That Unforgettable Vacation

In a dark place

It was a rainy day in God's own country( Kerala), the sound of thunder could pass a shrill through anyone’s body. But my morning alarm, as usual, was my maternal grandfather‘s complaints about how lazy I am, the rising inflation, and his poverty. Technically he is a rich man but too stingy to spend his money which is the only reason for our everyday fights.

As he increased his voice harsh words started coming out from his mouth, my young brain also started to frame sentences that would pierce through his heart. It didn’t take much time for a heated conversation to start between us. Both of us shouted at the top of our voices and no one stopped us. It seemed too normal for anyone in our house to bother, only this time things took a wrong turn. The most unexpected turn, my grandpa lost his temper and from harsh words, he took to threatening me and I being me didn’t realize what I was saying and accused him of my aunt’s (his daughter) death. A tragedy we never spoke about.

Suddenly I could feel things were going to fall apart as if the black box had been open and the trapped ghost was let out. I felt the shrill on my back and I’m sure he felt it too. Every eye in our house was on us, looking helpless and tensed and then it happened.

For the first time, he hit me.

He hit me once, twice and it never stopped. He kept hitting me, I tried to dodge away. My family tried to stop my grandpa but he didn’t let go, he held my hair, slapped me and he tried hitting me again and again, more and more.

Rage filled me up and I let my anger take over me. I felt dark inside and in the spur of the moment, I let go of the last bit of humanity in me and hit him back. I pushed him and hit him as he hit me back. I didn’t stop, I just couldn’t stop myself. My body was shaking and tears were rolling down my cheek. I couldn’t stand the place or my grandpa’s face so I ran out of the house as fast as my shaky legs could. I ran until my legs gave away and I couldn’t take another step it wasn’t morning anymore.

I was homeless now and as I barely understood the local language or knew the folks, I didn’t have anyone to help me. All I knew was that I didn’t want to go home. I knew then I couldn’t forgive myself or him. I wanted to tell someone what had happened; I wanted to ask forgiveness, a part of me wanted to do exactly what my aunt did, kill myself. But those were only my thoughts I knew deep down that I had to live with this guilt.

Days passed and now months, I’m still here where I ended up that day. Trapped between those who live on my body.

I try stopping them every day only to get sold to another man and then become someone else’s pray.

Today I’m with someone who is so drunk that he can barely sit so I’m using his laptop to write my unforgettable vacation story. There are many waiting out to eat me but I desperately want someone to know my story, I want someone to ask forgiveness to grandpa for me.

The knocking is getting worse and worse.

Now I have to go….

Writer, Engineer & Dancer. I write about emotions and personal development.

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