My brother Se * ually bothered me for years while we shared a room. When I told my parents, they had nothing to say: Today in this article we are sharing a story of a girl who is harassed by her own brother. The brothers are supposed to protect the sister, but in this story, the brother is no different from a monster. He ravished his own sister and did not even regret his mistake, or his parents. Go through this article to know the whole story of this girl. Life seems puzzled at times and these sometimes seem to be happening a lot lately. I know I’m supposed to fight her, learn and fight again, and I’m doing the same. This is just to tell you that you all have helped me in every possible way (better) and I would never have been able to get this far without you. Trust me when I say this, you’re among the best things you could get.
Parents too, at least are supposed to be one of the best things in life to have brought it to this world. But a large part of me was mostly disappointed with them and vice versa. Many things that happened in my childhood did not affect me so much then, but constantly and quickly they make me a very disturbed, disappointed and unhappy soul.
I can not find a way out of my depression because the thought of what happened to the closed doors when I was just a kid kills me a little every day.
I had thought that maybe marrying my boyfriend would help me be myself again and live a safe and comfortable (mentally) life, but even turned out to be a cold and insensitive person. So my only chance to run away from that house was also ruined. As my parents showed great discontent at marrying someone outside their caste and now I do not want to live with him. Besides, I, in principle, do not want to marry a guy my parents choose for me. I am afraid that I would also touch the places as I had been touched when everyone had kept their eyes and ears closed.
My parents, who were given the responsibility to take care of my dignity first of all (at least that’s what I thought was the parents’ responsibility), somehow they did not.
They did nothing about my brother (from the same mother and father) who wanted to sleep with me, or rather wanting to see me naked and touch, feel or finger me, or check the growth of my breasts while I was asleep. We had a room and I continued sharing the room with him until the day I turned 18 and went to a different city for college. I can not thank my stars enough for that.
When I told my mother after two days, the first thing she said was not to tell my father.
I felt deeply hurt, but I consoled myself with the fact that I was my father’s daughter and my dad would never forgive his son for doing what he did. The days passed, the contact and the feeling were transformed into blows, kicks and contempt. But frustration always remained. I changed I never went back to sleep with any man. Even my father. I began to doubt the intentions of every man. I stopped wearing shorts or skirts at home (advised by my mother) to come to terms with the fact that I was “too hot to handle,” even for my brother.
This sounds strange now, but after college, until I met my boyfriend at age 24, every other guy I had met, somehow wanted to sleep with me, casually. Some even forced me to do it. He got into my mental health even more. But then, I liked to believe that I met the wrong guy or the words of many, it was all my fault.
I do not talk to my brother. A couple of years ago, I got a job in my hometown, which I really wanted to accept, so the best option was to live with my parents. Now, they had a separate room for me. I wrote an email to my father about everything, before returning home, but neither responded nor told me about it. Not even a slap or indifferent behavior of the “man” of the family, not even pretend before me. Not even a scream, when my brother called me a whore for having a “inferior” caste boyfriend.
My mother tells me, “Why are you so stuck?” You hinder the peace of the house. You were not violated! He was a teenager (a 19 year old boy) and made a mistake. He is, after all, his brother! Move on! As ironic as this sounds, no one ever asked me “How are you” when I put everything on the table – black and white.
Life is turning into a nightmare every passing day. I want to go on and on. I do not think I can take this life any further. I’m going to finish. Not literally. The sanctity of a human life is greater than any agony or depression, for me.
I do not know where I will go, but wherever I am, I will surely avoid another self. Guilt? I do not want to blame anyone for it. Maybe I was born at the wrong time more with a lot of emotions and expectations.
Therefore, consider me dead because I will never be able to return.
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