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18+ Language Mature Content

February 9th, 2008

by nykolasandrews


Warning: This work has been rated 18+ for language and mature content.

I'm glad you've never had to feel his unwanted, inexperienced hands of puberty run across your fragile innocence. I'm glad you've never had to feel like you were "used goods." I'm so glad that you have never had to go through years of what actually happened to you, wondering if it even happened, yearning to know if those memories were a product of your imagination or if they were just locked away by the people who raised you.



I'm glad you've never had to wonder what the hell it was called. I'm glad you've never had the want -the need- to tell someone so desperately about him poisoning your innocence but never knowing how because you were seven. How do you tell someone that he raped you when you don't even know what the word "rape" is?



I'm glad you've never had to wonder what happened in that room because, fuck, sometimes all I do is wonder. I want to know what happened because I want to understand why the hell what happened to me was passed off as nothing.



Maybe he denied everything, and they believed him. That wouldn't surprise me. They never believed me about anything, especially when I was seven. Or maybe he owned up to it, and they just didn't care or they just gave him a slap on the wrist.



You'd think they'd have called the cops or at least kept him the fuck away from me, but no. They acted like it was nothing. They don't know how it felt to be in that room, to be so exposed in a way that no seven-year-old should ever be exposed in. Anyone who goes through that is confused and scared.



Your body goes numb, except for the feeling of him going in and out of you. You try to find something else to think about because you know it isn't going to stop. The more you fight it, the worse it is for you. You look for anything else, whether it be the pattern on the carpet or the number tiles in each row and column on the ceiling or the day when your life changed forever.



The thing you end up finding become the thing you say in your sleep when you can even sleep. It's what burns into your head, and at 3 a.m., it's what your mumbling over and over again as your huddled up with your back against the corner.



You sit there and rock yourself back and forth, back and forth, repeatedly, trying to remind yourself that you are still alive. No matter how numb you still feel, you are still alive. And you can still feel him inside of you.



It's 3 a.m., and all I can feel is the slight pressure from my back hitting the corner and him inside of me. All I can hear is myself barely getting out, "February 9th, 2008."


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15 Reviews


Points: 1071
Reviews: 15

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Sun May 08, 2016 3:15 pm
MrBrainwasher wrote a review...



"You look for anything else, whether it be the pattern on the carpet or the number tiles in each row and column on the ceiling or the day when your life changed forever."
That was really deep.I
You really got me reading till the end
Now my review
"I'm glad you've never had to wonder what happened in that room because fuck, sometimes all I do is wonder."
A comma is required before *fuck*
"The thing you end up finding become the thing you say in your sleep when you can even sleep."
I think it's ''can't even sleep" ? Am I right?
"It's 3 a.m., and all I can feel is the slight pressure from my back hitting the corner and him inside of me. All I can hear is myself barely getting out"
You have been using "you" throughout.This sudden use of 'I' puts me off track!
AT THE END,THESE ARE MY THOUGHTS AND MY VIEWS,YOU DON'T NEED TO EDIT ANYTHING IF YOU DONT FEEL LIKE.
WRITE LIKE A BOSS!






Thanks for the review. I put in the comma because you were right.
With the "when you can even sleep" thing, I was saying that applies to the situation when you are actually able to sleep.
And I understand that last part too. I'm just not sure how to fix it.
Again, thanks for the review.



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Sun May 08, 2016 8:06 am
DeepCrystal wrote a review...



Oh, dear God in heaven......

I am not going to ask you to tell me if this is autobiographical or if this is from your imagination, but this is still very very gripping, very....there are few words that can be used to describe this. Raping a seven-year-old--whether a boy or a girl--child molestation, felony...this is painful stuff. I cannot really relate to this because I don't know what it is like and I don't personally know anyone who suffered like this, but I still shake my head at how terrible an experience like this is.

As far as criticism goes, I feel there should be more anger in this. You did fantastic of making me feel emotion, but all I felt was loss, hopelessness, and longing for a sense of childhood innocence that was ripped away from you so...casually. I saw shadows of anger, but I think it would be beneficial for us to see more anger. "Why did this happen to me?" "Why is NO ONE ANSWERING FOR THIS?!" Did the narrator ever weigh the pros and cons of suicide? Did she feel like no one would notice or care if she disappeared or died?

Just a few things to consider. Have a good day.

And great job.





When I was young, I admired clever people. Now that I am old, I admire kind people.
— Abraham Heschel