he was not sure how to spell it. It was one of those words that was not spelled how it sounded. So, he did a shortened version of it instead. Standing back and admiring his handiwork he felt quite the graffiti artist. Now everyone would know what type of man lived here. He stuck his middle finger up. This was for India he would end up paying for what he had done to her one day.
I don’t know why I kept going back after the first time it started happening. I should have realised something was wrong after that first cuddle. I never saw him cuddle any of the other kids. But then he would only touch me when no one else was around. I have always wanted to please men since then and never voiced my opinion. After that night, I went to my local hairdressers and had my long hair cut off to a shoulder length. I felt like cutting my hair would somehow make what happened go away, and also thought long hair could have been what attracted Malcolm to me in the first place. I no longer looked or felt like a little girl but my hair cut resembled a mushroom I hated it.
With Edward it is different I finally feel like I have a voice and he listens. Whether he agrees with what I have to say or not is irrelevant, but he still loves me regardless. We have that sort of relationship where we can act silly all the time, put on baby voices, and have offensive nicknames for each other that we only call each other in private. He is affectionate, and he tells me he loves me all of the time, especially when I am acting a fool. The sex was amazing too, The first time we had sex, I knew when I woke up next to him holding his hand that I would be having his babies one day. I finally enjoyed it and didn’t just lay there, we would have sex at least once a day and it was the first time I had properly orgasmed I thought I had, had one before but I had never experienced nothing like this feeling it was euphoric, like I was transported to a place I had never been before that made everything all better. I would have had sex all day every day if I could, that feeling was so addictive. Two weeks prior to the proposal I remember showing him a quote with a very cute picture of a bride and groom with the words ‘marry someone you want to annoy for the rest of your life’. Shocked was an understatement when he popped the question, so much so I knocked the ring out of his hand and nearly stood on it. But I am engaged to someone who loves me despite my
