Why must we read of such sickening violence, such unthinkable acts of cruelty and violation? Because the world is filled with it, and people become complacent, these events all too common. But each life that is broken from this violence will never be the same, will never trust, will never have dreams of love and delight, rather nightmares for life. In life this act of rape must be viewed as the most heinous crime on earth, for it is beyond murder, it is a life sentence of torture. And for those souls who perpetrate such violence on innocence, well they have no place in society.
The struggle was pointless,
and she could feel herself slipping away,
as if tissue paper swept up by a passing car,
dancing on the air, far from that dark alley.
She saw her father’s face, his eyes fixed on hers
and felt an overwhelming shame,
yet she could not cry, could not feel,
as in a far away place her body rocked.
That strange slapping sound
accompanied a singular pain, as if a knife
repeatedly driven into her, echoed,
but she was far from it, floating, weightless.
Eyes closed, motionless she lay,
the beast pounding her, groaning like some animal,
and she wondered if this was death,
if this would be her ending, her last breath.
Then that pounding ceased,
and her body was still, her thoughts still aloft,
and a dull ache pervaded her emptiness,
as her mind tried to re-enter her body.
In a crescendo of sound, as the world suddenly returned,
she lay on the cold alley floor,
trying not to realize what had just happened,
and as she rose to her elbows, she saw she was covered in blood.
Her consciousness could not reconcile
and she sat there for a moment perplexed,
trying desperately to part herself from reality,
to not answer that door, the desperate knocking a panicked affront.
Moments later flashing lights filled the alley,
and blurred faces kept asking questions,
their collective mutterings a cacophony
as she was lifted, strapped and delivered into an ambulance.
She kept apologizing to her father,
his stern expression suddenly bringing her to tears,
her silent sobs just the first trickle of what would follow
in the wake of this, her broken life.
She felt so empty, so violated,
as if her soul was beaten to submission
and flesh was all that remained,
void of connection, void of light.
Tony DeLorger © 2016
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