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Darker than the Shade


(This is not for those who cannot digest stories of child abuse)

“What are you doing?” she asks her voice wary, cautious and really frightened.


“ Shhh! Hush!” he continues to run his coarse fingers over her creamy skin.
She is scared. He suddenly looks bigger, more ominous than ever. She begins to shiver, the room dark, a chill running through her five-year old body, goose bumps spreading all over.


“I want to go.” She does not like what he is doing. He looks at her, realising she is getting petrified. He slows down, playing with her, tickling, until she lets off a squeal of laughter. 

“It is a fun game.” He cups the sides of her face between his palms and looks into her earnest eyes. She does not understand and it does not seem like fun at all.

He lifts her frock and she pulls it down. There is no place to run. He has her standing on the dining table. 

“Give me a kiss,” he demands. She kisses him on his pimples-ridden cheek, quickly withdrawing. He asks her if he can now kiss her back. She stares at him, her fingers sweaty, clamping them tight.

“I don’t like this game.” She protests. “I want my doll back.” The bald plastic doll sits atop a shelf too high for her to reach. She is afraid she will fall. She looks around for her brother. She can hear him play outside. The doors are all locked.

“You kissed me,” he says, “I have to pay you back.” He lifts her frock and pulls down her underwear. She is too frightened to say anything. 


She watches him as he runs his fingers from her ankle to her knee, his one hand lifting her other ankle and placing it apart. The fingers push against the thighs, insisting she spreads her tiny legs. She is cold. She feels colder than she has ever felt. Where is Mommy? She is wondering, praying someone will stop this. She is too scared to and does not understand what is happening.



He brings his fingers to his mouth, takes a dab of spit and finds his way back between her legs. She lets out a scream quickly stifled by his lips on hers. Tears are streaming down her eyes. Mommy? Papa? I’m hurting…burning. 

He lifts her up and places her on the floor where he has laid out a towel, his fingers probing, hurting. The place between her legs hurts and she cannot do anything, she is barely able to breathe. His tongue is inside her mouth and she is choking, a rancid taste permeating her.

“Please stop. I do not want to play…” she sobs. He is too excited now to hear her. All he can feel is the bulge that is eager to be let out, eager to push in and be appeased.

He holds her down with one hand, tiny wrists turning red and then blue as the blood stops circulating the palm. She closes her eyes…maybe it is a dream. Her eyes fly open when the pressure of his fingers is released from her. She sees something pink and fleshy and is unable to comprehend why it is so big. she has seen her brother bathe. He is small. Why is everything big? Why is he playing this game? Why is he playing when she does not like the game?

He brings her hands to touch him. He groans with the feel of those tiny hands on him. It makes him harder. She is sobbing, “Please, let me go. I don’t like this game. I hurt. It is paining me. Please…”

He hugs her and tells her, the game is just begun. She will enjoy it, soon.

The next few minutes she burns, hotter than the tears that flow down her eyes, the pain is extreme and her muffled screams remain thus, his hand clamped over her mouth. He is making noises that drown hers. She is afraid of him. She has never been in so much pain or terror.

It is over.

She cowers as he stands up. Her body coils into a ball, shivering, whimpering. He pulls her up to rise. Her legs give way and she is unable to move. He lifts her up and takes her to the bathroom. He bathes her, the water cold, humming a tune, blissful. She can barely breathe or stand. She sits quietly while he dries her and changes her clothes, carries her to bed and tucks her in. 

“Now sleep.” He whispers, “This is our secret. Do not tell anyone.”

She stares at him, eyes blurring. 

“I will tell Mommy.” She retorts back. He laughs.

“Nobody will believe you.”


The doll sat there on the shelf, eyes unblinking. The doll that stayed with her over twenty years, unblinking, bald, without clothes on, until she finally gave it away. The hairless doll knew her secret. She was the only one who she spoke to; little insensible monologues of guilt and pain…

As for telling anyone, he was right. 

He was right. Nobody believed. 


Images Courtesy - Google Images 
Copyright @Sandy

14 comments so far..What are your thoughts?

  1. I don't know what to tell. This situation is really sad. He can't remember he also have children and sisters.
    Have some rules like cutting the tool, it will be a lesson to all

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  2. It was difficult to read but these things happen. I am lost for words right now.

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  3. He was a sick bastard.It's sad that things like this still happens.

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  4. The problem is that it is never really a stranger who does this. it is mostly a person who is trusted. Harsh reality of life.

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  5. @Abhisek - we can all help somehow...spread the awareness and parents need to understand and trust their children better. They need to listen to their child if they say they do not like being with some person. It surely needs understanding. You cannot blame a child when the child is being pushed to be in the company of some person they trust but who, in reality is someone harming their child.

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  6. it has been a long time since i assisted such cases... and it makes me suffer that parents do not cooperate just as much... it's not that most kids tell their parents out rightly... sometimes, it takes keen observation... behavioral changes... art and play therapies to take them out of that "dark" experience...

    the scary thing is if the child doesn't want to be pulled out and instead protects the perpetrator because it's her father or close relative...

    these kids are to be loved... and protected... again, i say let them feel that you are to be trusted... and she's in good hands...

    it's not enough that we know her story... let's do something about it... stay with her... and teach her to protect her boundaries... strengthen her to cut off the chain of abuse...

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  7. every line gave a feeling.......oh! stop it, can't read anymore. but read the whole to know more. child abuse awareness is a must for our society. its very true that the people we trust more can cause this extreme damage to our children. we parents have a greater responsibility to protect our children from such horrible creatures. thanks Sandy for sharing the nude part of the so called civilization.

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  8. This comment has been removed by the author.

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  9. These things do happen..and as you rightly said,we as parents should pay more attention to our kids..I am getting goose bumps...harsh realities of life...Sandy u have done this so well..hats off to u ,sweetheart.

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  10. Thank you @Melissa @Alpana @fantacy - I can well imagine the impact. Just to let you all know, this survivor has healed and has done well in life and managed to live a pretty normal life...the healing took 30 years. But, the good thing is, she healed. Now, wherever she can, whenever she can, she helps people who go through a similar situation. The biggest challenge is gaining trust. Once a victim, now a triumph. The human spirit can really survive. They need a reason to. Once the reason is found, they survive.

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  11. So sad, such a powerfully told story that happens all to often. Very well written.

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  12. Sorry couldn't read it all. Too upsetting and it gets me angry as hell!!!

    A

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  13. @alejandro - I totally understand.

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