Randy

Pull down your pants!
He held me by my throat!
Pull them down now!
His voice is dangerous!
He’ll hurt me if I don’t!
And were at the creek!
No-One will hear me!
He may kill me this time!
I have to.
Lay on your stomach!
Lay down!
He pushes me down!
I start to cry to myself!
Keep quiet… he’ll kill me!
Don’t make a sound!
He moves against me he pushes himself in!
“This here’s Corn holing!”
“It feels great!”
“Well maybe not for you!”
He’s laughing and pushing in me!
“You’re a fucking’ freak!”
“Maybe I’ll crush your skull when I’m done!”
“OH God, make it stop!”
“OH God Help Me Please!”
“Help me please.”
…no-one hears.
He’s done.
My brother walks up the creek as I try to dress.
“What are you faggots up to?”
They walk away laughing.
But Randy comes back.
He punches me.
I double up in pain.
“You tell anyone I’ll finish what I started!” he kicks me into the creek.
He runs to catch up to Rick.
Their laughing mocks me as they disappear down the creek.
I wash in the creek.
I scrub and scrub.
I am filth!
I cry and rock back and forth.
“Help me please?”
“God help me please?”
“Why won’t you help me?”
It’s getting dark.
The monsters would be out soon.
It’s almost dinner.
I feel nothing.
I am nothing.
I won’t remember.
I don’t remember.
It’s all my fault.
No-one will even look for me.
Not ever.
Not ever.
Be a good boy.
God will help you if you’re a good boy.
Who could I tell?
The family loved them!
They only tolerated me.
Everyone knew that I was the bad egg.
I was seven.
I didn’t even know what sex was.
But it was all my fault.
And I didn’t REMEMBER!
For around forty years I didn’t remember.
Just remember that, “Teachers didn’t really give a shit about abuse when I was a kid”.
Back then the popular thinking was, “A boy being raped, just don’t talk about it”.
After all what possible harm could it do?

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