AN ENEMY OF MY ENEMY...

Looking up she sees,

A pale blue light.

Like one of those,

Cold evening skies,
She was used to seeing.

She breathed in.

Lips quivering with relief.

Her feet were chipped,

Obviously.

What with all the running,

She’d been doing.

Her eyes were sore too,

The sting of a tear,

I hear,

Burns its way through.

As she let the air,

Flow through her,

It hit her.

She was no longer prisoner,

She was free.

The last time,

She’d stood on that path,

She’d met him.

Hailed him down actually.

 You see , she was eleven

So any guy,

On a bike,

To her,

Could give her a service,

Get her home safe.

So she felt alright,

About getting onto his bike,

And holding on tight.

And true enough,

She was fine.

At least up until,

She realized,

She couldn’t recognize,

Anything around her.

The bike then moving too fast,

For her to jump,

She was stuck.

He drove fast,

And pulled up beside,

A small make shift home.

Like one of those,

Temporary houses,

Put up when you,

Not trying to stay for too long.

He carried her in,

One hand on her mouth,

The other holding her legs.

She bit him.

It felt good.
She was trying her hardest.

Soon...,sadly,

She’d regret that move.

The inside was simple.

The bed alone filled up,

More space than you would think.

He put her on the ground,

Took some rope from under the bed,

And tied her up.

First her wrists,

Then her feet.

This wasn’t easy at first,

Considering her kicking and fighting.

But one smack across her face,

Put her straight to sleep.

Improving his working conditions,

Towards the end.

Or was it the beginning,

Of her affliction.

It was dark and quiet outside,

So it was probably a good thing,

That baby girl was still passed out,

When he was her having his way with her.

No regard for the blood,

From his hand and her.

Like a predator,

Enjoying his evening catch.

He went on unbothered,

Unencumbered.

Happy even.

When he was done,

He cleaned up,

Got in bed,

And slumbered.

Leaving her open,

On the floor,

As she was.

In the morning,

He got ready.

Tied her feet again,

Checked her wrists,

Then left for work.

Satisfied she was secure.

She came to,

From the movement,

Around her feet,
Took a minute,
To recover.

Then she felt it.

Pain..,shame..,guilt,

all at once.

He was gone,

But she couldn’t stop crying.

She hated herself for it,

How could she let this happen?

How stupid could she be.

She lay there,

In a bright red pool of blood,

And cried herself back to sleep.

The little boy,

Was only seven.

But even he knew,

What his big brother could do

He stood at the front door,

Of the main house,

And watched him leave.

He then waited an hour or so,

Before taking action.

Silently,

He ran to hs brother’s window,

and saw her.

He wondered if she was dead already.

He wouldn’t be surprised,

He knew his brother.

He’d seen this before

There had been many.

The knocking on the window,

Woke her up.

He was relieved she was alive,

And that the window,

Was big enough,

For him to fit through.

Her wrists were bleeding now,
From the rope tied way too tight.

So gently,

He set her loose.

Held her straight,

Got her out of the house,

And urged her to go home.

Baby girl however,

Wouldn’t budge,

Insisting on cleaning herself up first,

Or face her mother’s lash.

When that was done,

He showed her the path,

And she was on her way.

Swearing never to disclose to anyone,

The happenings of that day.

She couldn’t imagine people knowing,

And judging her for it.

She was glad she was alive,

But she wanted to choose,

How she would live.

Of course,

You could argue,

She was too young,

To make these types of choices.

And true enough, she was.

But this much was true,

She would not,

Be seen,

As the dumb victim,

By anyone she knew.



(Inspired by real events)