Braided

Ninth Day of Highschool

Dear Diary,

I am sorry I have been ignoring you, now I will catch you up on things. I found out that if you go to a club in the morning you don't have to go to your homeroom. So I went to that club this morning and I heard this girl named Katie's testimony. This girl Katie told us about how she grew up in an abusive home. Her mother had an obsession with pretending everything was fine and she covered up the things her uncle used to do to her. They are too disgusting to write about. Eventually, she moved in with her grandma after praying to Jesus to take her out of that house. If her prayer was answered then maybe mine will be too. What courage she had doing that. I think that maybe one day I will tell my story but I can't find the words to say. I think I'm going to write it down here.  Diary I hope you don't mind the tear stains I'm about to leave.on you.

I hope once I tell you, you will understand why it was just another day at camp. It felt a little off to me like something was wrong but I quickly brushed that off. I put my hair into my braid and went off for the day. I met Sophie at the dining hall for dinner. She was usually up earlier then I was and always half done with her food by the time I got my food and sat down. That day it was bacon and grits I can't believe I can still remember what I ate. It's like the little details are sometimes what sticks out more about that day if the details would have changed would that day have ended the same.

While sitting down and eating my food I looked down at my phone and saw a text from him. It said he wanted to hang out with me just me. I remember being so excited thinking maybe this was my first date... maybe this was my first date maybe he would be my first boyfriend. How naive I was how this could have been avoided. I didn't tell Sophie because I didn't want her to be mad. It was so hard to keep my excitement in and the hours of mundane camp games dragged on and on as the sunset I started to get ready I put on a tank top and a pair of jean shorts maybe if I would have worn something else he would have saw me in a different way I redid my braid and put on a little mascara then headed out.

When I met him by the rocks he had laid out a blanket and two pillows we sat down for a little bit and then we split a couple of beers. I felt more light-headed than usual. I had never had this much drink before he looked into my eyes and kissed me the smell of beer now made more pungent and the taste of it on my lips. I felt too light-headed to keep going but he pulled me by my braid on to the ground. He asked me if I wanted to mess around. I was way too tired for that and I told him "not tonight" but he kept insisting that he would make me more tired. He started to pull down my pants and I said "not tonight!" he then put it near my mouth. He told me to open my mouth and then I took it out or I moved my head. I told him I was tired. I clamped my lips closed and he pushed it against my mouth. I opened. I gagged. He stopped. He left. He told me I should open my mouth more and he liked the way I wore my head. I had never done anything like that before in my life...

I remember jumping into the water trying to wash it away. Trying to make it tangible that feeling of drowning the water was dark and murky and I realized the air in my lungs slowly sinking deeper and deeper into the abyss I crawled out with no towel out of the water.
As I was walking back I found a pocket knife in the community bathroom, picked it up and opened the door. I looked in the mirror then saw the black mascara dripping down my face. I looked like a wet dog. At that moment I took my braid in one hand and hacked it off with the knife. He said I should open my mouth more but that was the day I stopped talking. I am definitely not telling that to my therapist's teeth. That night I stared at the stares through the crack about my bed. That night they stopped shining as bright.