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Brought into the room, she did not fight,
blinded by the darkness of night.
Surrounded by evil, she did not scream,
her thoughts flew wild, they worked as a team.
No, no, her arms would not obey,
completely helpless, abandoned she lay.
Awaking next, bare on the rocky ground,
buried in his chest, crying without a sound;
the rocks cut deep into her frail skin.
Thinking hard, how did this begin?
Jerking up, finally he was done,
still yet, her nightmare had only begun.
Pushed upon the porcelain stand,
balanced only by her unsteady hand,
"Who was this?" The faucet hurt so bad.
He too wanted what she had.
The door slid open, evil wanted to see.
The power he saw, overwhelmed by envy.
Thrown from the sink, to the cold floor,
finished with her, he'd completed his score.
Envious, the door opened again.
Oh why couldn't this dream just end?
Slowly she spoke her first weakened words,
"Who are you," is what his ears heard.
"Delerosa" Oh please, please go away.
How will she survive this horrid, rotten day?
She pushed and she pulled, but all was in vein,
all of her body was crippled by the pain.
Unable to bare it, she fell into a comforting sleep.
How was she alive, her wounds were too deep?
Each hour but a moment, the lights flash off and on,
continuing until finally she sees the light of dawn.
A woman's voice called out, the hour was now six.
Evil was now satisfied with its lasting fix.
Curled up in a ball, pushing another from her,
alone in her mind, not one thought she dared stir.
Exhausted from her night, unable to make it home,
she collapsed once again, all heard her painful groan.
The hour now eleven, she awoke covered in mustard.
Slowly she stumbled away, her mind torn and flustered.
Stepping into her doorway, finally feeling safe,
she bathed, unwilling to remember her rape.
Unsteady she lied down, welcoming a dream world.
Shaking beneath the blankets, tightly she curled.
Her father's voice and questioning eyes cut deep.
He left her alone, reminding how she was cheap.
Suddenly feeling sick, her thoughts in a jumble,
tears flooded freely, her heart a deafening rumble.
Her body ached, but worse than the pain,
her soul had died, soaked in a blood stain.
A day passed by, and feeling overwhelmed,
she shared with her "friends" what had happened.
Slapped across the face, pushed to the ground,
"A liar and a whore, you should be drowned."
Sobbing uncontrollably, to her sister she ran.
Arms stretched wide, together they made a stand.
Detectives and police, how she hated this.
Hospitals and doctors, oh what a horrible mess.
Attorney's and coordinators, all on her side.
Lawyer's and specialists, was she really on this ride?
Followed by her enemy, she dodged using wit.
Crazy and alone, unable to control each fit.
How could one night be dragged out for so long?
How could a whole town be so evil and wrong?
Facing the leader upon the witness stand,
her story she unfolded, seeming long and grand.
Nervously she waited for her verdict to come.
Everyone sat quiet, twiddling an anxious thumb.
The judge walked in, paper in his hand,
"The man is undoubtedly guilty," his words sounded grand.
Fort-six years he'd be locked behind bars.
She had won, her vision blurred with stars.
On that day, she put her pain to rest.
Standing strong, she had passed the test.
- How to Respond to a Survivor | RAINN
Someone you care about had the courage to tell you what happened. How you react can have a big impact on their recovery.