Dad always said that I smelled bad and told me to shower with the soap he gave me: and one day I found out that it wasn’t soap at all 😲😲
Dad always insisted on the same thing: “You smell terrible, go take a cold shower. Here’s soap — only this one.” I followed his instructions without asking questions. The cold water cut my skin, and the smell of this piece was so strong that my head started spinning.
Dad always said that I smelled bad and told me to shower with the soap he gave me: and one day I found out that it wasn’t soap at all
Every day I felt worse: weakness, dry skin, sleepless nights… Mom was silent. She was always silent, which was strange — before, we shared everything with each other.
I washed myself 3 times a day, but my father always said that I still stunk.
One evening my boyfriend came over. I couldn’t resist asking:
– Tell me honestly… do I smell bad?
He laughed, thinking it was a joke, but seeing my serious face, he answered in the negative. And I finally told him what was going on at our house. A moment later he went to the bathroom and came back pale as a wall, shaking, holding a bar of soap in his hands.
– Who gave you this?! – his voice trembled.
– Dad… What?
He grabbed his head with his hands:
– This is not soap! Why did you wash yourself with this? This is… 😱😱 Continued 👇👇
Dad constantly said that I smelled bad and told me to shower with the soap he gave me: and one day I found out that it was not soap at all
– They treat and repel pests with it. It is an industrial product, not intended for people!
The world before my eyes went cloudy.
“What do you mean?” The words caught in my throat.
He carefully turned the soap in his hands, showing me the small print on the back of the package.
“Look. It’s written in black and white: ‘Pesticide treatment.’ No wonder you’re not feeling well.”
I sank down on the edge of the cold bathtub, its tiled surface pulling me down to the ground. My heart was beating so loudly that I could barely hear him.
Dad always said that I smelled bad and told me to shower with the soap he gave me: and then one day I found out that it wasn’t soap at all.
Anger, betrayal, fear — all mixed up in me into one lump. Why did my father make me use this? Why didn’t my mother say anything?
My boyfriend sat down next to me, gently putting his arm around my shoulders.
“We’ll figure this out, do you hear?” he said quietly. “You won’t use this anymore. I’ll find out everything.”
But his gaze revealed more than his words. There was worry in it… and something else. He clearly knew more than he was saying.
