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Diary of A Butterfly with A Damaged Wing who Found the Strength to Fly Again

Clarissa Tejada


I have heard of things like this happening in movies, on TV shows, on the news to other people. What I never would have guessed was that it would happen to someone like me. I mean, I do not even know how to act or how to feel. Every time I close my eyes it is like I’m experiencing it all over again. I hear his voice. I feel his touch, his grasp on my neck, my legs, and my arms. I feel his sweat dripping on my body. I hear my screams echo. I hear myself crying. I hear myself telling him "Mr. Dawson please stop!!" I still feel like I’m there. I feel the way he forcefully pressed his lips on mine, the way he held my face in place and wiped my tears, the way he covered my mouth. I feel the way he entered me, the way he smacked me, the way he kissed and caressed my body. I still hear him, "It's going to be okay, you're going to like it I promise, it only hurts when it goes in. Shut up. Stop crying. Everyone wishes they could do this with me."


Rape; Sexual Violence; College; Millennials

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ProudFlesh: New Afrikan Journal of Culture, Politics and Consciousness. ISSN: 1543-0855 (online).
Editor: Dr. Darlene V. Russell.

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