How My Life Was Ruined

015: Ito Yua - The Only Way To Live

The Past:

I remember my mother's face filled with tears, pain, and regret. She was being beaten by my father. I was scared of the spectacle I was witnessing. I wanted to run away from the scene as fast as possible. But my feet won't move. Neither was I able to close my eyes. It was as if God wanted me to see it with my own eyes. From the beginning till the end. And who was I, a mere mortal, to be able to resist HIS decree?

Time and often, again and again, I bore witness to that spectacle.

After my evil father was satisfied with the beating, he would leave the house. My mom would still be spread on the ground. Her clothes torn, her body swollen, blood oozing from places I couldn't see, and tears smeared her lovely features.

Only when that evil fiend's presence vanished, I could move freely. Slowly, I would walk towards my mom and with my small hands tug at her tattered clothes.

She would, with much effort, move her head to look at me with a smile on her face.

Even though she had been beaten half to death mere moments ago, even though she had been screaming as if someone had lit her body to fire, she, whenever I tugged at her clothes, would smile at me with the same love she would always shower me with.

She would gently pull me closer to her and hug me tightly as if she would never let me go again. Even though just moving so much as a finger would hurt like hell, she would hug me, pat my head lovingly and speak to me in a caring, motherly voice. "It's all right. It will be all right. Mama will protect you for sure."

I was still a child. So I had no way of knowing what she was going through.

Till I was seven, I was made to spectate the ghastly scene daily. It had been a part of our routine.

But something changed when I turned seven. Looking back at it, it was both good and bad. But, if I remember, I had been overjoyed back then. That man had finally left us for good. Now mommy won't have to be beaten by that failure of a man. She won't have to suffer again.

When mommy said that the fiend won't come again, I was so happy that I hugged her, burying my face on her chest. If not for it then, I would have noticed the expression on her face and maybe would have come to realize it sooner.

After that, my days were getting happier and my world was getting colorful. My mom and me, the two of us, lived happily but not ever after.

There were times when I would see strange men coming in and out of our house. I had also heard mommy make some strange sounds in the closed door. When the door opened, I would see a new man every time and my mom would be on the messed-up bed all naked. There were times when I saw bruises on her body. When I asked her about it, she would gently place her hand on my head and say, "It's nothing, " with the same smile on her face.

That smile made me believe that everything was fine. But, only later, I came to realize how forced and painful smiling for her was. And how I didn't realize that I was being deceived.

It was only when I entered middle school that I started to learn about what my mommy was doing. People started calling me slut's daughter. I would cry every time I was addressed by that name.

I used to think that they just wanted to tease me and hurt me that was why they bullied me using that name. But, how wrong I was. How naive of me. It was the truth.

The day I learned the truth and understood what mommy had been doing all those times, I was enraged.

I shouted at my mom and called her a bad person. I don't remember the words that I used exactly but they were all painful, I bet. I started hating my mom since then. I asked her why she stooped so low. But she would just smile at me. The same smile that soothed my heart, now, I came to hate that look on her face.

For four months after that confrontation, we grew distant. I deliberately ignored her. Even if she tried to talk to me, I would either shut the door or leave the house altogether.

After those four months, mommy was hospitalized.

I still remember the cold hospital bed.

Mommy was laid on the bed with expensive-looking equipment fitted to her mouth.

I was holding her hand. But I was not able to say anything. Not a single damn thing. I just sat there, in silence. I wasn't able to bring myself to look at her face but I felt like she was smiling. And for reasons, different than before, I didn't want to look at her smiling face.

"Yua..." She began. "You asked me before, didn't you? The reason why I did all that."

Please, stop. Not that. Not now. I don't want to know. I don't want to hear. I shut my ears and my eyes, close. I wanted to escape. I was running away. I was scared of hearing the truth.

But even then some words still reached my ear, "It.....protect...I.....hope....protect........yourself..........." And then she took her last...

The Present:

"It.....protect...I.....hope....protect........yourself..........."

"Haah, hah!"

I woke up. I was breathless. The alarm was ringing loudly beside the bed. I turned off the alarm. I got off the bed and washed my face on the sink.

It was the umpteenth time I had that same dream. There was not a single night when I didn't see this dream. It was now like a curse.

Back then, in that hospital room, I hadn't been able to understand what she wanted to say. But now I do. I completely do.

I now understood that what she did was all so she could protect herself. People nowadays won't shut up about woman empowerment and all. But even those women would go back to their homes and sleep with their men. The number of women who actually were able to stand high without men's support can be counted easily.

I have finally come to understand why she did that and what message she had wanted to convey to me. I am sorry mommy, that I didn't hear you out back then. But I do realize what you wanted me to comprehend.

For girls and women like her, like me, who are weak and scared of taking a bold step forward, who don't have the courage to venture into this world alone, this is the only way to survive.