My past live part 5.
I never really understood Vicky.
She was always there—cooking for me and my siblings, making sure we were clean when we woke up, keeping the house in order, going to the market like nothing was wrong. She did everything a caring aunt should do. But then, out of nowhere, she did this to me.
And when I finally realized what had happened, I couldn't even ask her why.
I was already broken.
I couldn't tell my parents. I knew they wouldn't listen. Even if they did, they'd probably kill me instead of her. That's just how they were—like Mr. Krabs from SpongeBob SquarePants, only caring about what mattered most to them. And for Mr. Krabs, it was money. For my parents? I don't even know. But it wasn't me.
So I locked my heart away. I sealed my lips shut. I never spoke a word about it to anyone.
Who would believe me, anyway? Who would believe that my own aunt—Vicky, a woman in our family—would do something like that to a ten-year-old? Even if they did believe me, what difference would it make? What happened couldn't be undone. Justice wouldn't give me back what I lost.
That's just how reality is. Madara Uchiha was right about that.
After that day, Vicky never mentioned it. She just kept smiling, kept acting like everything was normal. She still cooked, still cleaned, still took care of me like nothing had changed.
I only saw her do it once.
But I'll never know if she did it again. I'll never know if she had been doing it even before that day. That's the worst part—not knowing.
Then, after we moved into a new apartment, Vicky had a huge fight with my mom and left.
A few months later, Mom told us Vicky was pregnant.
What the fuck?
That had to be a lie. A huge damn lie.
Vicky told Mom she was raped and that's how she got pregnant.
But that was bullshit.
I knew—deep in my mind, deep in my spirit—that the baby was mine.
But how could I prove it? How could I even say it?
So I stayed quiet. I played the fool. I acted normal, just like I'd been doing for a long time.
Mom always taught me and my siblings to pray, to serve God faithfully. She told us to come to her with anything that happened to us, that she'd always find a solution.
But this?
This wasn't something I could tell her.
And with every passing day, my anger grew.
I was becoming like Sasuke Uchiha—my hatred burning hotter, spreading wider. I hated everyone, but most of all, I hated Vicky.
Because of her, I'd never be the same again.
After she left, after Mom told us that fake story about the rape, something inside me changed.
For the first time in my life, I felt urges.
My body was waking up in ways I didn't understand. My hormones raged almost every day. I needed an outlet—somewhere to cool off, somewhere to calm down.
I started looking for a girl who could help me.
I searched and searched, but I never found anyone.
By the time I was twelve, the lust had driven me completely mad.
One day, when my parents went out for an occasion (like they always did), I went to my sisters.
I kissed them. I touched them. I romanced them.
And they didn't stop me.
It was like they were in the same twisted place I was.
I didn't even know how to put my rod inside them properly. So they just sat on it, moving back and forth like a bouncing ball.
For years, we kept doing it—over and over—until I was completely satisfied. Whenever I needed it, they were always there, ready and willing. At first, I hated it. The guilt was overwhelming, and the shame gnawed at me. But as time passed, something inside me changed. I started to enjoy it. The more we did it, the stronger my cravings became. My lust grew uncontrollably, like a fire that couldn't be put out. It was like leveling up in a game—each new stage brought a different thrill, a new kind of excitement.
We continued like this for years, hiding our secret from everyone, especially our parents. How could they ever know? How could anyone believe that the pastor's own children were involved in something so forbidden? The thought alone was terrifying. If this secret ever got out, my father would lose everything—his wealth, his reputation, his standing in the church. My mother would be humiliated, stripped of the respect she had from her family. We knew the risks, so we kept our mouths shut.
We tried to stop. We prayed, begging God to take these desires away from us. We read the Bible, searching for answers, for strength to resist. But nothing worked. The temptation was too strong. The more we fought it, the more it pulled us back in. Eventually, we gave up trying to resist.
After a few more months, my father finally enrolled us in a big, well-known school owned by the church. It was there that I met Favour.
Oh, God—she was beautiful. Everything about her was perfect. She was dark-skinned, tall (though not taller than me), and carried herself with a quiet confidence. I was in Basic 5, and she was in Basic 4. We didn't take long to realize that we were drawn to each other.
One Friday, just after school had closed, everyone had left the premises—except for us. We found ourselves alone in a hidden room, and before I knew it, we were tangled in each other's arms, lost in our own world of lust.
Favour loved me—truly loved me. But I didn't feel the same. To me, she was just a way to satisfy my hunger. Whenever the urge took over, I went straight to her, and she was always happy to oblige. I touched her breasts, kissed her soft pink lips, gripped her round, juicy backside—while she stroked and teased me until I couldn't take it anymore.
But then, I saw Ella.
She was even more breathtaking than Favour. Dark, short, with curves in all the right places—she was everything I wanted. And the best part? She was a pastor's daughter, just like me. It felt like fate.
Ella was sweet, smart, and charming—but she wasn't easy to get. Her father was strict, always watching, always protective. Still, I was determined. While I worked on winning Ella over, I kept Favour close, using her to ease my cravings until I could have the girl I really wanted.
But deep down, I knew this couldn't last forever. Secrets have a way of coming out. And when they do, everything falls apart.
To be continued…