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