PART THREE - PICKLES & PUKE

Here's what I do remember about this particular rape. 

I remember thinking I was drowning in the wine. I was crying and hearing my fathers voice. God How I HATED his voice. 
I remember grunting noises and gross terrible sounds, but I couldn't tell where they were coming from. 

I remember waking on my bed, having no idea where I was or what had happened. My eyes opened to a puke and shit filled sheet, a strong vinegar smell and pickle seeds everywhere. My shit was all over me as if I had been rolling in it. 

My father was nowhere around and I just kept crying, puking and shitting all at the same time. Years later I would learn that I'd had alcohol poisoning, and could of died from drinking so much, so fast. 

Next thing I remembered, was me falling down and my naked, drunk and disgusting father helping me up. I remember hitting my head in the shower and falling down. 

I remember realizing I was naked. OH GOD, PLEASE save me. 
I remember my father holding me up in the shower while he sang to me as he washed the shit and puke off of me because I couldn't seem to stand. I HATE HIS VOICE 

I remember laughing as I fell out of the shower onto my back 
and thinking irrationally that mama would be mad because I used her good towels. 

I remember waking up in my bed again. It must of been the next morning, just me and the shits. The Flu had been much worse than I had thought cause I felt like I was dying. I couldn't move, had a horrible headache and felt as if I'd been run over. 

Then the flashes thru my mind of pickles. I even thought I could taste them. Flashes of purple wine. Was it a dream? Please let it be a dream. 

I've never been able to eat one of my mothers homeade pickles again. I wondered what else my father would take from me. 

I didn't realize until I got up and looked in the mirror that I did indeed have pickle seeds in my hair and bruises all over me the size of baseballs. My sheets were clean and so was I. 

Scenes of the shower party went thru my mind, and and made me so sick that I wretched. My lip was split open and twice it's normal size. I was horrified to see the bruises all over my arms, legs, back, stomach and my butt. There were huge knots all over my head. 

I wondered where my mother was. And, where was she yesterday when all this was happening. Like "where the hell were you mother, while all this shit was happening to me." 

I looked in the mirror and saw how dirty, and ugly I was. I couldn't let anyone see me. 

Hide them! Hide me! Hate me! Hate life! What's happening to me, I wondered. And I couldn't quit crying. I was so sad, I was sure I wouldn't live thru such sadness. No one could. 

I wondered what I had ever done to deserve this. 

 No one could ever know about my useless, disgusting, ugly life and family. No one would understand. I'll be a hated, a freak. Just a stupid, redheaded, ugly freak. 

I couldn't let anyone know just how dirty I was and how much I hated myself. I pounded on myself with my fists crying "no more, no more, no more." 

And then I realized what I had to do. I would make sure I never had to go thru this again. Suicidal thoughts made me happy again. There was no way out for me except death, no other way to stop my father. This horror I called my life would just keep going on forever and death seemed sweet at the time. 

I lay on my bed crying until I had nothing left. I wanted death like I had wanted nothing else before in my life.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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