June 7, 2016

A mother asked her daughter to forgive her perpetrator.

you say forgive him like you’re telling me to change my shoes or something.

you say forgive the man who raped me when i was 5-years-old. that i should forgive him for myself, not for him. as if this was some magical act that would heal that little girl and erase the memory of the pain between her tiny skinny legs.

you say forgive him because god has forgiven me.

Lady there is no fucking way in hell that i would even consider it so much as a thought.

there is no God in rape.

there is no God in taking your dick and forcing your way into a 5-year-old’s body.

No. no Lady. i will not forgive him now or ever. he doesn’t deserve forgiveness.

i will tell you that every time i read another rape headline, i wish i could be the person to carry out the punishment.

i will tell you that i watched that Scandal scene where Olivia Pope kills her perpetrator over and over and over. and i was scared at how good i felt after watching it.

i have imagined me, a wooden bat and Fran in a room many times. except i didn’t kill him. death is easy. i want that cabrón conscious. fully awake for what i’d like to do to him.

God made a mistake. God has made many mistakes. he was one of them. the four men who raped you, they were a mistake as well. and so is every single rapist. mistakes made by your god. mistakes disguised as, “oh look at how much stronger you are. you survived.”

you have no idea how fucking difficult this is. you say you do, but you don’t.

you don’t know what it’s like in this head or how heavy is this heart. you don’t know the years of therapy i’ve got sitting on that couch trying to make sense of senseless, fucked up, shit.

thirty-three years ago Fran decided it was ok for them to rob me of my innocence. and not ONE FUCKING day has gone by that i don’t think about it. thirty-three years. and every day the headlines rape me all over again. every day this world reminds me of the fear that little girl felt that day and so many other days after that… i carry that shit in  my heart, so heavy at times i get chest pains. and anger sits on my throat.

so no. no Lady. i will NOT forgive him. if your god wants to take on that bullshit, he can.

blasphemy is the only unforgivable sin?

you mean to tell me your god is more concerned about how i speak about him than about one of “his creations” raping a 5-year-old?

no. i’m all set Lady. but you… you figure out a way to forgive yourself for asking your daughter to forgive that fuck face when neither you nor your god, were there to protect her.

2 Responses to “No.”

  1. Nia Ita Says:

    Damn … so powerful sis. Thank you for your honesty and courage.

    I love the concept of you writing in lower case letters because you want your words to speak softly. I often find myself stylistically attracted to all lower case for certain things (particularly poetry), but never thought about why.

    I did notice that God was capitalized in some places, but not in others. It seemed like it was lower case when you referred to your mom’s god. Was that intentional? Just curious.

    Can’t wait to read your essays this year!

    • Sarahí Says:

      thanks for the feedback Mujer!
      i cap very few words but in this instance it was exactly what you thought it was.
      i look forward to sharing this journey with you.

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