“Hey, look what I found!” I stagger through to the living room brandishing a bottle of rose wine like a trophy. We’ve been drinking for hours. Everyone’s in bed asleep upstairs. You leap up and hold my hand up in the air, we bow to an imaginary crowd. Giggling, we collapse on to the sofa which creaks and is pushed back with a small thud against the wall. Our giggles die down eventually.
You open the bottle and take a swig before passing it to me. I do the same.
Wear the grudge like a crown
You take the bottle back, and take a drink before setting it down on the carpet at the foot of the couch. Your eyes are on me. You’re not just looking at me, you’re looking through me. You see as far down as you want to. But you only want my skin. I look away, shift imperceptibly further away. I’m not clear at all.
Desperate to control
I lie back, pushing my hair out of my face. Bad move.
You’re there. You’re right there. All over me.
“I’m sleeping here.”
“No you’re not.”
A kiss. A disgusting, sloppy, dog kiss. Your hand finds the hair on the back of my head. I can’t move to where you’re not. I can’t move.
Unable to forgive
“Oh jesus this isn’t your first time, is it?” hot breath on my still-covered breasts. I squirm and push your lips away. I say nothing. My breath catches. I bleed. You moan your satisfaction.
I feel nothing. No shame. No hurt. No humiliation. I am numb. This is not what I was expecting but I guess it’s not so bad.
Let the waters kiss and trans mutate these leaden grudges in to gold
“He’s in a mental institution.” She says, “I’m going to see him for his birthday, maybe take him a cake or something. According to his mum he’s getting better.” I nod serenely, make a small sound of agreement as she walks out of the door.
“They let him out a week ago. He’s back at his mums house, I’m gonna stay over there tonight before I head back to uni so I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.” I echo. She doesn’t know. Nobody knows. Nor will they ever. I spend the night curled up trying to somehow telepathically beg him to leave her alone.
I type and type and scribble and scribble and it doesn’t get any better. None of it gets any better and I can’t stop it. There is nothing I can do. He got away with GBH how can he be expected to go down for this?
I’ve got to let go.
Lyrics by Tool. Find the song here, enjoy it like I do. Don’t ask me about this.
November 23, 2011
TW: Rape. (Prompt: Holding grudges)