I have always lived alone, at least in a mental since. I grew up in a house where my father left the country to provide for us and a mother dying from cancer. By the time I was six I had no parents around, my sisters had their own lives to sort. I grew up an introvert in a country where an alpha extrovert is the minimum. So I never really had anyone to whom I could talk as I grew up. The story (or stories) I share here are once I have never shared or shared with very few people.
Just Two Bad Weeks
Picking up few years after that last incident. I was eleven years old, my father had been in Dubai for few years now. He had traveled to provide for us during my mother's last year alive fighting cancer when I was six years old.
Less than two weeks before my sister Farah's birthday during the U.S invasion, there was a period where my father wasn't able to provide us with money, we were always broke. I remember stealing sandwiches at school so I could have something to eat. There were days where it was just me and my little sister at home as my older sisters were busy with their lives, my oldest sister Rasha - may she rest in peace - was in Egypt with her daughter Laila, named after my dead mother, Ronza was working as a translator at the green zone and she had to stay there overnights, the rest were either at my aunts' houses or I don't know exactly.
I remember one day, I was putting my younger sister Zahraa to bed and she told me that she was hungry and I just stood there not knowing what to do. My little sister needed me and I was useless. So the next days I took her to school where we both used to go, I watched her go in and pretended to have forgotten my backpack at home even though I left it there intentionally. I started going to different restaurants and shops seeing if they would have a job for me, I passed by many before I saw this guy sorting out a new restaurant before they would open, I walked up to him and told him that I was desperate for a job. He seemed really nice at first and said that they will open tomorrow and told me that I could start tomorrow, he then reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet and gave five thousand Iraqi dinars, around four American dollars.
I remember I was so excited, I took it and I started skipping while running toward a bakery to buy bread for a thousand dinars, then to a supermarket where I bought some groceries like cheese and cream for like two thousand more and figured I would have enough for few days. After that I went home, made two sandwiches and then ran toward school to walk Zahraa home and give her those two sandwiches. I remember feeling such a joy seeing her happy face while devoured both sandwiches before we are even halfway home. It felt good making my sister happy, it felt good not being useless.
I started a daily routine of walking my sister to school, running back to the restaurant and working there. Everything was normal for the first few days, the man who got me the job, Anmar, would walk in on me, touch my thighs and moving his hands around, but I didn't think much of it. But I remember on the fourth day he asked me to help him with his car. I don't exactly recall how everything was happening, but I remember him at some point just grabbing my head on both sides and kissing me forcefully. I could feel the cigarette taste in my mouth, I almost threw up. But then he reached into his pocket and gave me full twenty five thousand dinars and told me to go home and take shower next time before I come.
That was it, despite how much I hope it wasn't, that was my first ever kiss. It will forever be that, I wish it wasn't. I wish my first kiss was that I had with Zainab when I was fifteen, hell I would have even preferred it had it been the one time I got drunk in Dubai at sixteen and had a kiss with a total stranger and threw up on her shoes. But no, it will just be that.
That day I returned home at night and found that all my sisters have returned. Few minutes later I heard Farah talking about how it was her birthday in a week. I also learned after I asked that the reason they keep leaving in the first place is because we have nothing. I went to a restaurant near by and got all five of us burgers and Pepsi and all different stuff that I spent all the money I made that day, I even bought flavor and coal so we could smoke Sheesha.
I stopped working there as my father had finally found a way to wire us money and he would start doing that soon. However, he would be able to write it after Farah's birthday and I remembered how excited she was about celebrating it. I remember passing by a gift shop on the way home where I saw this pink watch, I walked in and saw that it would cost eight and and a half thousand dinars along with the happy birthday card, a cool red bag, and a pink pen with a pink feather. So I decided to go work for few more days.
So, throughout my last few days there wasn't a lot happening. The actual owner of the restaurant kept showing up which prevented Anmar from getting close to me. I was doing most of my job in the backroom where I would pour big bottles into small ones. I remember Anmar trying to have his way with me couple of time, and he was unsuccessful in eight times out of nine.
The time Anmar managed to have his way was when I was asked to empty more ketchup late at night in preparation for the next, if you are wondering why such an idea would happen when usually I would do that throughout the day normally, then at this point we both know the reason for that.
I was emptying the bottles as usual when he walked in, he had made sure all the employees were gone at the time. He walked in on me, I could feel him walking behind me nervous. All I was thinking is that it takes me around three minutes to empty a bottle and I had four bottles and that it should take me around twelve minutes, fifteen at best. All I needed was for those minutes to pass peacefully. But then I could feel his penis on the back of my head. Anmar kept saying things like "How are you?" and different stuff of the sort, minutes passed and I could hear through his sighs that he was getting impatient.
After twelve minutes that felt like a week he said with a strict voice "Turn around", and when I wouldn't he started screaming it. Eventually, I turned out and found him not wearing anything, and before I could do anything he grabbed my head and started moving it around his penis in hopes that he would stick his penis in my mouth which he managed do by closing my nose. And when I started resisting he pinned me to the floor with his knee on my chest. I was laying on my back helpless barely breathing and he was slapping my face. In the end I started choking on his ejaculation and even puked on the floor.
I was heading toward the door running before he screamed at me to wait, he told me to clean this shit off the floor -referring to his ejaculation as well as some ketchup stains- then get my money and go. At the time I was just kind of happy that I would be getting the money as it was the day of Farah's birthday. I cleaned everything, found the money on the cashier table, and he had disappeared. I took the money and ran toward the gift shop to get her present. I kept imagining a celebration at home for the birthday.
I returned home to find that Farah's birthday wasn't celebrate and she was upset. I gave her the present and I remember till this day how glowing she was when she got it. I thought to myself it was all worth it, why ruin her mood by telling her what happened? She was happy at that moment and what happened already happened. It was worth, it was worth it.
After that event, few days passed. I started going back to school normally. But every now and then I would spot him in his car following me around. I made a case whenever I would spot him to go to a friend house instead of home as I didn't want him to know where I live. God knows what he would do to my sisters...
It was one morning on a Friday when I went out to play football with friends and I saw him watching me. Hours passed until we finished, and he was still there. He kept following me so I kept going to other places but home. I went to my friend Murtada's house and stayed there for hours, and when I left it was like five P.M and he was still there. I couldn't stay at Murtada's house as his family left.
I decided to go to my neighbor's house as he is usually standing by the door around this time. But Anmar grabbed me and put me in the car before I could do that.
If you were to see me in that car, sitting shotgun you would think I was there by will. There are times until today that I think I wasn't there by force. I am more certain that I didn't move or resist out of fear, but like 70% certain. I don't know the point of sharing this part, but it is a part about which I keep thinking. The entire thing actually, I keep thinking about how much I participated, how much was by force and how much willingly.
Anyway, I remember him driving around for a long time.His hands wouldn't move off the back of my head as he was pushing my head down, almost like he was to arch my spine at 90 degrees. He kept pushing me every time I moved up until I finally understood that I shouldn't move. There would be an occasional punch or a slap on the back of my head, sometimes it was with this heavy Nokia 3310 cellphone.
It has gotten dark when I was dragged into the restaurant attic and I kept getting beat up. He just wouldn't stop no matter how much I begged, I kept getting called names throughout and different threats.
Until I started writing this part I haven't realized how much of it was fuzzy. I remember getting dragged from my hair into the restaurant attic, it was a small empty space where you could barely stand. I was resistant the same way a cat is, not fighting back, just waiting for an opening to escape, at least that is how it started out to be. I didn't fully understand how dangerous it was until later on. Anmar had screamed at me to take off my pants which I didn't, he screamed louder and louder, I his constant unfulfilled threats as kindness of not being willing to go through with hurting me. I learned that it was a false assumption as I found my head blasted through glass in the small half-window in the attic.
So there I was, squirming around with my pants getting torn and getting the shit kicked out of me. With each punch, kick, and slap I got I started realizing how I should stop resisting. It was at that moment when I felt, pain so hard I could swear my soul left my body for few seconds. It was few seconds when we both heard someone screaming his name. Someone had seen his car and came in looking for him, the most curious person who wouldn't wait and would rather walk up to the attic, the type of person I would hate 99.999% of the time, that moment was the one exception. The guy kept walking up screaming Anmar's name as he was getting up in order to stop the guy from finding me.
As Anmar was standing by the attic, he had threatened to kill me if I make a sound, I realized I could escape through the window. There was a table right under the window that would break my fall and hopefully I would have enough head start to make my escape. I kept dragging my self through the window as the shattered glass was only prevented from cutting me by my shirt, it could still hurt. I thought I would have been calmer but fear caught up to me as I was falling down the table and I screamed.
I got up panicking out of fear from Anmar who was staring at me with equal fear from the curious man. The man said something along the lines of "I knew it was you" as he walked to help me up. He told me "Get up son, your family is looking for you", I didn't understand a thing but I was glad to have an ally. I was still scared from Anmar who was stopped as we both saw the man carrying a gun with him. "Don't be scared, son. Just go" He told me as I hesitantly got up and ran away.
I ran until I got exhausted and even then the least I did is run fast. I got closer to the door as I got more and more tired. Eventually, I fainted just outside the house door. I was helped up by my sister and got inside the house, I noticed we have more people over. My cousins were there, aunts, uncles from both sides of the family. In a moment of naive expectations, I thought they had known what happened.
What had happened however, is that my second oldest sister who kept the money my father sends from the Emirates had lost some money and they had all agreed that I had stolen it and ran away to avoid consequences. I was thinking to myself, what? I am literally sitting there with pants torn so bad that they are basically a skirt, I have blood all over me, and all I am seen as is an actor. I spent the next hour or two sitting in shock as I listen to cautionary tales told by people around me.
That night I ended up learning that my cousin's friend is strong and big but still got kidnapped once, I learned about how dangerous my life COULD be. I learned all these stories about situation nothing like mine, to learn a lesson for a mistake I never committed, all with the occasional mocking joke aimed at me. Eventually, I just wanted to sleep. I gave up on waiting for them to stop and letting me talk.
The next day, I woke up with an epiphany, I still had some money. I would give it to my sister and actually tell her what is going on. I picked up the money and went to her and handed it to her as she got angrier and angrier, I honestly still don't understand why. I kept hearing about I made the family look horrible and that I was selfish as I was getting hit all over my body with a wooden mob stick that started breaking more with each contact. I kept apologizing, crying, nothing. I kept running to the back, until I found myself cornered in the toilet with her standing over my head as I am making myself as small possible in the corner. I kept thinking if I could escape I would be found by Anmar and that seemed worst, although barely.
I was relentlessly beaten until she got tired and eventually gave up and walked away. I locked the door and stayed in the bathroom until the sun went down. Throughout that time period I kept hearing her tell the story to everyone coming by, everyone who shouldn't "talk to this psycho", the story about how I stole the money and then lied and brought it back because I was forced.
After that, I got up, cleaned the floor from my bleeding anus and went to my room. And the next day I went to school, everything was normal again few days later. I liked that, I happily took that option then. As far as the teachers concerned I fell on my face and I just so happened to love wearing long sleeves during the hot spring in Iraq. I just chalked it off to just being two bad weeks.