The day seems so calm, but somethings off, I feel it in my gut, I need to leave.
Silence but my thoughts speak so loud, whats happening, are these butterflies or anxiety?
It was innocent then all the sudden aggressive, i lost all control, I am defenseless, I feel the tears run down my face as I pull back.
I keep yelling loud, but no one hears me. I began to panicking, “This only happens in the movies” I think to myself.
Our bodies start to wrestle, but I am too weak, He wins and as he forces himself, all I can think is “why me?”
I give up and memories come back in flashes, one of when I was 7 and learning to ride a bike, I forgot how to stop
I lost control of the handle bars and ran into a pole, ran back home crying with my lip bruised and swollen
I felt like I should cry to my mom and show her but I didn’t, I was scared so I stayed quiet, hid the bruises, the tears and my pain.
Then another memory, and another and another and I wondered why was I thinking of my childhood as this is happening
then I clue in, no, please stop. This is me being stripped away of my innocence and I can feel it leaving me.
I snap back into reality and feel the pain, I can hear my heart speeding, and feel my blood rushing.
I keep hoping this is just a nightmare but it feels way too real. There’s a crack in my voice as I scream. “Help me”
The world seems so busy all the sudden, as if everyone was so occupied in their own lives to help me in that moment.
I feel bare, hijacked of my innocence, not only that but my rights and my happiness.
I’m home finally, I cant seem to remember how I got here though, I feel safe yet as if I was a stranger in my own home, out of place.
Bruises on my thighs and wrists, scratches on my body, tears down my face as I look into the mirror and all the sudden the memory
of me riding my bike comes back, why this again? I want it gone, but I realize now why it played such a big role in this event.
When I bruised my lip, I kept quiet, feeling as if I just needed my mothers comfort to make it better but for some reason nothing but
silence would exit my mouth, and it’s sad because as much as I wanted to speak out, this was something much bigger and I feared I was to blame.
So I did the same because it was who I was, my nature I was hurt but I did not talk about it, I hid the bruises, the pain and the tears.
In hope just like the pain of falling off the bike and bruising on my lip went away, so would this. But it didn’t, it only expanded and
occupied my thoughts throughout the day and the night. I kept losing sleep, the tears wouldn’t stop falling, and my screams were still silent.
Tossing, turning and gripping my sheets. The pain is unbearable but is that a reason to speak? I’m in constant fear but I cope.
I hold a smile in the morning when my parents see me, as well as in the afternoon when they ask me about my day.
“it was good” I responded for three years, yet I say those words they will not know ‘it was good” only ever meant it was manageable.
They will never know the was I hid my face in my locker when I heard his voice or saw him coming, or the way I was reminded of
what happened and all I could do was cry in the bathroom and fix myself up to go to class. They will never know the way it felt to
have someone creep up behind me, or shake me, fake sick only because I was scared, or grab both my wrist at once, or grip my
shoulder too hard. They will never know what it was like to flinch and tear up when a guy would touch me unexpectedly. They will never know
but it is not their fault, it is simply mine for not speaking up. Although I could hold a smile there were days I couldn’t, days that were too hard.
Days that only consist of the memory and those are days I cried for help, gave off hints, but no one would catch on and who can blame them
when they already have enough going on. So the world continues but my mind cant leave that one room. For nights, days, weeks,
months and years I will hold onto one secret, one embarrassment, and I will feel alone for years but is keeping quiet worth it all, the pills and
the drinks to escape the pain, the constant “What if I told you…never mind it’s not important” The answer is no, its not worth all that and my life.
So I speak out. I tell one person, then an other, then multiple and dozens until I tell my mother and my father, and at first it is hectic, I lacked sleep
and could not stop the tears or the constant questions and eyes watching my every move but then all is calm. As if I was floating flat out on my back
in an ocean, my face above the water yet my ears are in, and all I can hear is the water as it moves me, I see blue skies and the sun shine through the
white clouds, the sun touches me and warms up my body so gently. Everything else is isolated and nothing but my own thoughts remain.
And what an amazing feeling it is to wake up three years later feeling like you want to be alive, with a real smile, no secrets, and a purpose.
Then the memory of me riding my bike appears again but its no longer when I was quiet but months later when I mentioned it to my mother
and instead of getting in trouble for it, she looked at me and says “Laura you were hurt, I could of helped you, and now it’s too late but know
that next time you are hurt I will be here” I should of remembered that the night of the event, maybe this wouldn’t have hurt so much
but maybe it had to hurt so much in order to appreciate the life I have now. There has to be rain in order to appreciate the sun.