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Dear Mamma, Papa,

This country is fucked-up, and tomorrow when you get home from that business trip you will understand why. This isn't your fault, not really. You could have been more supportive, but neither of you is the fiend molesting me. You brother is, Mamma, but you knew that already. Do you care? He's around, I'm sure, watching me, waiting to see if I'll take any action toward him. I won't, though. There are stories concerning other countries where rape is illegal, and I wish I had been born there, even if it had meant a completely different life. Then maybe this wouldn't have happened. Then maybe my body would have been my own.

Mamma. I am a strong person, you've always told me that. You, Papa, you seem to think I'm not docile enough for a woman. Mamma, you always encourage me to keep my opinions to myself. But I can't go on like this any longer.

I now have a fiendling growing inside of me. Innocent, yes, but tainted by its' father's inhumanity. I'm emotionally breaking to pieces because he, Uncle, is still part of me, as if he never left my body. I couldn't say no to him, and I damn well can't say no the baby inside me. I was raped, repeatedly, more times than I like to remember, and now I am forced to carry this child inside me. I wouldn't want to be born this way. Born from the seed of a child molester. I would rather die. Tonight, I'm going to make that happen. Someone will take care of this child in another life.

I don't know if I can speak of this any more. It's tearing me apart. I am crying and screaming on the inside, but I must retain the family honor by putting on a show. If there is any honor left. Apparently I have been branded a harlot for having (unwilling) sex before marriage. "You were getting married in less than three months, girl, couldn't you have waited!" Waited for what? Maybe I should have gone to Uncle and asked him to hold his desires until my wedding night. Or perhaps, Papa, you wanted me to marry him? That would eradicate some of your embarrassment, wouldn't it?

…no. I will never see the fiend again. Nor any of you. You're all gone now. Everyone but me controls my life, my sexuality is being torn between men I hardly even know. I refuse to deliver this innocent spawn inside me, and I won't live with the guilt and shame of being a raped whore. Goodbye, Mamma, Papa…I'll come to love you eventually.

Description
Dear Mamma, Papa,

This country is fucked-up, and tomorrow when you get home from that business trip you will understand why. This isn't your fault, not really. You could have been more supportive, but neither of you is the fiend molesting me. You brother is, Mamma, but you knew that already. Do you care? He's around, I'm sure, watching me, waiting to see if I'll take any action toward him. I won't, though. There are stories concerning other countries where rape is illegal, and I wish I had been born there, even if it had meant a completely different life. Then maybe this wouldn't have happened. Then maybe my body would have been my own.

Mamma. I am a strong person, you've always told me that. You, Papa, you seem to think I'm not docile enough for a woman. Mamma, you always encourage me to keep my opinions to myself. But I can't go on like this any longer.

I now have a fiendling growing inside of me. Innocent, yes, but tainted by its' father's inhumanity. I'm emotionally breaking to pieces because he, Uncle, is still part of me, as if he never left my body. I couldn't say no to him, and I damn well can't say no the baby inside me. I was raped, repeatedly, more times than I like to remember, and now I am forced to carry this child inside me. I wouldn't want to be born this way. Born from the seed of a child molester. I would rather die. Tonight, I'm going to make that happen. Someone will take care of this child in another life.

I don't know if I can speak of this any more. It's tearing me apart. I am crying and screaming on the inside, but I must retain the family honor by putting on a show. If there is any honor left. Apparently I have been branded a harlot for having (unwilling) sex before marriage. "You were getting married in less than three months, girl, couldn't you have waited!" Waited for what? Maybe I should have gone to Uncle and asked him to hold his desires until my wedding night. Or perhaps, Papa, you wanted me to marry him? That would eradicate some of your embarrassment, wouldn't it?

…no. I will never see the fiend again. Nor any of you. You're all gone now. Everyone but me controls my life, my sexuality is being torn between men I hardly even know. I refuse to deliver this innocent spawn inside me, and I won't live with the guilt and shame of being a raped whore. Goodbye, Mamma, Papa…I'll come to love you eventually.