My first encounter with a man was not gentle or loving. There was no faint touch of the lips that eventually led to more. There were no butterflies in my stomach as I waited in anticipation. There was only a child having her innocence ripped away by a man, 35 years her senior. I was too young to know about the inevitability of ****** attraction. But, I wasn’t supposed to be the object of any man’s desire at that age, was I? I was a young girl meant to navigate through my firsts with an endearing sense of naivety.
Where is that sweet girl? I think I lost her. Now, I can’t seem to remember her. There is a gaping hole in my soul that mourns for that girl; What she could have been.
Oh, how he wrecked her. He took her free will and crushed her spirit. He preyed on a young child; warped her beyond belief. He made her question if life was worth living. She begged for mercy.
My cries were silenced by the overwhelming fear of his authority. I was consumed by my deeply rooted deference to men. I had never experienced so much pain. He scratched, groped, and pushed his way into getting what he wanted. That perverse moment of gratification in exchange for the loss of a young girl’s hope in humanity.