Black Girl Lost: Memories of the Man who visits at night

I had a white daybed with bars the shape of a heart with gold caps at the end. Long white lace curtains decorated my windows they were given to me by my great grandmother. Next to my bed stood a black wire end table that I covered with a navy, tan, and orange satin scarf with gold chains printed on it. The floors were a dark brown soft shaggy carpet. I had a closet but I never used it being that it lead to an attic. All scary movies had an attic that made me very afraid of them. I can remember that house like it was yesterday.

At night when I lay in my bed I could hear the raccoons scrapping on the ceiling. I just knew that one day they would come through the ceiling and eat me up.

The steps leading upstairs where very old and fragile. With each step they made a creaking sound. That’s how I knew he was coming. It would be in the middle of the night when the house was quiet and still. I couldn’t see him, the room was too Dark. But he’d tap me a few times to let me know it was him. He’d pulled down my panties. he wouldn’t take his clothes off he would just keep them on. He climbed on top of me pulled out his stuff and put it inside of me. I tensed up It hurt so bad. No matter how many times he did it I never got use to. His weight felt like a ton of bricks over my body. He smelled like liquor marijuana and like he hadn’t showered in days. It wasn’t unusual because he was a corner boy. He found pleasure in me and my innocense he would moan in my ear. His heavy breathing felt hot on my neck. I would just lay there with my eyes closed and still. I wouldn’t move cry scream or budge I’d just lay there.

Him having sex with me was the beginning of my sorrows. It gave birth to pain and sin. With every stroke came anger, depression, anxiety, lesbianism, addiction, alcoholism, and suicide. I was just like him now we became one flesh.

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