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What Would've Happened?

Contributed by Goldenpoet820 on Friday, 21st May 2010 @ 09:20:18 PM in AEST
Topic: StoryPoetry

I often wonder what would've happened if I'd stood up to you
If I hadn't given in.
If fear hadn't paralyzed me to the point where I couldn't remember how to think, let alone move.
People tell me that fear is an illusion, a perception.
But some things in this world are worthy of fear, for better or worse.
You left me feeling dirty
So I tried to wash the remnants from my body.
Tried to erase the bruises and the scratch marks
But the bruises remained as souveniers reminding me of what I had been to weak to end.
Fear floods my every vein when I turn the corner and see you waiting for me.
The same fear that renders me incapable of sound or movement
When you sit in the seat next to me, terror clouding any hint of rational judgement.
I sit rigid as your hand moves toward my thigh;
You chose your setting well; a place where all I could do was hope, where running would cause attention, and where screaming was out of the question.
My psyhce screams in my head, telling me to run and forget the consequences.
But my body would not move: fear of your actions blot out all other thought as I'm forced to wonder how far he'll take things.
Was no place sacred? Not to him.
He knew where I lived, what classes I took and where I spent my time.
All I could do was cross my heart and hope for a way out.
But like every other door in my life, this one closed, too, leaving me trapped in a nightmare, praying for someone to notice the bruises.
But no one did.
I was left alone in a room, in the dark, with a man I did not know, and a fate I could not escape.

Copyright Â© Goldenpoet820 ... [ 2010-05-21 21:20:18]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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