The house was always alive—laughter, prayers, and admiration echoing through its walls. Uncle James, the revered priest, was the family’s pride. Respected. Adored. Untouchable. But behind closed doors, he was a monster. And Mary, his prey.

She wanted to speak. To scream. To beg for help. But who would believe her? He was a man of God, flawless in their eyes. Each time she tried to confide in her mother, the moment slipped away—her siblings’ chatter drowning her words, the weight of disbelief pressing against her throat. Her pain was invisible, swallowed by the noise of a home that never truly saw her.
At night, she clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms, trying to erase his touch. She scrubbed her skin raw, but the filth remained, buried deep beneath the surface. Every whispered threat, every forced silence, corroded her soul. She bit her tongue until it bled, trapping her screams inside. The walls bore witness to her torment, but like the world around her, they remained silent.

Uncle James walked free, cloaked in righteousness, while she carried a burden too heavy for her young heart. The shame. The fear. The suffocating loneliness.She became a ghost in her own home, trapped in a body that no longer felt like hers.

She dreamed of escape. Running? There was nowhere to go. Speaking out? No one would listen. The walls of silence closed in, suffocating her. She traced the lines on her wrist, wondering if pain could silence pain. If death could be kinder than life.

One night, she made her choice.

Morning came, but Mary did not wake. Her room was eerily still. A note lay beside her motionless hand—her truth, finally unleashed. Her mother found her, cold and lifeless, fingers still clutching the paper as if it were her last hope. The horror she endured, the cries no one heard—nowimpossible to ignore.

Uncle James was arrested. But justice came too late.

Her mother, drowning in regret, crumpled to the floor, wailing. But no apology, no prayer, no act of penance could bring her daughter back.

Mary’s silence had been a scream no one listened to.

Now, it echoed louder than ever.

How many more must die in silence before we start listening?