by Black Widow
Inspired by the “Me Too” movement, This is my story, told in my own language: Writing
I don’t know where I am.
Just climbed in a car with some strange man
Who says he knows my new friend Sam,
And I’m riding backseat with my best friend Eve
Who stares out the window nervously,
And then looks back to smile at me.
I’ve got a lot to learn at age fifteen.
Cool kids don’t keep their records clean;
For us, the rules are made to bend
And it may feel wrong but we’re just glad to fit in.
It’s getting late out when we walk in the door
And I whispered to Eve:
“I don’t feel safe anymore.”
Strange house, strange town; Partying
The sun’s going down and I’m not even thinking,
Liquor tastes awful but I can’t feel anymore
While Eve is so wrecked she’s falling on the floor.
In the basement with Sam; music is playing
And she’s trying to speak but I can’t hear
what she’s saying.
I close my eyes because this headache is mean
Until I’m awoken by the loudest scream
And all I can see is a dark, blurry screen.
Where am I? Could this be a dream?
I see Eve on the ground and almost stop breathing;
I see a circle of men giving one savage beating.
I try to scream but there is no sound,
As two strong hands knock me to the ground.
I’m bound around the neck
Almost too tight to breathe
And I can’t bring myself to look over at Eve.
It was age fifteen;
I thought I was a queen,
But really I’m just a joker.
Why so fucking naïve?
“Why didn’t you report?”
Really? Why is this a question?
I won’t let my misery feed their sick obsession.
Though I’ve broken my silence and my discretion,
The trauma I feel
is in my facial expression.
I’m feeling so tired, alone and so weak,
As Eve holds her head down refusing to speak.
I hope her silence takes the pain away
There is no right or wrong way.
There is more to each story than just what you see
And for each story like mine,
There’s a girl just like Eve.
©Black Widow 2018
(Line count — 52)