Life with the black demon. Sandra Pasic

him even more, so he lifted me and threw me on the bed. Then he took a chair and threw it at me. He hit mum so hard that she immediately fell down. He cursed her father, mother, brother, sister out, just because she tried to save me from him. Usually, in addition to the beatings, my father almost always punished me with work, which meant that whatever he ordered me to do I had to do it immediately. It was mostly cleaning.

      Soon after that, my father bought some hens and made a place for them behind the house. During the day, he would let them out, so one of us had to keep an eye on them, so that they wouldn’t run to the garden and destroy the crop.

      The next day, or rather the next night we went to sleep. The three of us were in the same room together, my mum put plastic film under me because I used to wet the bed almost every night. That was caused by fear I had been going through for years, as I found out much later.

      The rustling of the plastic film was so funny to my brother and sister, because they could hear my every move that way. We all laughed uncontrollably. We heard someone banging for us to calm down. It was even funnier for us and we laughed out loud, which we were not allowed to do. Father came in with a belt in his hand and hit each of us with it. Naturally, we got scared and immediately fell silent. It no longer occurred to us to make a noise. That night passed also, somehow.

      Morning came. It was as if nothing had happened in the house the night before. My father talked to us in a normal way, we had breakfast and then went for a walk in the nearby meadows. Mum went to work the next day.

      Summer vacation was approaching. After school we hurried home to play with friends who lived upstairs.

      The boy who was always playing with us became my crush, even though at the time I didn’t even know what that was. We were ten-year-old kids. Sister vomited a lot during that period. She often had stomach pain and nausea. Mum and sister had the same symptoms, they both had hernia on both sides of their bodies. My sister stayed in the hospital because they had to operate on her. They let us know when the operation was over. I wanted to visit my sister together with my parents. Mum and dad were very sad about my sister. While walking, I saw “some” emotions awoke in my father that had not been visible until then, and especially not tears. I missed my sister very much because we spent a lot of time together. She recovered and seven days later she came home. She had to rest at home until her sutures got removed. I helped her any way I could and I was happy she was with us.

      Dad disappeared the next day, he went to get drunk, and in a way, we were happy, because we were left alone with mum.

      When he was home, my father wouldn’t let us watch the TV, he would often shout and order us to turn it off. He prohibited mum from watching soap operas. We could watch the TV freely when he wasn’t there. We loved when he was not there. My sister and I were playing with Barbies we had brought from the old flat.

      Our enjoyment didn’t last for long. Father, as always, came drunk and the first thing he saw when he came in were our scattered toys. It bothered him, he took the belt out of his pants and started beating us. He didn’t even pay attention that my sister had just recently came out of surgery, he hit us. We promised that we would never leave things on the floor again and that we would always make sure that everything was clean.

      The next day, we were all sitting in the house, and the parents were talking about summer vacation which was coming soon and that the two of us were about to go to spend some time at granny’s house. They decided it would be my sister and brother. I was sad, I wanted to go. My parents said that my brother and sister would stay there for 20 days, and when they returned, I would go. When they left I remained alone in the house. I was very bored; I didn’t know where to go or what to do with myself.

      Friends from the neighbourhood also went to their relatives over the holidays. Mum worked every day. By the father’s orders, I had to clean the house every day...

      The bite of the black demon

      A

      beautiful and sunny day dawned. I had no idea that for me that day would be darker than a black night. I woke up, I was alone in the house. Nothing unusual in those days. Mom was at work, dad somewhere absent. Excited about being home alone that morning, I got up and made myself breakfast. I enjoyed my breakfast while watching the TV.

      Although I was happy, or merely believing I was, still deep inside I felt some uneasiness. I could not describe that unrest. Perhaps, I thought, it was because I didn’t finish my breakfast and father might come back and find out that I still haven’t tidied up and cleaned everything. Unfortunately, my apparent peace and tranquillity didn’t last for long.

      Father appeared at the door with a man whom I didn’t know. He was drunk, in fact, I had never seen him so drunk before. He looked at me in a strange way. I felt terrified, though I had no idea why I felt that way. Maybe I had a hunch, I don’t know. I just couldn’t get rid of the agitation I felt in my chest.

      I said to myself:

      - God, help me, don’t let him be mad at me!

      I was scared by that look. In a commanding tone, he ordered me to find something to eat in the fridge and bring some alcohol from the pantry. I dutifully carried out the order. Father leaned back on the couch and turned the music volume up. He was hugging that stranger, and they were singing and laughing. Suddenly, the guest got up and decided to return to his own home. We were left alone, my father and I. Even in the darkest thoughts, I could not imagine what would happen in the next few hours. I sat down and he told me to get up and come sit closer to him. I thought he was going to hug me like his daughter... He was drunk. I don’t know why, but I felt fear, nervousness, and nausea inside me.

      He put me in his lap. Although he almost never did, even though as his child, I longed for my father’s embrace, I didn’t feel well at the time. He started stroking me and saying I was his princess. His gaze was strange. I shuddered. Then he started touching my legs. I was confused. I didn’t know what such touches meant. He is my father. I am only ten and a half years old, I loved him. Although I was afraid of him, I loved my dad. And no matter how drunk and rude he was, I always tried to see the best in him, just like any little girl would.

      He pressed me harder to his lap. I started shaking. He spoke words he only said to my mother, I remembered them:

      - You are so good, pretty and I will never let anyone touch you except me. Even when you grow up, you will be mine.

      Even though I was a child who didn’t understand any of it yet, I understood what he meant. I froze. Few minutes later, he started kissing me all over my body. I tried to pull away without success. I was terribly frightened when I felt his tongue in my mouth. Until then, I never dreamed that my father could kiss me like this. I could smell his foul breath and the smell of stinking alcohol all over me. I was shocked. Helpless to do anything. I couldn’t even scream. I only cried. I remember my words well:

      - Dad, why are you kissing me like that? That’s not how kids should be kissed! Let me go, please! Let me go, I beg you!

      To all my pleas and begging, he just said that I shouldn’t be afraid and that everything would be over quickly. I froze. I felt trapped in his arms... I knew, looking at his face, that I could no longer say a word, because that, as always, would only cause trouble, beatings, shouting.

      I prayed for mum to come home. I prayed for anyone to appear, anything to happen just to save me from all of this. I said to myself:

      - Mum, where are you? Why don’t you save me? Why did you leave me alone? Why did you have to go to work today?

      He didn’t stop. He just kept going... He removed clothes from my body, piece by piece. I still didn’t know what that meant. He kept touching me where he wasn’t supposed to. He wasn’t supposed to do that! Yet he did. His hairy, big hands slid down my thighs, and my body. Restless fingers stroked all over my body. I was trying to get away, but I couldn’t. Out of fear, shock, uncertainty... He crossed every line with those fingers. It was clearly not enough for him. He carried my little body to the couch and lay down on me with all his weight. He captured me. He jumped on me like a scary black hound. I couldn’t understand what he wanted