Purest Soul Stains The Skin

This world is full of evil, evil that destroys innocence. At such a young age, by the time I was three years old, I had already been raped for months on end. By the time I was three, I was beaten for months. By the time I was three, he carved markings into my flesh to mark what he believed was his. Worst of all, his mother watched for her own sick pleasure.

Yet, no one knew of these unspoken horrors, and I carried this burden  until I was a teenager, only to discover that the same man who had ruined my view on the world had done it to others. To me, to my two cousins, to the poor girl he attacked after the Fourth of July.

He scarred me. My first sexual encounters with men were genuinely horrifying. By the time I was fifteen and a male touched my chest, I panicked. By the time I was seventeen, I had fallen for a male, one who I had trusted despite my past.

I ended up pregnant. I miscarried after a fallout between the two of us, not long after discovering he had been cheating. And not long after that…  

Not long after that, the unspoken horrors of my past were revealed. Family began to pity me. Yet, if they truly cared, wouldn’t they have done something instead of just patting my shoulder? Why didn’t my aunt believe me? Why did she even give love to his mother after finding out she watched him hurt us? 

When the purest soul is stained by skin, to the public eye, where can she begin? What was I supposed to do other than dread the world I was brought into?