A Sin Endured in His Name.
Sexual Exploitation of a Child.
The word vomit after my half brothers mother said, " I don't regret that day," on a call for work. The day she spoke of she was chasing me down with a knife in front of Child Protective Services.
I spent some time in the system. I never thought I would. I created an art of keeping the "Shhh."
Yet one day, I was so empty inside the whispers of my pain echoed, spilling out for all to wade.
While understanding what had happened to me my entire life, I walked helplessly through the halls of my hometown school.
Breaking and digging pens into the skin of my limbs. Hoping this pain would burn away what was always made to be: my sin.
It was my fault.
My fault that I was where grown men let out their disgrace.
Was it really because I was curated to cure? Curious? For years, kids told me I was groomed.
Groomed to give that of which I did not have.
So, they forged a way and never forgot to say,
"Blame Dad."
About the Creator
Felicia Martinez
My empathy is as deep as earth's oceans, and I am learning to give that to myself. I have CPTSD among other mental health diagnoses. Writing has always been the best outlet for me and now, I challenge myself to share it more openly.
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