.why was she left alone?where was her mother? What an irresponsible generation of mothers! Why didn’t she scream? Why wasn’t she outside playing with her friends?Then in hushed tones as if treading on dangerous ground;this is wrong! That man is an animal! We should seize him right away said another one in mixture of anger and shock. ..who did this to you? Asks a voice. She didn’t turn. She didn’t talk . Her silk white dress soiled with blood at the back like a seal to the damage done on her. The wall before her is the only face she can trust. No voice is familiar enough to snap her out of trance. Her vision clouded with tears streaming from her eyes unwillingly. Her teddy bear drops slowly from her hands. She can’t bend down to get it. Her lower abdomen is numb. She stands still. Stiff.

Consent is beautiful. More than just agreeing to get laid, the positions worth a try, worth the moment and the mood. Consent matches the energy and makes it fun. Let’s at least agree that rape should therefore not be forgiven. No blames,just condemn. Cici said her scars are beauty marks to Russell. Scars left by sexual molestation never heal. The wounds don’t dry and from which ever the angle the stench is always present. Children watch certain cartoons over and over. When terrifying scenes come to the screens,they might be seeing it for the tenth over time. But they’ll still feel a chill,close their eyes maybe,hold tightly onto someone they trust. This danger is familiar but fun is the fact that it ends happy or ends anyway,doesn’t last forever. Rape isn’t familiar. Let’s speak against it the loudest we can and save our kids and the future from sex predators.

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