Years before that courtroom, perhaps when I am sixteen or seventeen and Brenda two years younger, the years hazy from our timeless way of life, Brenda ostensibly broke our silence about our father’s sexual assault of us.
Say Something: Pt 6 The Worth of Being Separate—She tended to say things for effect, so I didn’t enter the conversation, but my sister indicated she knew what Nina was talking about.
I remember this time when I was in grade school when I had one of my first couple of what I today call my grey dreams. I usually dream in color but sometimes I have these terrible dreams that are all in shades of grey and the night.
My father could raise his voice when he was angry or lecturing but he also knew how to whisper so quietly and secretly to me that no one in the room knew the terrible things he spoke to me.
Say Something: Pt 3 The Worth of Voice—Suddenly, I turn, back to the door. I have never felt so alone and helpless or that the world is so large and scary. For the first time, I see this huge world beyond my family. It isn’t safe.
Say Something: Pt 2 The Worth of Me—Before I can turn to see it coming, he whipped that thing against my legs. I am ashamed of the tears streaming down my face, as I walk away, back straight, without sound, and they continue to marvel that the red stripes disappeared so quickly.
Say Something Pt 1: The Worth of Rape—I just want to get out of this dark room into daylight and away from everything that courtroom represents.