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Jan 2019
I remember.

I remember everything.
Every little detail.
I was young, to young.
I was just a child.
Why would you do something like this to a child.

I remember.

It was February 9th, about a week after my birthday.
I remember watching cartoons in my brothers room.
I was eating an apple, a green apple.
Sitting in a red fold up lawn chair for kids.
I faintly remember the smell of your cologne.
You told me we were playing a game.

I remember.

I fell for your game.
Get on the bed you say, let’s play!
I remember you taking off my clothes.
Blue jean shorts and grey T-shirt.
The way your hands touched my skin.
Your breath on my body.

I remember.

I know now the things you did below my waist.
You left when my parents got home from work.
The day went on like normal.
My mum gave me a bath, put me in my pajamas.
We were in the living room watching television.
I had asked for a banana.

I remember.

I told my mum what you did to me.
About the game we played.
Sitting in a room full of grownups I don’t know.
Answering questions that I don’t want to.
Being without my parents.
Feeling guilty and ashamed.

I remember.

Even now 19 years later.
I remember all of those things.
I can’t forget those things.
I want to forget those things.
You did this to me.
I will always remember.

I’ll remember.

I am a victim.
I am a fighter.
I will survive.
I will remember you.
I will never fall for those games.
It has been 19 years.

19 years...
Julieann Jonson
Written by
Julieann Jonson  23/F
(23/F)   
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