English Essay

Rae Warren1

Jenkins2

Col. Prep II3

Sunday, April 12, 2009 4

White Fire5

“It’s only rape if it’s someone you don’t know.” 6

“People who get raped just want attention.” 7

“It’s your fault if you get taken advantage of.”8

These are just a few of the common misconceptions that are associated with rape and those who’ve been victimized by it. It sickens me to know end that someone could even fathom such thoughts. It’s like saying an abused child is at fault for angering their parent. This sort of mindset comes from ignorant people who can’t even begin to imagine the heart wretch pain you go through upon being attack. They don’t get the mind numbing self-hate that is left along with the after taste of sordidness. In their pathetic little live, never will they wake up in the dark, clutching a plush pillow close to their heart in self loathing, because they are focused to give bare to what they conceive as rotten fruit. Even fewer are those who will be affected by it. Watching movies or reading over a short passage in a book is not enough to understand the conflicting emotions that come with having survived such a trauma. Even the news cannot drop you into the shoes of a grieving family as they watch their peal deteriorate day by day. They just can’t. And they never will. But you know they say experience is the best teacher. So just for a few fleeting moment you are not who you think you are. You’re the younger sibling of a promising young woman in the city of St. Louis……9

Finally! You think as you stretch your arms toward the ceiling. You’ve just finished an extreme game of Pokemon with you friends and now you feel as if your hands weigh a ton. Slowly, you crawl over to your backpack to call your mother. Yikes! You check the time it eight o’clock at night and you said you’d be home by five. The phone slips from you hand and falls to the ground in a shallow puddle of water. It takes you awhile to realize that it’s your own sweat! So nervous were you about being in trouble you started to perspire buckets. Wrapping your hand into a towel, (which soon becomes damp) you dial home with painful trepidation.10

Riiiiiing……..11

She’s going to kill me12

Riiiiiing……..13

How could I forget to check the time14

Riiiiiing……..15

If I hang up now I can still make it to Mexico16

Riiiiiing……..17

Or maybe Canada will be faster…..18

“Hello.”19

Silence. Perspiration picks up. Thinking of making a deal with the Witness Protection Agency.20

“Hello. I can hear you breathing.”21

Covers mouth. “Mmmmrry thmt mimmin mll moo mnner.”22

“What?”23

“I said, ‘I’m sorry that I didn’t call you sooner.” Waits for explosion.24

“Are you still at the Russles?”25

Nods head furiously before realizing she wasn’t present. “Uh-huh.”26

“Alright. Your sister’s still out enjoy the last few weeks of summer. So I’ll get you in a few. Tell Mrs. Russle thank you for putting you up for so long, ya here?”27

“Yes’m.” Dead line.28

IT isn’t until you close your phone that you realize how fast your heart had been beating. Your pulse returns to normal. A close call if there ever was one. It never crosses your mind that your mother had simply forgotten about the deadline. So when you enter the car you’re on pin and needles to the point that even a simple gesture in her talking causes you to flinch. Nothing scared you more than the thought of being backhanded at any given second. Too bad things had to change.29

9:0330

“Where is that girl?”31

“Idaknow. Maybe with Mark.” Flipping through Harry Potter five, barely listening.32

“Mark who?”33

Shrug. “The fassy boy. It’s amazing that he been beat up yet.”34

“Don’t be saying word like that in my household, girl.” Turns up Law & Order35

Another shrug. Walks five paces on to her room. “Ain’t my fault he’s fassy.”36

“I heard that!”37

10:0338

Still no sister. Looks up at the limes green faux sky. Never has the room be so silent. Crickets in the summer haze lull you to sleep. But an uneasy pang keeps you awake. Maybe if you just close your eyes…39

11:0740

Still awake. If occurs to you that neither your mother nor you knew exactly where your sister went. Oh well, she’ll be fine.41

Two hours pass by in silence. You’re finally able to go to sleep. Just when Non-REM sleep begins you hear the door slam. She’s home, finally. Voices carry in to your bedroom. You pray that a shouting match won’t start. Soft, sinister whispers slide over your limbs paralyzing your muscles. Forcing you to hear. Your twelve year old mind in unable to understand what its hearing.42

It’s the cold sweat that glues you to your mattress, as the news of your sister’s tardiness becomes clear.43

It’s the mind numbing confusing of not understand why, how, who…but feeling bile rise in your throat at the what.44

It’s the deafening thunder of blood pounding in your ears as the police try to console your grieving mother.45

It’s the painful lurch of you heart as it tries to force itself up through your windpipe when detailed descriptions of the dark ordeal are divulged.46

It’s the white-hot fury singing in your veins for the blood of them.47

It’s the eerie calmness in you pulse and breathing as you formulate what you’re going to do to THEM when they’re found.48

It’s the dull dead stop lurch of a car, when you find out they’re already in protective police custody.49

It’s the bitterness. The sweet bitterness of knowing exactly how you’d make them pay as you try to forget there’s nothing you could have done.50

4 yrs later………..51

But now, it’s the memory. Vacant and seemingly forgotten that boils underneath your skin when you’re slammed to the ground as déjà vu pins you to face reality.52

Now, it’s the rebuilding of that first thirst for revenge when you see a new target.53

Your mother’s voice is barely audible in your ears when you begin walking out of the dormitory doors. You can only see him. He, whose face bares the weight of so many devils. Blood trickles down into the creases of your fists from the pressure your nails have on then skin. As the sun’s rays delicately frame your face, a light epiphany calms you. You know what you have to do to erase everyone’s pain. He must pay. 54

“Yes, he must pay.” Your raspy throat rattles as anger replaces you rational.55

The sticky sweet smile sears your face just as a white befalls you.56

The Aftermath…57

I can’t tell you anymore than you can tell me what happened. Use your imagination. Dig deep into your emotions and just attempt to understand the guilt that you could live with by making a wrong decision based up your raging emotions. Imagine the metallic taste of foreign blood that stains you clothes and tongue as your mother tries to explain over your hurting sister’s wails that you put one of her attackers into the ER. Imagine the scary indifference you feel as an officer asks if you’ve ever had violent outburst in the past. What if you were told that with out permission from the schools dean, you couldn’t visit the college campus until your sister graduated? What if in that single white heated moment, you jeopardized your chances of being present at the attackers’ sentencing? What if you made a mistake? What if….What if you were me58