[Chapter 1]

Hey guys. This is my first story and i hope you enjoy

Few notices

●this story does contain strong language

● it also contains scenes that are mature

● This whole story is fictional

Thank you so much for reading.

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Aiesha's POV:

You see there are things best kept secret. Admit it or not there is a chapter you would not dare talk about. Well mine is my whole life. It all started in Pakistan those were great time till we moved to France where nothing felt right but nothing was wrong. It felt hidden from my dad abusing my mom and my sisters. I was quite young about 6 so he couldn't lay a finger on me but nothing hurt more than your mom crying. I saw the evil at a young age.

We moved again to England where I knew it was wrong but never had the courage to speak up about my daily life at home. It was my time but why did it hurt so much. It was not the fact the amount of times he hit me everyday it was that nobody stood up. My sister grew you know so he favoured my little ones and my older sister and I was in the middle being hit everyday. The pain hit deep because I knew no one loved you more than your parents. But today I sit in the corner of my bed asking for God to lift me up into the sky's. I was a pretty average girl. Never did anything wrong so why was I being punished. It was like my soul that cared for anyone and everyone turned its switch off. I was unable to move. Unable to breathe but today I sit here in the corner of my room still wondering why was I living.

I kept going, never gave up because God had a plan. Whatever that plan was. It better come fast before I loose myself to this world once again. I was tired of siting on the bathroom floor staring at the mirror crying for help. Crying but no noise came out. It was like I had been silenced to this world. Such a beautiful girl with a shattered heart and a soul that had died.

One year. I asked for one day for peace so I could finally breathe but I got the opposite. Why? It went from abuse to sexual harassment. In south Asian culture there are no mental issues. Everyday. Whenever he got the time he touched me in every wrong way. I didn't realise. I thought it was fatherly love till he started touching me in my sleep when my mom wasn't there from my breasts to my vagina. How dumb was I. When I realised the reality struck me like a bitch. I sat in my bed crying till I had to cover my mouth. How was I meant to tell my mom. How am I meant to escape? Could I escape? So I kept in for 3 years and didn't mention it. Every time I used to move or jerk his hand away he used to hit me. I was hopeless. It was my fault. I could have moved away and told someone but no.

I didn't want revenge. Nothing. But one thing I wanted was a success that is going to be worst all the pain I endured. I wanted to work till I don't have to introduce myself. I also hated the pain so I kept distance and didn't expect anything, that way no one would have the audacity to hurt me. That success . That money. That freedom bought so much light to my heart. Why is this pieces of money worth thousands bringing me a path and joy.

Money does buy happiness because if it did not. I wouldn't have spent my years trying to make it seem worthy.

So that is what I did

I finished school then college and got a degree in criminology.

I got my brother to convince my mom and dad to let me go NYC and they somehow agreed probably to get rid of me since I am a disappointment.

I was on the flight and the depression hit me that I am running away. I was chased out my own peace by who my parents. What am I going to do. I could run away but to who. I could very but to who. I could be angry but at who? Who was I? Who was Aiesha Malik.

A nobody.

I could just expose my dad and arrest him but why couldn't I then it hit me. I live in a south Asian household and no one has respect for divorced mothers and any family in jail. He ruined my life but that doesn't mean I will ruin his. It took a lot to say this shit to myself. Do I actually forgive him or am I pretending. Why was I apologising to him. Was it my fault. Why do I shed tears but still want to forget. Why was I on a plane to my destiny of my future but still dwelling in the past.

I was a pretend game. A damaged doll ready for destruction