For many the first day of summer is a sign of fun, sun and long evenings enjoying life with family and friends. When I was prompted to write something about summer today those weren’t the first things that came to mind and that pissed me off. The first thing that came to my mind was the endless summers spent at home with my rapist. I had to spend the whole day at home, I no longer had the respite of school to keep me out of his clutches.
Every day I would wake up and tip toe around to get ready to leave for the day, somewhere, anywhere but home. I pleaded, please don’t let a floorboard squeak, don’t flush the toilet, just be very quiet while grabbing a snack. Not a sound or I might wake the monster downstairs. I had to pass the basement stairs to get out the back door and hurry to the shed for my bike. I prayed he wouldn’t be coming up those stairs every single day. I went to every neighborhood kids house hoping to find someone outside playing so I wouldn’t have to go back home.
I’m so mad that I had to think of that first, why can’t I enjoy anything in life. Everything is tainted and I can’t escape the thoughts that run through my head. I want to be but it’s impossible. I’m losing myself every day, I can’t say or do anything without thinking of the past and I want so badly to forget. I want to move on and get over it but that is a ridiculous notion. It’s not going to happen. I will never have any justice and I will always be fighting this on my own.