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My world was a stark contrast to hers. All black and colorless.All I ever knew was pain. But this child? She’s happy. I wonder who I’d be if I were once happy too.
“Get up!” Sister Mary whips my bare back as I weep on the floor, unable to stand.
The burns on my feet hurt so much.
She told me she was teaching me a lesson for not wanting to study the word of the Lord. Because I was a sinner. And sinners get punished.
All the time.
“Get up, I said!” She slashes my back again, and I know she’s making me bleed.
How do I make her stop? I can’t even catch my breath.
“You’re seven, and this is how you behave? Like a whiny, willful child? Do you realize how lucky you are to still be here?”
Another whip, harder this time.
“That we allowed you to stay after every family who has tried to help you sent you right back?”
Another slash.
“Aren’t you embarrassed at how unwanted you are?”
And another.
“I’ve tried so hard to make someone love you, want you, but it’s been for nothing! Because you’ll never learn!”
She hurts me over and over while I cover my face with my hands, sobbing for someone to help me. To save me. But no one ever comes.
“Even your own mother didn’t want you.” She laughs. “Handed you to me while you were straight out of her womb.”
Her laughter is mean, but it doesn’t hurt like it hurts knowing my mommy hates me.
“She must’ve known what a waste of a breath you’d turn into, so she left you here. But even I couldn’t help you.”
She hits my arm with the whip, and my skin rips, blood dripping down my fingers. My stomach hurts, and I vomit on the ground.
“Pathetic! You can’t even take a whipping like a man!”
My weeps only grow, and right here and now, I wish to die.
“Get up!”
She doesn’t stop hurting me. I lose count of how many times she does.
I try to rise, but as I do, as the soles of my feet throb, she forces the whip across my chest, and I fall right back down to my knees.
Will she kill me? I want to die.
“Wh-what’s my—my mother’s name?” I stammer, needing to know.
If I survive, I want to find her. I want to ask why she left me here. What did I do that she didn’t love me? I knew I was given up. Mary told me all the time how my mom abandoned me when I was just born. That I was a burden, and I was not God’s child.
But there’s no God here. This is the house of the devil. And even he’d be kinder than this.
They hate kids here. They hurt us, and no one does a thing. Because nuns are supposed to be nice. They don’t hurt kids. They help them.
What a lie.
