I do not know when I fell asleep.
One moment I was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about everything that had happened, and the next moment my eyes were heavy and my body gave up. Before that, I had been thinking about my stepmother, the way she always looked at me like I did not belong, and my stepbrother and stepsister who treated me like I was less than them. But what hurt the most was not them.
It was my father.
My own father.
The way he sat there and said nothing.
The way he told them to take me like I meant nothing.
I remember crying quietly, pressing my face into the pillow so no one would hear me, even though there was no one there. I kept asking myself the same question again and again, but there was no answer.
Why?
Why would he do that to me?
I did not even realize when sleep took over.
A knock on the door woke me up.
I opened my eyes slowly, confused at first, not knowing where I was. Then everything came back at once, and my chest tightened again.
"Come in," I said softly.
The door opened, and one of the maids stepped inside.
"It is time," she said.
Time for what?
I did not ask.
I already knew I would not get an answer.
She told me to get up and follow her, and I did. My body still felt weak, and my eyes were slightly swollen from crying, but I tried not to show it.
We walked through the hallway again, but this time the path was different. The house was still quiet, still cold, and every step I took made me feel like I was going deeper into something I could not escape.
We stopped in front of a large door.
"The master is inside," she said.
Master.
The word felt strange.
She stepped aside and opened the door for me.
"Go in."
I stepped inside slowly.
The first thing I noticed was the smell of books.
The room was large and filled with shelves from one side to the other, and in the middle of it, he was sitting.
Calm.
Unbothered.
Reading.
There was a glass in his hand, resting lightly between his fingers, and his eyes were focused on the book in front of him like nothing else in the world mattered.
Not even me.
"Lock the door," he said.
His voice was low and steady.
I hesitated for a second, then turned back and locked the door as he said.
The sound of the lock clicking made my chest feel tight again.
"Come closer."
I walked slowly toward him, each step feeling heavier than the last, until I stopped a short distance away from where he was sitting.
I did not know where to put my hands.
I did not know where to look
So I just stood there
Awkward
Uncertain
Waiting
He still did not look at me
Seconds passed
Then minutes
I could hear my own breathing, and the faint sound of him turning a page.
Nothing else
Then he spoke
"Take it off.
I froze
For a second, I thought I heard him wrong.
"What?" I asked quietly.
"I do not like repeating myself," he said calmly, his eyes still on the book. "That dress. Take it off."
My heart started beating faster.
I looked down at the orange dress I was wearing, then back at him.
He still was not looking at me.
"I… I don't understand," I said, my voice shaking slightly. "What do you mean?"
"I mean exactly what I said."
My throat tightened.
"No… I can't," I whispered, shaking my head slightly. "Please… don't ask me to do that."
There was no reaction.
No anger.
No change.
"I do not repeat myself," he said again.
Tears filled my eyes almost immediately.
"Please… I'm begging you," I said, my voice breaking. "I can't… please…"
But he did not respond.
He just turned another page.
Like I wasn't even there.
My hands trembled as I stood there, my heart pounding, my chest feeling tight with fear and shame. I looked at him one more time, hoping , just hoping , that he would stop me, that he would say something, that he would look at me.
But he didn't
Slowly…
With shaking hands…
I did what he said
Tears rolled down my face as I stood there, unable to stop crying, my body stiff and uncomfortable, my eyes fixed on the floor because I could not bring myself to look up.
The room felt colder.
Quieter , heavier
And still…
He did not look at me
He kept reading
Calm.
Unmoved.
Minutes passed.
I did not know how many.
Maybe fifteen.
Maybe more.
But it felt like forever.
Then finally, he spoke again.
"You may leave."
I blinked, not sure if I heard him correctly.
Get dressed and leave
That was all
Nothing more
I quickly reached for my dress with trembling hands, putting it back on as fast as I could, my vision blurred from tears.
I turned toward the door, my chest tight, my body heavy, and unlocked it.
As I stepped out, I could still feel the weight of everything that had just happened.
The silence
The shame
The way he never even looked at me.
And somehow…
That hurt the most.