Tag Archives: Sexual Abuse of Childhood

Her Father’s Chair

She got a call, her parents’ home is now, foreclosed, and, the individual who’d called her told her she could come, and take whatever she’d wanted out…

She’d, entered into, that darkened living room, the lights won’t turn on (electricity’s disconnected???), and, she’d, fumbled around in the darkness, and, stumbled across something that tripped her feet, and it took her back, into, her childhood (after all, that was the home she grew up in!).  She saw that chair, in all of its, older glorious days, how the velvet was still, unfuzzed up, how it’d looked, brand new, where her father, used to sit, with her, on his laps, after supper, patted down her hair, cuddled with her, told her countless stories!

Her father’s chair, that was, all the memories, she had left, of him, she couldn’t, recall, anything about her, other than, in the “presence” of that chair, like he’d, never existed, outside, the realms, of that chair for some unknown reasons.  Her father’s chair, it’d carried, that deep, dark secret, inside, the cushions, it’s the place, where her father, loved, playing that little game when her mama’s off to her book club, cooking class, or whatever the HECK it was her mama was into, during her childhood years.

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the monsters in her father’s, chair…found online

As those memories all came, flooding back up, she’d, felt that chill down her spine, she’d, wanted to, escape, out of the room, but the room suddenly, closed down, and she became, trapped in.

Her father’s chair, it was, not a, good place at all, she couldn’t, remember any of the better moments she’d spent, with him, in that chair of his, and, she’d remembered how, he’d, used to, put his hands down her blouse, and, patted her tiny little, nipples, and, she’d felt, aroused, then, she was, overwhelm with, guilt!

Her father’s chair, she’d decided, to BURN that piece of memory down, and, she’d had the movers come, hauled that piece of dead furniture, out on the lawns, and, she’d, STRUCK a match, and, everything went up in smokes, and, she’d, burned the whole house down with it, and she’s still, NOT charged with arson, in fact, the city should be grateful to her, for, ridding the neighborhood of that, eyesore!!!

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Filed under Abandonment of Children, Abuse, Children Murdered, Death by Negligence, Improper Misconducts, Life, Murder, Properties of Life, Sexual Assaults, sexual misconducts, Suppressed Memories

The Room Where, the Memories of My Rape Were Kept, Alive…

It was, inside that old house, in the room, with the, magical bloodied key (like the one in Bluebeard???), where the memories of my rape were, kept, alive…

Since I was raped, by someone I’d, trusted dearly, I’d, started, going inside, this, forbidden room of our old house, and, started, lashing out, painting the walls, the floorboards, with my own, blood.  The room was, covered in, my crimson blood then, and then, the blood, it’d, dried up, I’d felt, a bit better, and I’d, left the room as it was.  Then, I’d, come back into it, and, started, bleeding out all over again, and, left it again, after the blood was, all, bled, out.

And inside that room, something happened, healing, I suppose, with each and every gnash I made on my self, I’d felt, somewhat, better, emotionally/psychologically, don’t know how that could be, ‘cuz, each and every time, I was, drenched, in my own, blood, and yeah, it’d looked, quite, painful!

The room where the memories of my rape were kept, alive, I refused, to throw the key to that particular room away, because, I’d, wanted to keep on, opening up the door again, and again, to those, awful memories that broke me, time, and time again.

Until one day, I’d, lost the key completely, and when I’d realized, that the key to that room of memories of my bloodied past was gone, I flew into a frenzy, started, turning my own house, upside down, trying to, recover the key that got lost, but in the end, to, no avail, until I’d finally, made myself believe, that I won’t, EVER have, the key back again.

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a monster in my room…image from online

I’d, left the thought of the key to my bleeding room being gone for god knows how long (I wasn’t actually counting, I’ll have you know that!), then, one day, when I went outside into the yard, to pick some fresh flowers from the garden, to put inside that vase on the breakfast table, there it is, lying, on the patch of green, by the flower garden patches of my, backyard.

Upon discovery of the key, I felt, disbelief, I bent down, ready, to pick it up, but then, something in me made me, hesitated: do I, really, want to, reclaim the memories of rape in that room back again?  How can I, go through, all those moments of my past of getting raped all over again.  But, I’d, needed to, find that final closure to my past, so, despite what my mind advised me (against picking the key up!), I’d, picked it up.

Then, later that evening, I went back, to my old house, and, stuck that key to the rape room, back into its, hole, that final room down the hallway of the second floor, and, for some reasons, the key won’t turn!

And there was, NO way to unlock, the house wasn’t mine no more (and your point being), besides, I’d broken, a dozen laws (i.e. breaking and entering, burglary, ‘cuz I wanted to find those memories of my rape inside that room, and, set it all, ablaze!  Oh, and there’s, that ARSON charge, from me, setting that room full of memories of my rape on fire!).  So I’d, dropped that thought, and, I walked away, and for some unknown reason, something became lighter inside of me, I got, that spring in my step, for the very first time in my life, and I can finally, breathe………………

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Filed under Abuse, Betrayals, Children Murdered, Death by Negligence, Getting Exposed Too Young, Murder, Properties of Life, Re-Experiencing the Trauma, Sexual Assaults