hand or even touched my face. Mum on the other hand thought it was cute, she had named us both Romeo and Juliet. Dad’s intensity of being an overprotective parent sort of got blurred into this tangible mess of whatever he thought was going on between
us. I became more defiant understandably when dad would sneak into my bedroom and get under the covers at night. I started to kick him and raise my voice. I protested as much as I could to say I wasn’t ‘‘happy’’ with this scenario but despite that he would overpower me anyway. Often, he would turn me over onto my stomach and shove my head into the pillows and continue to violate me anyway.
I wanted to talk to mum, to finally tell her what was happening, but she was hardly at home. When she was there, I was