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I was eager for my mother to finish tucking me in bed and leave my room; this was because of what happens outside my window,in The House across our street, every weekends. Was I the only one seeing this or has every one just decided to keep quiet about it but isn’t that unkind? I had these questions running through my head as I watched my mum switched off the light and shut my door. My heart thundered against my chest in trepidation for what I was going to face as I tiptoed to my window, pulled the curtain aside and there it was — Vivian, the twelve years old girl servant in Mr and Mrs Jim’s house was being carried on the shoulder by Jackson, their twenty-five years old son who comes home every weekend. Where he drags her to, I couldn’t really tell but it was always through their back door and something was different tonight The first time I saw this happened, she was kicking and fighting him as he carried her out, I couldn’t tell what he wanted to do to her which made my curiosity got the best of me. I waited for almost thirty minutes when I saw her limping in from the same door and Jack’s body glistening with what seemed like sweat from afar. I went to bed that night arguing with my 15years old brain that she wasn’t being raped and maybe he probably needed her to assist him in their garage or somewhere around their house but every part of my being knew the truth.
Unlike the first time, now she wasn’t fighting…why? Had she given up ?
   Few days later, I was about to discuss Vivian with my mum when she abruptly shut me up with “you’re different from her, her world is different from yours and you have an entirely different life” and that sends a million of messages to me that my parents knew about Vivian. I was about to speak up again when dad came up behind me saying “you’ll be sleeping in the guest room till you return to school”
“No, dad” I looked at my parents in shock . “And mum, Vivian is in my world, she exists in all of our worlds and we can’t watch her suffer Just because she’s a little helping hand to some rich couple?”
   I couldn’t stop thinking about how everyone closed their eyes to the imperfections around them just because their bosom seemed so peaceful and comfortable. For my parents to know the truth about Vivian then every other close neighbors knows about it but their silence is incomprehensible.


There’s alot outside our comfort zone we ought to correct, change and even embrace.

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