| Dear papa|

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Note: Not according to storyline. In line comments please

~♥~

Dear papa,

You know, I really miss you. Your princess Vanya misses you. I don't know if this is right thing to do but, what's done is already done.

When I was small, almost five,
I was once asked this question, 'Which superman do you love the most? ' my immediate answer was, ' My papa is my superhero'.

I admired you.

I loved you.

You were king to this princess, a role model for the growing girl. You loved and adored me in and out, at times, even mumma used to be jealous of our bond. Everything was going great until I hit my puberty.

I was sobbing uncontrollably due to pain, the twelve year old me couldn't understand what was going on with my body. Why was blood coming out of me?

Is it my fault that I got my periods?

Is it my fault that this patriarchal society looks at periods as if it's some thing that should be hiddenWV?

Is it my fault that you got so uncomfortable by me just because I was on my periods?

Or is it my fault that you yelled at me for coming near you during that time of the month.

For the first time, I saw someone who was not my father. Someone, whom I did not admire. Someone, whom I did not love.

I never wanted to tell you this, but, at the heat of the moment, I had claimed you as a monster. I hated the fact that our relationship wasn't same as before, I hated that we can't be same as before.

Where was I at fault?

Why was I expected to suddenly grow up just because I got my periods? I was a mere twelve year old girl, I didn't wanted to be labeled as a woman. I didn't wanted to, but society did that to me.

And that was when I grew closer to mumma more than you, for the first time, she became my healer, and not you.

As I grew up, the functioning of this society made me sick.

If I wore a loud lipstick, I was considered a whore and if I showed too much skin, then according to them, I was asking for sex.

Where and why did this society went wrong?

Slut shaming girls for wearing clothes of their choices, calling them names for voicing out their opinions, is this what society is, Isn't it?

I had already started to distance myself from you, as I grew up, maybe I saw the toxic traits that I didn't knew in the childhood.

I hated how aggressive you were.

I hated how your every word was considered as the final decision while mumma's word were never put into suggestions.

I hated how you fixed my marriage without my permission.

I hated how vulnerable I was.

I hated how young I was to be married off, I was just twenty papa.

Did you hated me?

I hated how you emotionally blackmailed me to marry a man of your choice.

I hated how I gave in to your demand.

I hated that I married him.

I hate you for getting me married to him.

I still remember, how I had asked my newly wedded husband to give me some time to get myself comfortable.

I still remember his lusty and creepy gaze on me.

I still remember how my every pleas went unheard by him.

I still remember how he forced himself on me.

I still remember shouting and pleading him to stop.

I still remember how my soul roared and silence echoed when he hit me.

I still remember his exact words to me, 'You're just a woman. Who needs to be limit'.

I still remember how brutally he tore my soul every time he forced himself on me.

And when I told this about mumma, her words broke me to an extent, she said,

' Your husband can never rape you. It's just physical intimacy among a married couple and you need to compromise a bit for a successful marriage.'

I hate how marital rape is still not criminalized.

I hate how woman are expected to compromise every time in a marriage, even if it means bearing tortures everyday.

I hate how men claim women as their property.

Why was consent never taught to everyone?

Shouldn't it be the most necessary lesson of a human life?

It might be not all men but why these men?

Why do these men who commit crimes go free?

Why was I expected to keep silent about my suffering?

Why couldn't anyone help me when I wanted to come out of that marriage?

Was it my fault that a divorcee is looked upon as if it's some sin?

Was it my fault that I couldn't divorce my husband due to my own father because he was scared of what will people think.

Was it my fault that he torchered me everyday, mentally and physically?

To end my sufferings, I took the most dreadful decision ever.

You know, the strong Vanya died the day his Papa refused to become her strength anymore.

I was weak.

I was devastated.

I was numb.

My tears had dried up and refused to fall, I did what gave me happiness.

I did what gave me peace.

I ended Vanya.

Vanya died.

She died.

.

But, somewhere, I still want justice, maybe my soul would be at peace then.

Your daughter, Vanya

~♥~

Yeah.... That's it. I really wanted to write something like this from a long time but I was unsure of how to start it.

I wanted to compile few issues that this society has, especially for girls and when I saw men trending at twitter, against the law of marital rape, I literally lost it.

Thankfully, I don't relate to any of these things but if you do, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you have to face these.

I don't want to keep target but do comment.

Till my next update take care and stay safe. Byeeeeeeeee.



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