1.
The houses down my street mimicked one another;
all petite rectangles painted simple colors.
The houses on the opposite side of the street
deviated from those on mine;
all much larger with unique architecture.

My mother gripped my hand
leading me across the street to daycare
my opposition grew with each step.

When we got inside
I threw my shoe at the caretaker
in a four-year-old tantrum
unwilling to be left
in the care of a stranger.

A tangled mass of children sat
in various chairs
gathered around
an average sized television
in a cramped living room.

I sat alone on the couch
hugging my kitten covered security blanket
when he sat down next to me.
I didn’t recognize him
but he had a beard like my dad.

My mother always said I was a sociable child;
I didn’t protest when he picked me up and
put me on his lap,
and draped my blanket over me.
Halfway through Rugrats
he started to scratch my back,
something my dad used to do to help me fall asleep.

Gradually and then
all at once,
a queasy feeling grew inside my stomach.

His hands were under the front of my shirt.

2.
Number one rule at daycare:
“no yelling.”
though there was nothing more that I wanted to do.
scream.
scream that a stranger was groping me
scream because I felt filthy.
but, I did nothing
while his hand slid under the elastic waistband
of my pink Barbie underwear.


3.
Part of the hotel’s roof caved in
causing a river of soggy carpeting
and decaying floorboards.
Someone laid down paper towels
as a laughable make-shift bridge.
sinister shadows lurked behind every corner,
while I wandered through the swampy hallways
to my room.

A single, yellowed twin mattress
was thrown in the corner.
Lamps were shattered and strewn across the floor.
Someone had punched holes in the drywall.
With each step
spiders scurried behind the mattress.

The door shut behind me
leaving me in silence and eerie darkness.
Not knowing what else to do
I retreated to the mattress.
I don’t remember how
but I fell asleep.

I woke to him looming over me.
A crooked smirk spread across his face.
He pulled out a balled up pair of socks
from behind his back.

He lunged on top of me.
He pinned down my arms.
He gagged me with the socks.

And forced himself upon me.

I jolted awake from my nightmare,
panicking that he was hiding somewhere.

I’m tormented by this irrational anxiety

that he will find me

4.
Children Ages 2 to 9 May Exhibit:
Regression to earlier behaviors, such as bedwetting

I wet the bed
nearly every night until I was ten
no matter how many remedies we tried

Symptoms of Sexual Abuse in Older Children and Adolescents Includes:
Depression

I was diagnosed in eighth grade
It followed me like a shadow,
drained every ounce of my energy and passion
and consumed my identity


Nightmares

Nearly once a month
rape, violence, shame, guilt, anxiety, repeat


Poor School Performance

I sat in my desk and tried
but I felt a million miles away from school
drowning in static
Fear of Attack Recurring

Irrational anxiety while alone in the dark
every shadow, every minute sound is him.
leaving a window open at night induces
paranoia like hands made of thick night air smothering me


5.
One in five girls are
victims
of child sexual abuse.
I was one in five
when I was only four.

About 70% of child sex offenders
have between one and nine victims.
My offender had three.

93% of child victims
knew their attacker.
I fall under the 7%
who do not.

I am 4.7 times as likely
to be a future victim of
another sex crime.

73% of child victims
do not disclose of the abuse
for at least one year
and 45% of child victims
do not disclose of the abuse
for five years.
I told my mom that day.

90% of reported cases
do not end up with a convicted offender.
Mine did.