My family, only by blood, stand around me.
Reeling still, from what I've had to do
I stop when I hear it.
His voice.
He stands behind me,
his large stature overcrowding my petite figure.
A large hand falls heavy onto my shoulder.
"Get it off! Please!"
My mind shrieks.
My skin burns from his unnatural, heatful gaze and touch.
His voice rumbles,
sounding like small earthquakes in the distance.
My ears ring and I hear pounding.
My heart racing so loudly,
everyone should hear it.
Why haven't they noticed?
Can't they see what's before their eyes?
The torture I'm put through for his entertainment?
I feel dirty and used.
Shoulders slump in defeat.
I won't be saved.
Damned for another day.
Broken by this man,
family through blood.
I lower my head.
Too full of shame and disgust.
Maybe one day, I'll break free.
Until then, I cry in silence.
_____________________
I was young, only 9.
Continued in Part 2
