Amy's story Video (MV)

We don't speak of what took place
Instead mother takes me to my first scan
A nurse points to a small screen
A moonlit body alive inside my belly shows me that my childhood will end
We don't speak of what took place
My father's funeral had flashed by
Mother plastered her grief with a grin
Met a new man with whom she would drink from day one I knew I didn't like him
Still didn't stop her from wearing his ring
Before we knew it he had moved in
And I soon got used to his eyeballs lingering his mouth frothing at my tightening school uniform
His hands grabbing
Like private parts were reduced price items at a corner store
We don't speak of what took place
My mother became a noiseless siren
I learned the hard way to stop ringing
Her warmth an active volcano
My feet would grow to tiptoe around
In my bedroom I would shield from his shadow
A safe space where I'd dream so big and wide I didn't recognise my surroundings
Secure from what lurked outside
Until he forced his way in
Trapped me beneath a body
Reeking of rum I tried to run and fight
Cried for a ghost to rescue me
From the imposter I wished dead instead of my father
My screams drained into dried blood
A voice said you had it coming
And I felt my soul descending
My near breathless body no longer safe but frozen under his weight
My mother's figure in a dim corner
Her red eyes twinkling with what I wished was a tear
We don't speak of what took place
At 14 I am cradling new life and a fresh wound
While laughter from a nearby play park flows through a maternity ward window
At the sound of a hopscotch game I used to love my stitches ache
After all that silence a child cries in its place
You can't change Amy's story but you could change the stories of thousands like her
Visit amnesty.org.za to take action