It is God's will that you should be sanctified: that you should avoid sexual immorality; that each of you should learn to control his own body in a way that is holy and honorable, not in passionate lust like the heathen, who do not know God; and that in this matter no one should wrong his brother or take advantage of him. – 1 Thessalonians 4:1-8.
innocence and the heathen ---
I:in god we trust.
We were the boys who live for god, and did as he would please. We thought as he would please, and acted as he would please. This, all for a place in Heaven, our final resting place. Every day, we read The Bible, and every day, we prayed. The lot of us attended a sermon every morning and all of us went through confession. Whether it was under the hands of our Sisters or upon our own shoulders, I don't know. I know that we wanted a place to stay, so we did as they said. Someone new would come, and they would seem very different from the rest of us. In time, they would become the same. Through self-discipline, or discipline that our Sisters gave us, we stepped into His world and let Him into our hearts. I trusted Him once.
It was just as any other Sunday at Chaste Windam Memorial School. Fingers stretched away from each ray of sunlight that passed through the stained glass windows, reaching out at my eyelashes and teasing my frown into a smile. The boys were enduring, with gazes aimed at the pews where Pastor Abbott stood tall, maneuvering slight gestures as he spoke. Among the isle sat rows of smooth, wooden benches, occupied by every boy attending the school, and several members of the staff. Through the platinum windowpanes, the fields were visible, though tainted by every quarter of stained glass on the windows. All was peaceful but my mind. Inside my mind, there was one question laced with another, and another, until a web was formed that continued to spin. Unless the questions ceased, the web would not, and my thoughts soon became that of a labyrinth. The flowers, however, kept on withering. Every plant appeared to be crawling back into a hiding place for the fall, and I longed to go with them. If I could sleep for as long as I wanted in a bed of flowers and birds undisturbed, I would never wake up again.
If I could sleep for as long as I wanted without being disturbed, I would never be afraid of my bed again. I wouldn't have to see his grin from underneath my eyelids, or underneath the covers.
We didn't look at each other the first time he entered my room. He came so quietly that it hadn't woken me up, but when there were lips on mine, I cringed. I didn't move. He held my wrists. He used to be rough on my mouth, so I never did know it was him. He was rough with me even after I found out it was him. We stopped talking, but his eyes always watched me. He was obsessed, and he would never close his eyes to me again. The power he had over me was power he would not soon regain, and he kept it within his reach every night at 2AM, when the hall guards weren't quite in the West Wing, but not quite in the East…just enough to get him through from his room to mine.
You're touching me. You're touching me. You're touching me somewhere you shouldn't be. Your hand is over my mouth, the blanket over my eyes. Pull it away, because I can't see the evil hiding behind the covers. You're my culprit, so show yourself. You're inside me, killing me, injuring me, but it feels familiar. I've never felt this before, but everything is similar to your touch. Your touch was never brutal, but now you've slain me. What do you have to say for yourself? You, who won't even show your face. A hand slides away from my mouth and I look to my side, rain blurring my eyes. Raindrops down my face. Why do you want to hurt me? Did I do something wrong? I've never tried to hurt anyone…especially not you. Oh, I must've done something…I'm so…stupid. Such a fool. I'm flawed, and I'm naked, and you're hurting me because of it. You're stealing my vulnerability and raping it, because I've been such a fool.
His presence leaves my insides, and he smears his fluids against my body, his teeth scratching against my neck. His fists bruise my eyes and my body, pounding against me. I can do nothing, because I am nothing but stupid. I'm stupid. This is why you're hurting me. Keep doing it, because if God is making this happen, then maybe I deserve it. God, if this is wrong, help me. If this is right, let me hurt. I'll endure your pain as long as I am alive, if it is what I deserve. You decide what happens to me. I've always believed you would keep me safe, and if this is safe, you're taking care of me. I'm so…sorry.