captivatingbitter

  It is a cool evening.  There is a nice breeze billowing the curtains in through the sliding glass door.  I am sitting on my uncle’s lap.  My cousins are getting their baths and getting ready for bed.  My aunt is in the kitchen washing dishes, I can hear the clink of plates and glasses against the metal sink through the doorway behind me.  The armchair we are in is near a fireplace and there is a flickering light… like a lantern… somewhere close by.  My uncle’s hands are rough and callused and his face needs a shave.  He gestures constantly when he talks, like a magician distracting you at the crucial moment of his act.  He is talking about God… preaching more than talking, really.  There is gospel music playing on an old-fashioned looking radio near by.  With one hand he is gesturing while with the other he molests me.  I feel his rough hands on my soft thighs and I feel the pain of his penetration while I disappear into the light of the flickering lantern.  I stay there until it is all over.  I have no words for this… only pain and despair and embarassment.  I feel dirty and wrong and confused.  I forget it as soon as it happens and for years to come will remember only the light and a feeling of disgust.