He is so, so serious as he watches her. She can't see it on his face, he looks relaxed if you weren't used to the tension, but in his eyes. Focused as he says, "I should have been your brother."
She stares up at him. "Then you wouldn't be able to kiss me." It's a statement, but it's actually a question. You wouldn't, right?
"I know," he answers. "In fact, I'd probably find you kind of icky. But I'd take care of you, because you'd be my baby sister."
And she covers her face and cries so hard that he becomes frantic, thinking he's said something wrong - when really it's just that she wants it so badly.
I wish that I were somehow strong enough to look you in the eyes and tell you everything he did to me. I want to be that girl. My life has been a ruin built on secrecy. I was the girl who would have sat on trial, if ever it had gotton so far, and lied. All I ever did was lie to protect people who won't even tell the truth to protect me. I wish I were strong enough to say the words. I wish I could convey the horror. I wish I could pretend that I felt like it was okay to feel this way, four and a half years later. I wish that there was an adult in my life, a family member, someone, who I would not feel guilty for telling. I feel absurd that the need to protect my family is so deeply ingrained in my mind that I try to justify him, vauge, offhand. "My brother and I fell out years ago. He started it, but I guess I never forgave him."
And they talk about forgiveness and sin and God and Christ, and I want to ask them, when is the last time they were ever sinned agianst like this? Had they ever been ruined? Where is the fairness that I am here, watching the sun rise through the window of my boyfriend's grandparents house, and I have not slept all night. Instead, I've been crying, because I am ashamed, because I feel ruined, because I feel like they are real people, normal people, untouched people like I never will be and will never have the right to me. Because of him. Because of him, and then, because of him, because of me. Who are all of them, to preach to me forgiveness. "What about Rape?" I ask, innocently. "Or murder. Is all that forgivable." And they say yes, and I want to laugh. Instead I smile politely. Either you have no idea what it's like, or you are a better person than I.
I want to validate myself. I just don't know if I'll ever be able to. If I'll ever feel like I belong...
Twisted Ballerina
by Jayne Sachs)
Little girl
Little twisted ballerina
Little steps
Little twisted ballerina pirouettes
across the floor
to the window where her
daddy watches from the corner of his eye
and her uncle watches her thighs
Little girl
Little twisted ballerina
Dance
Well her mom's at work down at the hospital today
and her daddy decides to cash his paycheck today
and her uncle says "Sure, I'll watch your ballerina... dance."
Well she's heard those words before
She's seen that look before
She's smelled his breath before
She's felt his weight on her before
This ballerina
And when her daddy leaves
and when they're alone he's says
"I just bought a ticket to your show."
Little girl
Little twisted ballerina
Dance
dance
Got to dance got to dance got to dance got to dance got to dance got to dance
Dance
And she dances out the bedroom
And she dances down the hall
And she dances down the steps
And out the front door
And she goes up to the clouds
that's where she find her stage
And she does the dance that's twice her age
How did he get here?
Who let him in up here?
Who let him in down there?
I was dancing here
I was dancing here
Little girl
Little twisted ballerina
Little steps
Little twisted ballerina pirouettes
Little twisted ballerina pirouettes
She feels the lapse in favor acutely, left alone in her bedroom as her father and her brother ride the two motorcycles next to eachother...
In a complete and shocking lapse of judgement on my part, I reached for a soda, and ended up spraying myself in the face with shaving cream...
Hah.....
Ten Top Trivia Tips about Rachel!
Over 46,000 pieces of Rachel float on every square mile of ocean!
There are roughly 10,000 man-made objects the size of Rachel orbiting the Earth.
There are more than two hundred different kinds of Rachel!
The word 'samba' means 'to rub Rachel'.
The only Englishman to become Rachel was Nicholas Breakspear, who was Rachel from 1154 to 1159.
Peanuts and Rachel are beans.
Native Americans never actually ate Rachel; killing such a timid prey was thought to indicate laziness!
There are 336 dimples on Rachel.
While performing her duties as queen, Cleopatra sometimes dressed up as Rachel.
Women shoplift four times more frequently than Rachel.
Dear Jerk-off who stole my purse,
I understand that you may be a meth addict, or someone with some other fixation which requires hefty sums to keep you feeling alive. This is the only reason I can see that you would steal my purse while I was still in the same room, and people were probably looking right at you. And for this, I hope my ninty dollars serve you well. I'm sure you'll use it for better things than I would have, like, for instance, my phone bill. And thank you for leaving my purse in a trash can somewhere for a janitor to find so he could return it to me - it would have been a shame to lose a beat up purse like that once you ravaged it of most of it's worth. I see that you did not take the grape flavored condom. I'm sorry if grape is not your flavor. Try next week, it'll be banana.
Oh, yeah. And fuck you.
Sincerely yours,
Rachel
Same old, same old. Sorry I've burdanded you. Sorry I'll never be able to fix it. Sorry you were my parents.
Growing to hate the word 'mutual'...
If you were gonna hate losing our relationship so much, maybe you shouldn't have fucked me in the first place, mm?
The swelling fermata...
He regrets it so very much. So very much...