Page 64 - GRANADA
P. 64

 62world to crush me. I took a chance with a blue-eyed boy I met on a sober day. His presence fed the awakening erupting at my core.
Don’t talk to him.
A thread loosened as we kissed through a month of weekends. I brushed it aside until there was another. The whole tapestry of us hanged ragged on the wall. My grandmother taught me to cut loose threads. That minimized the damage, she said. But these, I wanted them to show me the foul pattern that made them. I pulled each thread and unspooled the truth. I had failed the first lesson.
My girls are not victims!
I confronted this blue-eyed boy about his lies. He pushed me down and stripped me. My power. My clothes. I laid frozen in the dirt, staring upward for the will to move. Lessons whispered to me from the velvet sky swallowing my naked body. The second lesson winked from the heavens, brighter than the morning star.
Just stay alive, goddammit!
Daddy’s words chased me in the aftermath. They filled my lungs like cement until I choked. They battled the imprint of this boy’s hands on my thighs, his body forcing itself against mine. Clawing and hungering. They were eager to rip me apart for my sin.

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