Beautiful Sunsets

by: Tori

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You know that song, I Hate Everything About You? For some reason childhood abuse and rape makes one hate everything about themselves.

I hate me. I hate me. I hate me.

I am told by others that I am intelligent, strong, beautiful, a wonderful mom, saint like in the love I can show others. It is not that I do not believe them. If I could see myself through their eyes I would most likely agree. But I don’t see me through their eyes.

I look at pictures of myself as a teen. I see this stunning, beautiful girl who is a fucking knock-out. That is me. But I thought I was ugly then. I hated myself.

I hate that I got pregnant by a man I did not love. I hate that I only have parts of my memories. I hate that I care too much for other people. I hate that I do not care about me. I hate that I am a target for people to rape or mistreat. I hate everything about me.

I have pictures of me when I was 17 and in Hawaii. There was an older man who took an interest in me. He was so handsome. He was Australian. He was fun. We walked. He held my hand. He sang songs to me. He played rugby. He had longish, curlyish, dirty blond hair. He had nice, playful gentle eyes. He had an open, strong smile. We went to meet his friends by the pool. They were nice and fun. We laughed.

He raped me.

He wanted to show me a really pretty beach that was nearby. I said no. He said it was so beautiful and I would love it. He said we will watch the sunset together. I said no. He said it won’t take long. I said let me go change out of my bathing suit. He said no it won’t take long. This beach is real close. He said he had to go meet his rugby team for a game. There was no time for me to change. Let’s just watch the sunset together before it is too late.

He took me to a parking lot behind an ugly building. I asked where the beach was. He said it is on the other side of the building. It did not make sense. I am scared. I am in his car. I am in my bikini. I am alone with him. There is no beautiful beach. There is no sunset. I do not know how to get back to my hotel. His beautiful eyes and smile are gone.

He pulls me on his lap. I say no and try to make him stop. I am thin and little. He is big. He puts me on his lap, facing him. I am light. He lifts me easily. He pushes my bikini bottoms aside. I feel his dick in me. I look into his face. His eyes are evil. His smile is a snarl. He is scary. He is the devil. I freeze. I can not move. He moves my body up and down with his hands. His hands are on my waist. I am so small. I feel him moving me. I feel his body moving. But I am numb. I don’t feel him inside me anymore. I am numb. I can’t take my eyes off his face. I am frozen. I do not blink. I watch him cum. I watch his face twist and contort in pleasure. The pleasure of evil. He gives me a very satisfied smile when he is finished.

I wonder if he is going to kill me now that he is done. Will my body be found in a parking lot behind an ugly building? He doesn’t kill me. He drives me back to my hotel. He says he will call me. I say nothing.

I get gin and drink.

I HATE ME! Why did God make me?