Precious: et liv i misbrug og fortvivlelse

I’m sitting on a chair, a dusty, old chair. In front of me; I have Precious with her mother and her daughter. It’s so silent, but the air is heavy…

I look around everything is so messy, there’s a strong smell of cigarette smoke, it almost makes me feel sick. The carpet on the floor is dirty and in some places the carpet is burnt because the mother keeps on dropping her cigarettes on it.

I feel suffocated in this room, maybe it’s because the furniture is all over the place and it’s very messy or maybe it’s because of the tension that surrounds us.

I look at Precious, she’s zoned out, she always does it when she can’t take the pressure anymore. Precious can’t fight back whenever her mother abuses her. She has been taught to always keep her feelings to herself. Whenever she tried to express her feelings, her mother found it disrespectful and mean. Now Precious keeps it all in and when it gets too much she zones out. I think she’s daydreaming, maybe she’s thinking about a better life. I have never asked her about it, and if I had, I know she wouldn’t bother answering me, as I said she has a hard time expressing her feelings.