by Michelle Goulevitch

Nightman is now gone
and it’s a relief to be free,
from him constantly putting bits of himself,
inside every opening in me.

The attempted assault when I was nine
(when I screamed out in pain);
did not break my hymen;
it somehow, remains.

I’m now 15 years old and
I’ve made some new friends.
I start to feel more normal,
for the first time in years.

It’s a warm Saturday
and I’m dressed up in white.
Words out, there’s a party,
so we head there for the night.

We all start to drink,
as teenagers do.
Southern Comfort it was,
I remember it so clearly too.

Suddenly, I’m sitting under a tree.
I’m not alone, there’s a guy there
with his arm around me.
I can barely stand up, let alone see.

I tell him I’m going to be sick;
and he takes me by the hand.
He leads me away from the party;
and puts me in the back of a van.

The rest is a horrible mess,
that I’ve tried my best to block out.
He was on top of me,
and I was too scared to shout.

I uttered the words “I don’t want to”.

He jumps me and humps me,
like I’m some cheap playground ride.
The pain is unreal.
My eyes water, I close them;
and I quietly turn my head to the side.

My earlier training has taught me,
that I’m not supposed to say NO.
I’m supposed to let him finish,
and THEN I am allowed to go.

Once he is done (he doesn’t take long),
I manage to find my way back inside.
It is very clear however
that something about me is wrong;
so I go to the bathroom to hide.

People are talking and pointing at me,
my white skirt is not white anymore.

I take the skirt off to wash out the red,
other girls are in the bathroom to pee.
I’m so damn embarrassed;
and yet again, I don’t want to be me.

I didn’t even tell my friends at the time.
Everyone just thought I had gone to a party and “lost mine”.