What
I See
by
R.T, Ottawa, Canada, Age 14
I look
into your eyes, and do you know what I see?
I see
a little girl, smiling and laughing with delight as the man who
has fooled her into believing he's her father lifts her up to his
shoulders and carries her around. Poor little girl; she doesn't
know, she doesn't know.
I see
her, a little taller, standing confused before a different man as
her mother introduces him.
'Meet your Daddy.'
She doesn't understand, she doesn't understand.
I see
her try to comfort her crying mother when this new father - the
real father - abandons them, but she can't even comprehend what's
happened. And just as she begins to grasp the truth, it's snatched
away from her childish fingers and the first father she knew steps
in again. What should she believe? What should she believe?
And
then she's sitting with her sister and brother, listening to the
fierce arguing coming from the only other room. Angry words, pleading
sobs. She jokes about it later, to boast a happy face, but she prays
for an end. Why won't it end?
And
then she's older. And she's pinned under her brother's weight, under
her own flesh and blood. Pinned as his hands explore the body that
even she doesn't know yet. Under her clothes, under her skin. And
she's paralyzed with insecurity as she screws her eyes tightly shut.
This shouldn't be happening, it can't be happening.
And
four years later, she collapses by a tree, weary of running from
a past she can't escape. Blurred sight rendered useless, she gropes
along the ground until she finds what she's been longing. And picking
up the dirty shard of broken beer glass, she slashes at her skin,
over and over, and watches, silently, with twisted relief, as life
slowly ebbs out of her
veins...
And
then suddenly, you're there, crying, ripping the glass away from
her hands, and you fall down beside her and ask her why. And the
tears she's been holding back for so long finally come streaming
out as she crumbles into your loving arms. And you hold her close
and tight and tell her how much you love her, and she understands.
She finally understands.
Looking
into your eyes, I see myself reflected, and everything about my
past has shaped who I am now. The horrors are as vivid as the moment
they happened, but I see something else there as well. I see you.
Searching
in your eyes, I find my strength and inspiration. Just looking,
I see the reason I'm alive.
