September 2008 - Posts

Rebecca’s Story

Do you remember the day Elvis died? I’ll never forget it. I was nine years old. My rapist was 22. I knew him from the neighborhood. That afternoon I ran into him, and he told me that his cat had given birth to kittens. Did I want to see them? Nine-year...

Mary J.'s poems

SHAME ON ME Daddy loves me. He wouldn’t hurt me. I made him do it – I’m bad. Shame on me. Mommy looks away. It must be OK. I wish she would open her eyes – I’m bad. Shame on me. Daddy touches me and teaches me. He says it’s OK. I don’t like it – I’m bad...

Melanie's Story

When I was five years old, my mother started dating another man. Some time after that, maybe when I was seven or eight, he started sexually abusing me. I don’t remember many things clearly such as when and how it started or exactly what took place over...