I grew up with a strict father and a kind mother, never lacking anything. Sometimes my mother would run from their bedroom crying at night, but I never understood why. Eventually, I reached the age when everyone called me an adult. Then my father raped me, saying he had always wanted to have sex with me. My mother quickly sensed something was wrong but mistakenly believed I had seduced him, so she left. At that moment, I began to understand why she had cried all those nights.