10 min read

property

red and pink painted lines zig zag across a cement wall
red and pink painted lines zig zag across a wall

[content warning: violence, physical abuse, sexual assault, misogyny, racism, LGBTQIA2S+ discrimination]

What happens in one of those nice little houses? The clean ones with minimal furniture. The ones in the quiet neighborhoods without a lot of through traffic. The neighborhoods with tall trees and cul-de-sacs where children can play on the street. No sirens there, only birdsong. Deer, rabbits and birdsong. Flowering shrubs and privacy hedges along with the fact that that every single house was set at such an angle such that no one can look directly into another's property. Nice neighborhood, I guess. It seems nice without knowing what people get up to in there. Where the money comes from. Where limits of property lie. 

I don't know why I was there, I just woke up there. Maybe I'd been there the whole time without noticing and then consciousness arrived all at once. I looked around not recognizing the place, but very familiar with the people: grandmothers, aunts, cousins. We're not in resonance, but we are related. If they're here, this place must be familiar. I guess I do what they do, what they tell me to and that's how I survive. That's how it's been. We were supposed to keep each other safe. That's why when people say that, there's a pulling sensation, a kind of contraction where the heart should be. I wished it was true so badly, I wanted to believe in care and protection, that's why I talk about it so much. I'll repeat it until the end of time, every other word is about helping other people, looking out for other people, being patient and supportive, strong in others' defense. It's what I wished would have happened for myself, for all of us. No one wants to hear another victim story, I know. Believe me when I say I don't want to tell one.

Maybe that's not what was happening, not really. Is victimization in the eye of the beholder? Does it depend on the stories we tell ourselves? But children though. We were vulnerable and dependent on others for support. We were children. We deserved protection. We all deserve safety from harm. 

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