As I crept up to my front doorstep, I quickly checked the garage to see if my parents were home. They weren’t. My heart stopped beating as fast. I opened the door and ran to my room thinking of a way to get out of being in trouble. I didn’t know what to say or do. I was just in a daze the whole time. I went to the kitchen, sat down, did all my homework, just sat there and stared at the ceiling as the fan was rotating in a clockwise direction. I was getting anxious. I heard footsteps. My heart started beating so fast like it was about to explode or come out of my chest. I ran upstairs to my room, closed the doors and listened to the sound of keys jiggling to open the front door. My parents walked inside, chatting about something. I couldn’t really hear what they were talking about, but I knew they weren’t going to call me down yet. My parents have this routine. When they come back from work, they take off theirs coats, hang the coats up, put down their bags, take a shower, and then start socializing and interacting with the rest of the family. So I waited. Finally the time was here. “Princess Adaeze Udodirim Ukanwoke” my mother screamed. She only calls me my full name when I’m in trouble. I knew it was time. I hesitated a little bit and just sat on my bed before I left my room. I felt so alone and empty as if my world was coming to an end. I just kept thinking of the worst that could happen. I wondered if I would live to see the next day or if they would send me away to boot camp. I got up from my bed and proceeded downstairs with so much fear in my heart. “Go to the basement now!” The loud angered voice of my father really had me shock. My dad only sends us to the basement when its about to get real. I ran downstairs, but before I could get to the very last step my dad caught me and started beating the living daylight out of me with just his bare hands. I didn’t really think the beating would come so quickly. I thought we would have had a talk first then the beating. But I guessed wrong. “Stop, Daddy, please. I won’t do it again.”
The beating didn’t stop. It still continued. But it only got worse because my mother joined in and with both of them together felt as if I