HI, I'M ELIZABETH STEPHAN

My name is Elizabeth Stephan and here I was on the street of Taobi. Despite the gloomy weather, I felt a little bit of joy because I was sent on an errand. An errand out and I was grateful for the rain that started pouring.

 I was yet to get to the grocery shop and I observed that as the rain poured,  some persons used umbrellas, some used whatever was in their hands above their heads to protect them from the rain and those that were without anything placed their hands above their heads in a shy attempt from the rain. They ran  to various places they could get a protection from the rain, but I did none of those. 

In contrast, I was enjoying the company of the falling rain. Instead of running, I stayed under and felt the rain fall on my head and flow down my gown. I needed something, anything to emancipate me from the life I currently found myself. The street was soon empty and I got what I needed. Finally some privacy, some emancipation in my mind from the torture of that shelter and I could feel some peace within me and some calmness in my soul.

 I laid on the tarred road and closed my eyes but I knew that whatever I felt at that moment was temporary and that once the rain ceases, my mind would be bonded again.  I laid down there and liked the way the rain was moving around the frame of my body on the ground. So cold, just like my heart!

After about ten minutes of the relentless down-pour almost coming to an end, I got up and headed towards the grocery store. I can be termed stupid or foolish but this was my only knowledge of serenity. I gathered my gown to the side and squeezed out some water before entering into the store.

 I proceeded to get the things I needed and left a trail of water in the store, inviting a scowl from the cashier.

When I was done it seemed that the heavens were done crying because the rain had already stopped and I bolted out of the store and ran all the way to my shelter to avoid the gazes of pathetic or perverted persons because the streets were soon crowded.

On reaching the house, I was met with a slap from my aunt demanding to know why I was late and I was given no chance to explain and was even beaten further which had me wondering whether the rain excluded this building while it was falling for her not to have known. But I knew that she was an emptily vile woman who took an open and secret pleasure seeing people in pain.

 After the beating, I wanted to stand up to go attend to my wounds but due to how badly I was beaten, I was a little jittery, so I fell back to the floor. I heard the most vicious kind of laughter ever and I looked up to see the only person that was supposedly related to me by blood, laughing at how pathetic I looked. I heard the opening of the gate and I was sure her husband was back and I was not ready to face the greater monster. So, I picked myself off the floor and with slouchy and pained movements made it to the attic s, to the space that I occupied. I wanted to rest for a while on my broken bed before going to get the First Aid box from the store where it was kept but I dreaded running into Dr Matthew.

 He never really paid much of an attention to me till I turned thirteen when my breasts became a little plumper on my chest and my hips came out about four inches more on both sides.

My aunt was out of town that period with some of her friends and he was just coming back from his hospital. I went to welcome him and collected his briefcase and suit from his hand and headed to his room. I placed his suit in the laundry basket, briefcase on the table and wanted to rush out of there to read an amazing novel that I found two days ago in the library when I heard him call me back.

 I thought he needed something from me and I came back to answer him. I politely asked him what he wanted, when he suddenly asked me how old I was. 

I was ecstatic at first, I felt like for the first time in a long time, someone could remember my birthday. I didn't know he was asking, not because of my birthday but to know if I was old enough to bear his tortures. 

I immediately told him I was thirteen and the next words that came out from his mouth had me stunned. He said ''Strip for me Elizabeth''. I didn't understand and asked for an explanation when he stood up with an ugly smile plastered on his face as he made predatory steps my way.

 I faced my toes and played with my fingers as he walked to me. He grabbed my hair, inhaled it and exhaled with a huff and his eyes closed. He proceeded and placed his hands on my breast and I took a step back. 

He took a step forward and asked me to look up to him. I was too scared to look up and he shouted at me to look at him. My face immediately flew up to his out of fear and he called me a good girl. Disgusting!

His hands went back to my breasts and he rhetorically asked me when they became this bigger. He continued by saying, ''You said you didn't understand what I wanted you to do, well, let me pretend you don't understand so next time there would be no misunderstanding''. 

He walked an hundred and eighty degrees around me and stopped at the zip of my once purple gown that was mostly faded and began to unzip me. I tried to move away but he yanked me and for that moment I felt like I was being strangled because of the force he used and the friction from the neck of my gown. 

 When the zip was a little difficult to get down, he tore my dress with his bare hands and a gasp left my mouth. I began to cry and plead with him but he just kept that smile on his face and went back to sitting on the bed. I remained at that spot for some minutes with my bra and pant that had different places they where torn, stitched and re stitched, due to how long I had been using them.

 He then asked me to get out of my pant and I was shaking because I could not just do it. He pulled out his belt, held the part that had the buckle and whipped me twice. With tears streaming down my face and phlegm coming out of my nose, I got out of my pant and he pointed at my bra to get it off. I got it off also and stood there as naked as the day I was born and he sat back on his bed, just looking at me. 

 His look was  burning and salacious and I stood there till my ankle began to hurt and till his stomach rumbled and he asked me to get his food. I wanted to pick up my clothes but he asked me to put it down.

 As I walked towards the door, he said it low but I heard him clearly saying, ''Dare me Elizabeth by wearing another cloth''. I was mortified walking down the stairs and hoped that the gate keeper would not have any information to pass to Dr Matthew at that moment because I did not want any other person to see me that way.

 I hurried to the kitchen, heated up his food, brought it to his room and he asked me to take my rags which was invariably my most presentable outfit before he ruined it, out and told me that starting from that day I should get used to doing stuff like that for him.

 I ran out of the room, closed the wooden like door to my room, curled up on my bed and cried till I was weak and I slept off. For the next one week till his wife returned, he made me strip before him every night and just watched me. After watching me, he did something new every night till the night he raped me. 

Either by trying to touch me in my private areas or beating me up or making me cry as he touched himself, but something new was sure introduced each night. If I should stop crying while he touched himself, he would slam my head to his closet severally

 While he touched himself, I was never allowed to look up and anytime I decided to be extra tough and refuse to cry, he would get his cigarette, take a puff and use my skin to put the fire out. I didn't know what to make of my life at this stage and my very name irritated me because of how he called it.

There was a way to which he called my name in a slow and dirty way. It was very irritating and I always feel like bugs are crawling around my skin.

 I resented him but resented my name more. I hated the name Elizabeth.