Today I am a simmering pot. I started out early in my overnight shift feeling anxious. The anxiety kept growing. I realized it was because we were talking about Christmas holidays. In my business, only 1 person who is regularly scheduled can take the night off. Everyone else has to work. I am most senior, so I have the night off to spend with family. For the first time in my life,I don't want to go. This is the bottom layer of my proverbial stew. I'm angry. ENORMOUSLY ANGRY. It keeps growing day by day lately. I get angry about someone trying to control me. I start to simmer. I push back but my still timid nature won't let me exert myself. I simmer more. I think about all the times I got pushed around, insulted, demeaned and physically hurt. I wanna scream. Add one more thing to the pot; I need a release. But I stuff it down. Because I'm mad at a lot of people. Mostly my mom. I wanna shake her. But I'm supposed to honor my mother right. After all, she did give me life. There's another ingredient in the pot. Then there's my dad. My dad who never says I love you before I'm 9 years old. My dad who won't say that again until I'm 13. My dad who doesn't know how to talk to children except call them names and tell them about EVERY LITTLE THING that they do wrong. My dad who calls me names. My dad who thinks I'm stupid, and lazy and fat and unattractive and a slob and an idiot. My dad who has NEVER told me he was proud of me. Then there's the grandfather who can't keep his hands off of me. I'm his "little movie star". He hates me though. That's a front for my mom and dad. We go to visit and he's drunk, and he wants me to stay. My mom and dad thinks it's great he loves us. He thinks it's great cause he's drunk and wants to have sex. I'm angry at him because he had me touching him when I was 11 months old. I'm mad at me because even THEN I KNEW It WASN'T RIGHT. It scared me. My brother and cousin caught him with me. They're laughing. It funny that his d**k is in my hand and I'm just a little kid. I'm embarrassed. Add that to the pot. Every time I see him alone now, he messes with me. I try to hide from him. I go outside and he finds me in the creek. I have to go back. I go back. He's drunk. He's staggering around looking for his hidden beer. No he's not an alcoholic. Add a little sarcasm to the pot. I go to the basement and try to hide. He finds me. He turns out the light and locks me in. I've been in here all day, but I don't know how long. It's getting dark though and I can still see but the light through the single window is enough for me. I'm getting scared. What if he forgot about me. What if I starve to death. What if my mom and dad can't find me. No mom. No dad. No grandma. No grandpa. I'll just wait. Oh wait, I hear him. Thank goodness. I hope my mom and dad are here to pick me up. The door flies open and I can see he's staggering drunk. He smells putrid and he's raging. 'Come over here you f***king little pig. I'm scared. My heart is pounding so loud in my ears. I run over behind the bar and squench in as far as I can. He's yelling profanities and calling me a whore and slut. Add those names to the pot. He reaches in after me. I'm pressed up all the way against the wall and sucking in my stomach as much as I can. I'm feeling like I'm going to pass out. The knots in my stomach are unreal but a frequent companion. Finally his hand grips my ankle and he drags me across the cement floor. I'm crying no no. He rips off my brand new pair of panties. My mom just bought those because I start first grade soon. They're pink and say "Tuesday" on them. i can only cry and whimper. He keeps saying, "Shut the f**K up dammit. I am BEYOND AFRAID. I cannot breath. Now I'm breathing too fast because he's undoing his buckle. He's going to spank me. He grabs my arm and drags me onto the carpet but my hip is against the ceramic hearth. My arm hurts and now my hip is scratched and hurting and I'm crying. Can't we just go back upstairs? Now he is taking he belt off. Oh well, I'm gonna get a whipping for hiding from him. Well it'll be over soon. Now he's taking his pants off and I can see his thing. He makes me hold it and rub it. I HATE that. It makes me feel funny. I'm always afraid someone will see us and make fun of me like my brother did and everybody will laugh at me. I'm trying not to look at it. I turn my head and see my pink "Tuesday" underwear there with writing in red. Now he's on top of me and I CAN NOT BREATHE> I CAN"T CATCH MY....BREATHE. HE's really hurting me down there. Not like before. I start crying and screaming, "Ow Ow OW, stop it hurts, it hurts. He's grunting and being really rough. I can feel the pain on my side from it rubbing the hearth. Now it doesn't hurt so much. I'm looking down at me crying. I think to myself, "it'll be over soon.". It seemed like a hundred years passed before he got up. I could breathe better now nut I can't catch my breath. I'm crying too hard. My hip hurts, my arm hurts, my back hurts and down there is throbbing. I sit upright and see blood coming from down there. OMG am I going to die? What do I do? Then as he's putting on his clothes he says, Look at that you c**t. You got blood on my carpet. Clean that up. I'm afraid to speak, but I have to go to the bathroom. I've been holding it for hours. 'Can I...." "What the fuck do you want. I said to clean that up!" I drop my head because I'm afraid to look at him. I just want to die. I start praying God please help me. He gets up and leaves. I start frantically looking for a bottle or can or something, but I can't hold it. It goes everywhere. Now I'm TERRIFIED! What do I do? If he sees he'll get mad. I'm going to try to sneak upstairs. I open the door and it's harder to see because there's no light in the hall. I start up the stairs but the stair creeks and I hear him coming to the door. I run back down and he comes back and sees that I have pee all over me and blood running down my legs. You are the filthiest bitch. You're gonna sleep here tonight until you dry off. he leaves and this time locks the door. I sit down, pee and all and cry. I'm exhausted, I hurt almost everywhere, especially down there. What if he forgets me. What if mom and dad forget me. I feel dirty and disgusting. Maybe my parents will miss me. After several hours (I think overnight) he comes with the bucket, The smell is really strong. He cleans me with it and it really burns. He tells me my folks are coming to get me. "If you tell anybody what happened, I'll cut your tongue out. If you tell your dad, he won't love you anymore. Daddies don't love little girls who are sluts. You're a slut. Remember, if you tell anyone, I'll cut your tongues out. He had his hunting knife out of it's sheath that he carries strapped to his belt. I nodded my head and went upstairs. I didn't say a word. I left with my mom and dad.
When I got home I went and hid in my closet. I started rocking I used to do that all the time. Put that in the pot to simmer. It's soooooo cute. We find her in the middle of the night crawled in the back of her closet, rocking and banging her head on the wall. Throw in a little denial in the pot. Today it's simmering and will NOT leave my head. I wanna die. I want this to end. It's too much to carry. My mom thinks we should keep it quiet. My dad is in total shock and won't speak of it. Everything is not enough. No matter how long this pot boils today, I cannot be cleansed. I don't know what I expect anyway. I'm just MAD AS HELL!!!