IV: There’s a First Time for Everything

I’d hadn’t had sex until I was 14 or so. I don’t know who it was.

I was asleep in my bedroom. I shared it with my sister. We lived in a three bedroom single-wide trailer that was tucked away in a small trailer park in a small town on the outskirts of Houston. One of my best friends, Linda, lived a few trailers down. I’ve known her since I was 9 or so. We don’t talk anymore though.

I lay on the bottom bunk with my head toward the bedroom door. The bay window across the room looked out on the main driveway of the trailer park. Something brushed my cheek, and I opened my eyes. My head pounded and I felt disoriented. It took me a few minutes to figure out where I was.

I looked lazily toward the window, the blinds bothered by the wind, the window open. I saw a hand planted next to my shoulder. I couldn’t really feel my body. I followed the arm attached to the hand upward; someone was above me. I turned my head and looked straight up. Someone looked straight down at me, holding themselves above me with their palms against my bed. My vision blurred again. I drifted off.

Pain ripped through my hips. I woke and looked up. Eyes.

I tried to merge my fist with the person’s face, but my arms were pinned down. My mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton, dry and thirsty. It was taped shut. It didn’t matter though. My body felt too heavy to move and my voice wouldn’t work. A hand lifted off of my arm and dug into my neck. My vision blacked.

I woke curled on my side, facing the window. The person was gone. I slept.

The next day came quickly. The window was still open, so I got up and shut it. Blood.

~~

I don’t know who did it. I don’t think it matters.

Girls are raped more often than people think. Many, many of my female friends have been raped — both dancers and non-dancers. Men and women force people. No, it doesn’t justify it just because it happens all the time but it’s a more common occurrence than people care to think.

It got to the point where it didn’t bother me quite so much once it happened so many times.

I don’t like to be touched.

Comments
  1. GEO says:

    I sit and i think,
    why must i think
    i sit and i look
    why must i look

    i stand and move
    why must i move
    i walk and run
    why must i run

    why do we do what we do
    why are we who we are?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s