every rosebush has its thorns

loss of innocence

5/3/19
july 25th 2011, the date I've never mentioned, the story i have been too reluctant to tell.

it was her birthday party, her ninth birthday, sparkly dresses, the flame from the birthday candle sparkling in our wide eyes filled with wonder.

wrapping paper strewn around her hardcore floors, giggles filled the air, loud guitar ricocheted from the walls of her cousin's room.

we stayed up till twelve to wish her happy birthday on her REAL birthday, silent laughter clouded the small bedroom, we camped out on her bedroom floor, blankets in our laps, childhood naivety, innocent bliss.

her neighbor from down the street was there, she was older, mature, had stories, stories she said were for adults. the other girls seemed to be interested in the scandalous tales, my best friend and I busied ourselves with braiding each other's hair.

ginger fell asleep, we all sang happy birthday at 12, the lateness of the hour crept up to us, sleepiness engulfing us like a warm hug from mom. her neighbor suggested we play a game.

"play as grownups" she said, she locked the door, I will remember that click forever.

she instructed us to get on top of each other, told us how this grownup activity, she said this is what they did in Sex and the City.

my best friend and i weren't interested in playing this game, we went back to talking to each other.

this made me her angry, she yelled at me, told her that not playing her game had consequences.

she unlocked the door, lead me to the linen closet in the hallway, shoved me in, the darkness lapping at me from all sides, confusion settled in. I called out to her but she just closed the door.

a few seconds later, the door opened up again, but this time it was her cousin, 19, long greasy black hair, expressionless look on his face.

he closed in on me, puzzlement evident on my facial features, I backed myself into the wall of the closet, he just came closer.

vision blurred, his hands were on me, I didn't know what this was, I stood still in fear, blocked out the situation, after awhile, minutes, seconds, hours for all I know, he left.

i curled up in a ball. i tried to make myself forget.

5 years later, now thirteen, i thought back to that night as I fell onto the gravel of that parking lot. as his hands pushed me into the dirt, screaming his feral words, I cried and cried, I thought, "what is happening?" and then I thought to her ninth birthday, I thought, oh. that. but, somehow, this turned out to be so so so so so much worse.

i would endure a million closets in order to erase grey.