He was my boss,
He also gave me a place to stay,
How could I be a snitch on my only source of income?
I had to be inactive.
She was very young.
He said she was not his child.
His late wife cheated on him and she was the product.
He said she was a constant reminder of how he was betrayed.
I was the gardener and she was a mini maid.
She missed her childhood because house chores kept her busy everyday.
I tried asking but I almost lost my job.
So I stopped.
At least she went to school.
From what I heard she was very quite there.
They always said there clearly was something eating her up inside.
I did not answer them.
The day she won 1st place in a beauty competition at school,
In front of all those people he looked happy, or should I say he “acted” so?
The following day she killed herself.
I found the suicide note.
I lived outside the house.
She was his sex slave.
She also wrote she was my child.
Her mother told her that.
Her mother never said who was the dad exactly.
I was too drunk to remember if anything happened on that house-warming 15 years ago.
My silence killed my child.
Even if it was someone else’s child, I could not live with the guilt.
This is my suicide note too.
No one should ever turn a blind eye on the mistreatment of our sisters, mothers and the rest of the children out there
I exist, you exist. Why are you making yourself or anyone feel nonexistent?