Not My Fault

by: Citra Pandiangan

I was alone with my world, I slumped in my bitter memories.
How could I not, I was born from the womn of a prostitute and I had to become a prostitute as well. What a way there is no option for me.


World hostile to me, though I was innocent. From small, I've
raised in an environment that I do not understand. Until my age to
15 years. New I know, what abject humiliation of people who denounced and cursed me.
When I came to the environment.


I'm not accepted in society, I was rejected even though still in my mother's womb. I have no reason to curse my mother, who became a prostitute. I can not be cursed and blasphemed? God?. Because, I do not knew him. In fact, He does not know me too. Hence, perhaps, he let me be like the mother's body to maintain me. I sell mylife.


Initially, I was confused and disgusted with what I do. In fact, before I actually follow the path of my mother. I had refused several men johns want? taste? my body.


I'm not a display of goods or goods that can be held arbitrarily and mocked at will. Until you guys, hey, the johns. Satisfied for
treat my body, at will you. However, what's in myself, I was a child of the street prostitute and will be like that. Because, no one cares and attention me.


What was I doing wrong or not. Because, they've convicted me,
so I was born and raised. Was this fair? It's not my will, this is not wrong me. I should blame you! Why not bring me out of the dark valley, before I plunged into it.
You just watch and insulting me, without knowing what happened and I do not understand or pretended not to understand? I was confused with what I say.
How, I can tell you.

(To be continued)
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