The Good Life – trois

She thinks was three the first time she was abused…she may have been older and she may have been younger but it’s all part of the fight.

She didn’t remember it until she was 13 years old, and she didn’t tell until she was 16, but it happened none the less. And now no one but her remembers being told or doing the telling….but it happened none the less.

By the time the girl was three the little family lived in a huge house with a big yard and lots of neighbours. The house had a big veranda and a large back porch. It had a huge yard and flowers in the garden to keep the mommy happy. I had a big tree for forts in the back yard…but better yet the whole back of the lot was surrounded by plum trees and an old cedar hedge that was perfect for hiding in. It even had a side door that let to the butler’s pantry and shutters for the windows. When the storms came the mother would get the little girl out of bed to sit in the window seat with her and watch the lightening. The mother’s friends called it “Perth’s Favorite Coffee House”.

When the mother and the father went out together they usually left via the front door. The baby-sitter would let her boyfriend in one of the other doors.

The boyfriend was a biker and he had a big knife. Any knife was big to the little girl’s eye.

While the baby-sitter went upstairs and woke the girl up to bring her downstairs, the boyfriend would pull down all the window blinds in the house…all except the one right over the couch.

And when the baby-sitter brought the girl to the living room the biker boyfriend made the little girl stand on the coffee table and keep watch out the crack in the window blind over the couch…so he and the baby-sitter could do things on the couch and not get caught. When she cried he held a knife to the little girl’s throat and told her that he would kill her mommy and daddy if she ever told. So she decided to be as strong and strong could be and save her mommy and daddy’s life. And she didn’t cry again.

And she didn’t tell anyone for more than 10 years, but by that time the dye was set. She didn’t even tell when the biker boyfriend did the same things to her that he did to the babysitter…and that made the baby-sitter cry.

The baby-sitter was not anywhere near as strong as the little girl was and that made the little girl proud cause she was fighting the good fight