A Present of Broken Innocence

She lays there motionless in the grass. Stunned by the realization of what just actually happened, she lays there catatonic. She can taste the blood in her mouth from biting her lip. The grass stains are lightly imprinted on her clothing. He wanted to kill her in that single second but hesitated. She hears their voices, but the words are just static. They wanted to hurt her to prove a point. Their retaliation became a debuff of despair for her.  She was powerless. She was voiceless. Facedown on the grass, she pushes herself up with what energy she has left. She sits up in unimaginable pain. She composes herself and cloaks her trauma in denial. Her face untouched so that her wounds could remain silent in a crowd. She walks toward a memory of falsehood and lies because it's easier that way. Fantasies are not just for the perverted. For her, it was to soothe the anxiety of her reality. A reality she never wanted to be a part of and never asked for. Her first day at fifteen slowly hardened her heart, but eventually became a gift of resilience. Her pain will be like the caterpillar and her perseverance will be the beauty of the butterfly.

 CLM | August 2000