((Based On An Actual True Story))

Never would I have thought that i would have ended up here.
My clothes on the floor, and my dignity pitied on and thrown
across the room only to be smashed into pieces. I was a
normal girl, like you and me. I never asked for this. Never
have I ever wanted this. I was always a good girl. Did well
in school, and always was on time. I was always respectful
of people i have to raise my head to see, and smiled with a
gleam in my eye to the ones i had to bend down to as i shook
their small, innocent hands. I had always tried my best to
show a little kindness, while always staying out of trouble.
Yet, here I am. God has spat me out of His mouth. He does
not dare to lay an eye on me, for as if He did, I would have
to cut this vein in shame of having to call myself: His. 

I must have done something wrong. I must have commited such
a dasterdly sin; created some horrifying scene for an
innocent soul. I did not live up to the expectations of this
higher soul. When he told me to shush, I screamed. When he
told me to lie still, I moved. When he told me I wanted it,
I said I didn't. I had shown only such disobediance to these
other eyes. Dyed blue of such innocence, like the baby blue
that go away after you're born. But his stayed. He must have
been something special. And yet I must have done something
terribly wrong to disturb his tranquil soul. 

I was only fifteen. I never had any experience. Never even
kissed a boy. Yet, I have probably done more than my fellow
peers I encounter everyday here, through these dim hallways
of Shady Shadows. My parents left me here, involuntarily.
They didn't want me though, they never did. "Get That THING
Over Here! YOU! Pick That The Fuck Up!" "Yes mother..." 

Daddy just watched and read the paper while watching black
and white reruns of the Flintstones. My little brother, only
of two years, was sitting down on the floor, sucking on his
pacifier like that man made me do to him. My brother started
crying and the nieghbors heard me finally open my mouth. A
scream; the loudest one yet. I cried out Bloody Mary and my
face was lined with deep red colors that now lie as
invisible scars.

When they put me here, I was almost happy in that I wouldn't
have to suffer such pain. But I hadn't realized on how numb
I would actually start to feel. There was no emotion, and no
where to run. Families came in, all wanting to adopt us. Of
course my brother was the first to go, but I had never left
the orphanage. No one adopts teenagers anymore. Especially
sinners. One by one, they all came in smiling at first.
Handshakes and hello's took place, and then, usually
couples, would walk around, hand in hand, and smile at the
little kids who would pull at their legs. When they came
across the adolescences, they started to cling to each
other, and dodge the presence of most of us. They were
almost "afraid" of us, as if we were going to swoop uo and
attack them like crazed ninjas. And yet, I had never even
bothered to really even greet them with a smile. I've
learned that when they say they want you, it's all lies.

Most of the time during the year when the holidays were
over, the place had almost seemed abandoned. The only thing
that had stayed were the the cries of the children hiding
under their beds and the silent screams of those that had
never even had a voice to share. We were always hungry, they
never fed us enough. Sometimes I have been so hungry, the
rouches and waterbugs that had passed by did not seem so
intolerant to almost indulge on. I mostly wore the same
clothes again and again. They always had a little smell to
them and would have the same juice stain from the past three
weeks. My hair was always knotty and quite oily. I never
really put too much time into how I looked. My clothes were
always too tight and really showed the formation of my body.
I did not look my age, but older. I had the big chest and
the round ass that guys would fawn over. I always tried to
wear lose clothing so it wouldn't show but I never got new
clothes too often so most were very tight, sometimes
suffocating me. I tried to still fit in with everyone, but
most were to themselves. No one bothered with anyone, except
for the people that truley did not care anymore. They would
lash out at anybody that crossed eye to eye with them. I
always stayed out of their way. 

Once I was just reading an old book I had. War and Peace.
It's a very long book but I always reread it. It gives me an
escape. I also read Jane Eyre in where I imagine myself as
in some kind of love fantasy, despite the fact none of it
even exists. One guy came up to me though and through the
chair in front of me across the room and grabbed my arm
tightly. He then swung me around and through me down to the
floor, sliding across the room. Then he took some hard
rubbered wire or rope of his and started to whip me like in
those biblical times or in the times of slavery. I still
have the scares that start to burn when I touch them.
Sometimes my eyes would even start to water up to them. My
tears were very salty, and had burned my eyes to a crisp red
color. It took me a while to even learn how to stand right
after that incident.

But then came the day. Today. Where I had just walked calmly
along the narrow hallway to my room as always. I was a
little late in that I had left my book in the play room. It
was really dark and dusty. But most of all, it was silent.
It was the "too quite" feeling you get when you really do
not hear one thing. There were no cars, no squeaking doors
or cracked windows. No wind or anything. I then tried to
make a noise, a voice, just to tone out the silence, but
nothing had come out. I was incapable of making a sound at
the time. That would soon not be a problem though.

Suddenly I heard a tin pail fall to the floor. A man was
there. A cleaning man. Five of them. Standing. I never talk
with them, but they had always seemed nice to everyone;
greeting people with their warm handshakes and friendly
smiles. They called out different sexist names. I was a pet.
A mistress. I was a child.

One started speed walking and i then started to race my own
pace. He tried to grab me and i dropped my book and tried to
break free. The other one came and pushed me back I fell to
the floor. I started gasping for air and my legs then failed
on me. I had no strength to even move. I was screaming in my
head "THIS ISN'T FAIR! I CAN'T MOVE! PLEASE! HELP ME!" Yet
again, I had no voice. It hadn't come back. 

Another guy started pulling my clothes off as he had lied
himself on top of my body. Everyone was started to pull off
their clothes. I had almost wished they would have drugged
me so I at least would have to remember this. And yet, they
kept me awake. One by one, they took turns. I was bleeding
and I was screaming. They screamed at me to listen. I was
their dog. I had to do what they say, but I wouldn't. Even
when it was too late I still tried to fight back. I can't
even describe the pain I felt. I hated it, but slightly
liked it which killed me the most "YOU LIKE IT BITCH! YOU
LIKE IT! OH OH OH FUCK! YOU LIKE IT BITCH! WHAT A BITCH!
CAN'T FUCK RIGHT!" I was crying and screaming. They got even
more mad at that. I didn;t want to even see daylight. I
would rather have them murder me, than voilate every part of
me including my soul.

The worst part was not even that. If they had just left me
then, I would have been better than I am now. And yet, they
did the most torturous thing. Those evil blue eyes; they
were not so innocent anymore. They then pulled up their
pants and threw my clothes at my, lying there with my salty
tears mixed in with red dye. I was breaking down; I couldn't
breathe. One by one, they started their way out, leaving me
there. I was finally alone. And yet, those blue eyes
returned and yelled out as he opened his wallet "For your
good services" and through a five dollar bill at me. 

When he left, I froze. Could not move, speak or even
breathe. I didn't even blink. Then I started getting up a
little and through the five across the room saying "I DON'T
WANT IT! I DON'T WANT IT! I DON'T WANT IT!" But no one was
there. And there I was, lying there. And even years later, I
have never left that one memory. For I cannot, it haunts me
deeply. I will always lie there, still screaming, frozen in
time with
            My
              Dried
                   Up
                     Tears...