A cold October night is where it began
A night with the brightest, fullest moon
That also felt moonless out of respect
For the darkness which formed itself
To peach-colored walls and chipping
Ceramic tiles.
It was me lying in your sister's stuff bedroom carpet
A girl oblivious and unknowing to pain
And cars rumbling down the street that painted the curtains with stripes of light, breaking up the darkness like water breaking up icebergs melting from global warming
It's you....coming into the room.
Secretly,quietly.
It's you kneeling down and crouching
Over my resting,very conscious body
It's your sixteen-yesr-old hand slipping past
All of the layers and all of my thirteen-year-old boundaries.
It's a "no" that never came, but resonated as a scream in my head
It's a harpoon of paralysis that struck my body
It's cold bolts of electricity that settled in my core
It's coils of poison seeping from your fingers and wrapping around my body.
It's pink satin that didn't belong to you wrapped around your palm.
It's tears and crying myself to sleep
Only to be woken up by another one of your vile touches.
It's you running from the room
Every time I stirred.
It's the glint of your glasses as you waited in the doorway.
It's you coming back again, and again, and again
To preform your disgusting act
It's locking myself in the bathroom to escape as long as I could
Hoping to stay there for the rest of the night, only returning because I knew I needed rest
And you returned because apparently you needed none
It's white numbers wavering off a bright screen.
10:00pm. 12:00am. 2:00am. 3:00am. 5:00am.
Hours were counted, yet infinity ensued.
On that cold October night, the moon bore witness to your actions.
And I remembered them.
It's three years
Of pretending to love and Trust
Of Christmases and Thanksgivings spent in the oppression of your shadow, remembering not to speak
"For the family" of course
It's a WiFi password used to look up pictures of girls with good figures and tanlines in all the right places, but it never connected to any of our phones.
It's becoming friends with your ex.
It's memories of concrete floors, and sterile air, and cold pizza on the night I admitted to her what happened at 2:30 in the morning.
And she said the same thing happened to her.
It's three months of mental preparation
For crashing and burning
For cutting ties and uncertain support
It's telling my ex-boyfriend and the surprise that filled me when he said the words "I believe you"
It's a night of whispers and tears and oaths
To tell my.parents the next day
It's a long car ride with my mom and best friend.
And she and I pretending nothing was wrong.
A milkshake that didn't quite cure my depression.
It qas the look of pain in my mother's eyes when I told her for the first time.
It was my friend's tanned arms wrapped around me.
It was two hands holding mine in the parking lot of a gas station.
It was napkins that scratched our eyes but wiped away our tears.
It was rows of corn racing past the wondow like a film reel.
And a prayer I shut my eyes to for the entire time.
It was seeing my dad, a war-tainted veteran
Cry, and shiver, and blame himself.
It was a middle finger pointed at your mother when she didn't believe me
It was what made our grandfather drive to our house and pack up his guitars that had been sitting in our closet for four years.
It was phone calls from countless family members, some assuring, some accusing.
It was justice never served.
Except for in our four-walled living room where you are condemned.
These are the deeds that followed yours.
This was what the moon witnessed.
This I what happened after that cold October night.
And with four lines crossed over one another,
glowing on an iridescent screen,
I must say....me too.
©itsbasenji
©itsbasenji
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