Cornered by Fear

I feel so violated. I ran and ran until I found sanctuary in the stuffy dark broom closet off the kitchen downstairs. Still and silent I remain, with barely enough room in this tiny overcrowded place. The wooden mop handles painfully jab me in my side, while the overwhelming smell of household chemicals adds to my nausea. I stifle my gagging, daring not move or cry, lest I be found out. I listen for sounds of his footsteps, but thankfully hear nothing but my own breathing. Who knows where he lurks. Here in this dark space I find safety…for now.

In my isolation, I hear myself asking; “Is it my fault? Did I do something to lead this on?” You’d think he’d leave me alone when my response is always the same; revulsion and fear. When I ask for help, I am completely dismissed. “Uncle Kevin?…No way! You must be imagining it. I won’t stand for talk like that…I will not hear of it. Are you crying out for attention?” Yet here in the deep blackness, thoughts of disgust are empowering me to take a stand, making me stronger. Jumping, I hear the back door slam and I realize that I am now alone. Time to take action! I promise myself that it will be different this time. This time I will seek help and be heard. I will not live in fear. A deep breath enters my lungs as I exit my hideout. I will be a victim no longer!

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