For days, I was already drowning in frustration. My parents would sit outside, glued to the TV, its volume blaring through the house, while I was in my room, crying my heart out. The sound of their laughter and the TV shows felt like a cruel mockery of my pain. I felt invisible, unheard, alone. This morning, something in me snapped when my father walked into my room. I was already riled up. In a moment of rage and desperation, I did something unthinkable, I broke my father’s TV while live-streaming on Twitter as a form of protest. I know it sounds extreme, but I just wanted to be seen, to be heard.
My father’s face twisted with anger. He stormed towards me, grabbed my face, and shook it very hard. He tied me by my hands and foot and threatened to beat me if I resisted. It was so tight, I could feel the blood stop flowing to my hands. He said he’d hire people to attack my teacher’s elderly parents in Australia. He even claimed he could buy the Australian police.
Then came my mother. I thought she would help me, but instead, she force-fed me while I was bound, unable to move. Things got worse, my father called in four or five men, along with someone carrying injections. I was terrified. They held me down on the sofa, my face pressed into the cushions, suffocating me. One of them pulled my pants down in front of everyone, exposing me, humiliating me. They injected me with sedatives supplied by Mrs. Arushikha Singh from Jeevak Clinic in Firozabad. They injected me without any medical supervision. I screamed, I begged, but no one listened. My father coldly said the drugs would knock me out for three days. When I cried out, “How will I drink? I will die!” he just shrugged and said, “That’s not my problem.” Then he walked away, leaving me unconscious, tied up, at the mercy of those men.
While I was out, my father took my school certificates, my birth certificate etc. He threatened to lock me in a room with nothing but a bed, saying it would be better if I died. I don’t know how long I was unconscious, but when I woke up, I was on my bed, bruised and sore, my body aching from the ordeal. The next morning, they forced me to work, threatening to repeat the entire nightmare if I refused.
