Some smells are
etched in the mind
like
sweat mingled
with IHOP
pancake mix,
or the ick
after the kiss
when
I spat out some corn
from his teeth.
He said it was his
first
time
too.
I was sixteen then.
He was
twenty-two.
My window latch
wouldn’t stay shut.
I
didn’t say
yes.
But like a greedy,
hungry man at an
all-you-can-eat buffet,
he took handfuls,
and I
lay flat,
like a table should,
and closed my eyes
and gripped my sheets because
even a table, if proper,
needs cloth—
otherwise it gets stained,
sold for cheap.
I cried.
He said sorry
until the next week.
And after he loved me again,
I felt sick.
I say
I forgive him.
It’s been sixteen years.
I wonder where he’s at
and if he
hates
tablecloths
still.
About the Creator
Mezmur
Rooted in Christian faith yet unafraid of human fragility, Mezmur writes as both survivor and worshipper. Her work invites readers to breathe again, to see that even in the deepest silence, Love remains.
The Guardian Chapter V
Alexander left his Coming of Age ceremony with Cronos and the elders with as many new questions as he had answers for his old questions. Cronos had confirmed his suspicions were correct. Not only was there a link between the Beast Masters and the inhabitants of the Citadel, but it was the Citadel's fault that the Beast Masters existed in the first place. Instead of banishing the law breakers which allowed them to wreak havoc on the rest of humanity, the Citadel elders should have stripped them of their powers before they became too strong. Now Alexander would need to battle the Beast Masters and the Jikininki. It would be difficult for him to forgive the Citadel Elders because their poor decisions led to the deaths of his parents and more than half the planet's human population.
By Mark Gagnon7 days ago in Chapters
Comments (1)
This is heartbreaking! I’m really sorry that happened to you. Sixteen and twenty-two is not equal ground. The way you write it — “I didn’t say yes” says everything. The fact that you can write this now—boldly, without hiding —tells me you’re not the table anymore. You’re the one telling the story. And that matters. ❤️