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literature
Shame on Me
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Literature Text
Papa once said:
Good girls don't talk to strangers.
Good girls don't accept candy from unknown people.
Good girls don't follow anyone unfamiliar.
Good girls don't use small clothes.
Good girls don't speak vulgar words.
Good girls don't act easy in front of guys.
Good girls don't walk around at night.
Good girls don't do. Girls don't do. Don't do. Do.
Good girls are the one good guys marry. While bad girls are the one guys have a one night thing.
Good girls are pure and innocent when dressed in a white bribe's dress. While bad girls were never pure or innocent.
Good girls are good and respected. While bad girls don't respect others or themselves.
I am not a bad girl, papa. Then why? Why did it happen?
I didn't talk to strangers. I didn't accept anything from an unknown person. I didn't follow an unfamiliar face. I didn't use small clothes. I didn't speak vulgar words. I didn't act easy, or walked around alone.
He was a friend of the family, always kindly smiling. He invited me numerous times to his house. He knew me. I knew him. Then how?
I cry and the tears don't stop. I pray and my fears don't disappear. I don't want to remember and the memory just stays vivid. I feel like dying, but he didn't kill me, not entirely. Only that part which believed in so many things. In people, in life, in goodness, in God.
I guess, in the end, I must have not done something good girls do. I must have been a bad girl. I still see the blood and sense the pain, as I see the blood and sense the pain now on my red pulse. I feel ashamed. Ashamed of myself.
Good girls don't talk to strangers.
Good girls don't accept candy from unknown people.
Good girls don't follow anyone unfamiliar.
Good girls don't use small clothes.
Good girls don't speak vulgar words.
Good girls don't act easy in front of guys.
Good girls don't walk around at night.
Good girls don't do. Girls don't do. Don't do. Do.
Good girls are the one good guys marry. While bad girls are the one guys have a one night thing.
Good girls are pure and innocent when dressed in a white bribe's dress. While bad girls were never pure or innocent.
Good girls are good and respected. While bad girls don't respect others or themselves.
I am not a bad girl, papa. Then why? Why did it happen?
I didn't talk to strangers. I didn't accept anything from an unknown person. I didn't follow an unfamiliar face. I didn't use small clothes. I didn't speak vulgar words. I didn't act easy, or walked around alone.
He was a friend of the family, always kindly smiling. He invited me numerous times to his house. He knew me. I knew him. Then how?
I cry and the tears don't stop. I pray and my fears don't disappear. I don't want to remember and the memory just stays vivid. I feel like dying, but he didn't kill me, not entirely. Only that part which believed in so many things. In people, in life, in goodness, in God.
I guess, in the end, I must have not done something good girls do. I must have been a bad girl. I still see the blood and sense the pain, as I see the blood and sense the pain now on my red pulse. I feel ashamed. Ashamed of myself.
So, that is actually a bit old, like a few months. Anyway, I remember reading a newspaper article (plus the stupid commentaries) about rape and then writing this, 'cus I just hate sexism and the fact that the victims blame themselves for some jerk's actions (just as much as the other jerks assume the victim was some sort of whore that cause it on her, just so you know, even a whore shouldn't ever be treated like that, they ARE people). And just in case someone assume I based it on a real life experience: no, I was never raped; nor I have a father to tell me this type of bullshit. People don't need to know what it feels like to defend or go against something.
© 2014 - 2024 Shiroikodoku
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