The Blue Rose

Mission:  Healing Through Art 

  • Goal:  Empowering victims to break the silence and find their voice
 Senior year

Senior Year
Dark skinned West Indian boy
Short curly hair,
intense sexy eyes
Muscles firm,
lips soft and sweet
Kissing him made me want more
In the car,
his house, 
even at his cousins house

Mentally in a dark place 
A victim of sexual abuse
We had sex in a dark room, 
His cousins room
My only salvation …Sex! 
With that West Indian boy  

He was my drug a substitute for love and affection

Pepsi and Vodka chaser 
Always by my side 
Alcohol induced promiscuity,
his cousin …
my best friend
in the same dark room 
Putting myself in a risky position 
I did not care… I needed this chocolate West India
love to feed my needs

Plotting behind my back --- Conspiracy Led to this 
dreadful-typical-vulnerable-physical-uninvited-
personal attack


The ride home a favor for my boyfriend
I knew I shouldn’t go alone 
Something telling me NO! 
A favor .... A ride .... That’s all I offered 
A simple conversation  
A secret shared
A conspiracy unfolded

He requested sex 
Suggested, then demanded 
He wanted me ... NO! was my response
He removes my keys …gets out ... Walks into his
house -        

Ignoring my pleas I screamed 

Adrenaline rush
Something telling me NO
A familiar place 
I’d been there before
Dark back yard
Up the winding wooden stair case
Heart…beating fast
The Darkness
The impeding Fear ....  Entering his room 
Caught from behind
Heart pounding

His voice echoing as he tells me to strip down
My voice strong firm …NO! Pushed onto his bed
Tears streaking down my face --- Don’t do this!
Fighting --- Struggling to be free - - - Wrists aching 
Held tight Tugging at my skirt… panties torn away
Free long enough to escape --- Top of the bed
Fetal position ---- Legs grabbed pulled toward him 
His body weight heavy ---- Fixed on his eyes 
Begging him to use a condom 
Since he was going to rape me

Struggling, angry, I piss him off --- Knife --- at the
base of my neck.... Raw and exposed.
My life is in his hands
Tears streaking
Brain thinking
Voice speaking

If you’re going to rape me PLEASE …use a condom!

On top of me  He’s laughing … trying to enter
me “Don’t worry… I Had a VASECTOMY”  
Physical fight paralyzed Browbeaten 
Use a condom if you’re going to rape me
PLEASE…use a condom if you’re going to rape me!
PLEASE…use a condom if you’re going to rape me!

Words repeated again and again…and again

Erection impossible, 
Sexually, unable to perform
Body weight lifted… knife dropped 
Keys tossed to the foot of the bed
Disappeared into the darkness…

My exit translucent
My memory vague
In motionless flight
Fresh air…heart breathing
Alive but emotionally dead inside
  
 Betrayed in the Worst Way

I was beside myself, Afraid to walk away
Unable to escape him
He was supposed to be my best friend.
We liked video games, and hanging with the guys
was second nature

I liked walking through the woods, climbing trees
and loved to go with him to walk his dog.

I never saw us, as being different
There was no boy/girl – it was just friends
It was curiosity, making out dry humping
(as we called it…back then)

Until he wanted more --- on the floor, creeping
beside the bed, and said “But we are friends”
As he unfastened my pants.

It was hide n go seek --- Ending up in the same
spot.  Little sisters couldn’t find us

Dead screams in silent… basement storage
A reason to grope my breast
Press his penis against my rear
Digital penetration in places That should never be
revealed.

It was tag, tripping over me falling on top of
me couch catches our fall --- hard penis thrusted ... cheap thrills before --- little sisters get us

convinced sisters to sneak in your room at night
an excuse for you to place your hand between my
thighs --- night gowns not feet-ees to keep me
safe as they do in the winter

sometimes…. I wished every day was winter!

childhood innocents turned into sex games!
didn’t want to fight him.
I was afraid of my father, his father, Our sisters
catching us and I’d get blamed.

I was uncertain as to why or what it was about.
I just knew….the more it happened the more
uncomfortable I felt --- around him or his family.

When the opportunity for sleepovers were
inevitable I tried  .. .to stay away ... to make other
plans  --- I didn't want another night with him
creeping to the living room, climbing on top of
me, trying to penetrate me   ----- While my
sister and his sister laid in the bed beside me.

Afraid yet wishing one of them would wake...
Wishing just beyond the hall way --- one of
his parents would get up,.. a sound would catch
him off guard... Scare him enough... To make him
go back to his bed.

  I never told that first time or any time after, But
in my heart of hearts my grandmother knew he
was no good.

 A trip to the basement …unlocked liquor --- A sip
here, a swallow there, a shot in the morning chug
a lug first beer  2nd and 3rd placed outside the
basement door…to drink as I walk to the
school bus stop

Days go bye --- feel nothing …. letting everyone
see What I wanted them to see:  Hidden in site. 
My grandmother knew my fears but could not
read my fears "Why was I still hanging around …
that boy?"

You see we were friends with his younger sister If
he couldn't have me   … Would he touch one
of them? 

He touched me every chance he could get... The
​ vile feel of his hands around my breast... The
pulsating between his pants ----  whispered fear 

​ School vacation
He walked through my kitchen door --- My back to
him washing dishes when --- He walked up behind
me..... Grabbed my breast.... That knife in my
hand, gave me the answer, the way out.

(I turned and told him,) “don’t you ever touch me
again”

It was over… until years later when his sister
heard a rumor  Dee “raped" the girl upstairs.

first boyfriend walked up behind me grabbed my
breast from behind… the tears burned as the ran
down my check…that vile feeling emerged…

To re-live the misuse of child hood games ….
Innocence shadowed