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Inside my mind is a mirror, shattered and broken. It used to reflect my image, an innocence of the child see when gazed upon. Can it be repaired? Perhaps but like any broken mirror, I’ll always see the fucking cracks!

The innocence once reflected, now twisted and distorted into barely recognizable visions. A constant reminder of a world shattered in a moment. Always it stares back at me. Always the twisted image is clear to me.

The cracks can be concealed to the naked eye, but remain ever broken just beneath the mind’s eye. Others may not see the same vision that still haunts me. The vision that reminds me of the day it all changed.

I’m growing used to the cracks but I’d be lying if I said they no longer bother me. How could they not bother me? They serve as a reminded of the day my world changed. The day the life I knew ended and the world became a darkened place. The day that robbed me of so much and put me on my current destructive path.

Every child in time has their world is no longer so bright. For some like me the world goes dark all at once. It changes from a place of wonder and amazement to a place of fear and doubt.

For most I imagine it’s a gradual process of childhood wonder ending. It’s probably barely noticed while it happens and only sometime after it’s long gone is it appreciated. The innocence and wonderment of childhood is God’s gift to us all. But it’s a fleeting gift and it is most always lost sooner or later.

Mine was taken all at once. It’s lose was noticed. It wasn’t the gradual transition it should have been. Hence many of the wonderment years were robbed from me.

The day my world ended and hell began. The day my childhood ended, my innocence was stolen, my trial began and my reflection forever altered. I thought I could find the path out. I’ve come to realize I never will be free of this. So now to bring my path in hell into alignment with the path I want and not the one prescribed to me.

Oh I know I’ve no one to blame for the attempts on my life but me. I own that and the shame is and forever shall be mine alone. My hands, my action and my shame. But I do not bear full responsibility for the path I walk. Not alone, no there is much responsibility to share for the path I travel.

What good is it? No matter who else shares the responsibility for my present path. I alone walk the path set before me. To blame others for my path is futile. No one but me can choose now.

It’s a lie to say I wouldn’t trade an eternity for what was taken away. To be able to go back to who I was before all this was thrust upon me. That’s but a dream for the one that’s been forever altered.

It would also be a lie to say I’d give up my son to change it. I have to focus on the good to conquer the bad.

The pendulum of choice swings, but it can be weighted by our thoughts. We can alter the course of choice by will. Perhaps I can will it to a favorable outcome for me. Time will tell and the tale of Michelle remains unclosed, her final chapter yet written and perhaps a long way off from being such.

So to alter my pendulum of choice, weighted by good. I may yet find the path which leads me from hell.
People don’t understand all I lost that day.

Here is a short list of what rape stole from me.

Innocence. I lost my childhood innocence of the world. Where the world was a place of grand adventure and was bright and carefree.

Safety. My sense of safety and that the world was a safe place.

Identity. I lost my reflection. My face was forever altered in the attack. It serves to remind me daily of that moment.

Wellbeing. My sense of wellbeing was lost. I knew that moment evil truly walked among us. I knew then and there the evil mankind was capable of inflicting on another.

Death. I’ve had to mourn the loose of myself, my former self because my former life ended that day. My life as a survivor began. I still am mourning the person I was. Try being alive and mourning your own death.

Hope. Yes my hope for the future was stolen because the person I was died.
Sanity. My world was turned inside out. I never know if I am up or down until I’m there. I’ve lost so much mentally. So much of my mind is used up trying to just cope day to day. Push past this feeling, force myself to be brave when I want to run from people. So much work every day just to get to the next step, the next moment.

Trust. It’s so hard to trust people for me. I look at most men as the next one who will try and hurt me. I am often frightened when others are nearby. I am always on eggshells in crowds, around strangers, in strange places or in general out in public.

Truth. My trust in goodness, honesty, and kindness. My truth in the trust that God is good.

Faith. Yeah I’ve discussed my faith being challenged in all this before. Surprise it made the list again.

Joy. It was replaced with guilt, sadness, pain. Why I feel guilt is beyond me but I know what I feel.

Ability. My ability to allow others to be close to me. My ability to be loved and to give it openly. For me these are strong and dangerous emotions for me.

Control. Yeah I lost my control that day. The ability to control feelings, situations, everything taken in just a few moments.

Self-worth. My sense of self-worth was taken. Not only that day but in many to follow. Try being pregnant and in high school. You become the dirty slut. The object of rejection and ridicule. My self-worth suffered from the rape and the days and years that followed.

Virginity. A gift I should have been able to give to someone special someday.

This is a very short list. No part of my life was unaffected. No part of the person that was left to survive this is unaffected by it. I could go on and on about the parts of my life forever altered. We honestly don’t have time for that. Suffice it to say my life was a mirror, clear and bright. It’s been broken, shattered and though taped and glued I’ll always see the fucking cracks.

~Michelle