Contemplation

The Silence of the Abused

The truth is on display

Who will they believe?

Not me

Its been a year

and still he shoves cotton down my throat

I fight and tell the truth, my nails draw blood but he grins wickedly

when they finally arrive and I believe help has come he clears my mouth and falls to the ground

a devious look in his eyes

I am as shocked as the ones who have entered the room.

I beg them to believe me but they pull me away as he sobs at the 'pain'

I feel rage bubble inside

I tear free and grab at him, screaming, "Stop Lying!"

Again I am pulled away.

no one believes me.

"please he did this, he's done it for years, you have to believe me!"

they look at me with pity

call me delusional

an attention seeker

I look back and watch the people I once knew looking at me with disgust and disturbed pity

My eyes overflow as the door begins to shut.

"Please I'm telling you the truth" I say so softly that I think no one hears me

but he does and his eyes shine with venom and darkness

A darkness I had known since I was five years old and ran crying to my parents.

As he clasped his hands around my so called 'friend'

I knew then there was no saving those who refused to believe.

As the boy who claimed to have loved me, sat beside the one who abused me.

As my closest friend held his hand, her eyes glowing with something I feared would destroy her.