The Cirque du Soleil clown lookalike rapist

August 31, 2008 at 12:29 am 2 comments

This post is a fictional entry to Parenthesis’ Dazzle Me competition and should not be taken literally or figuratively.

The museum is buzzing. Artistic types wearing bohemian skirts, flowing shirts and beaded jewellery mumbling to each other in front of different art work pieces, old women in and out of the Mallacology section, young children screaming in and out of the Africa golden circle. I muse on how the lions grabbed their attention every time. I’ve wondered in the past why, they’re only stuffed animals after all. Their lifeless eyes do nothing for me, yet for the little ankle biters under a foot high, the stuffed lion captures their full attention.

Over the loud speakers I vaguely hear a name announced but I pay no attention to any of it, to the voice or the people around me – I hear all of it but it goes in the one ear and out of the other, not connecting at all with my conscious. I’m far too enraptured with what I see before me:

The eyes. They eyes foretell of a secret, a dirty one. His eyes, the man who raped me stands before me in the form of a picture hanging in the Natal Museum. It is not really him, naturally. But without the makeup and Cirque du Soleil hat and outfit, that face could belong to him. To Sarah’s Dad.

My best friend Sarah’s father was an eccentric man, he believed in star signs, tarot cards and fortune cookies. For hours on end he would muse over astrology and tell stories of gypsies and their kin. He would pick us up from school and drop us off at whichever venue we had chosen for the afternoon. He would cover for us when we came home late or snuck out of the house to go visit the boys across the street. We were fourteen and we could get away with murder when he was around, do anything we liked.

Sarah couldn’t understand why this was so, but she knew it was only when I was around. “He trusts you for some reason,” she said to me once. If she only knew the truth. The truth that involved him creeping into her room at night after we were asleep and the house was silent, whispering in a demanding voice that I follow him to the pool room.

Taking my reluctant hand until he would open the door, lead me to the pool table where he would bend me over, run his hands along my inner thighs and force himself inside me over and over again. I could smell him, feel him, hear him as he violated me, abused me, debased me with his actions every weekend for three years. It terrified me to think that by going to Sarah’s house it meant my body would have to succumb to this treatment, but it terrified me even more to not have a friend. Sarah was the only one who would talk to the nerd, the quiet girl, the girl who wore glasses and was too skinny.

I knew what Sarah’s dad was doing was wrong. I knew that I could have had him stopped. I knew that it was termed ‘rape’. But I also knew that every time I cried while he was grunting on top of me, he would threaten me with the chance I might never get to see Sarah again. That Sarah wouldn’t believe me. That I wouldn’t be allowed to spend time with her anymore. That, to me, was far worse.

A loud announcement brings me back to the museum. I stand here staring at this freaky picture in front of me thinking back to the days before Sarah decided that I wasn’t cool enough for her at school and stopped talking to me because her new friends wouldn’t invite me into the ‘cool’ circle. I realize for the first time how desperately sad and how dirty I feel that I had sacrificed my innocence, allowed someone to invade me in the most intimate and unwilling way for a friend who so shallowly and easily sacrificed our friendship.

“Listen to me and remember this,” he would say menacingly, out of breath, shoving his shirt back into the top of his pants after cleaning himself, and in his hippie way of speaking; “the guardians of the rainbow don’t like those who get in the way of the sun”.

Advertisements

Entry filed under: Uncategorized.

I went to buy milk and came back intoxicated at midnight Life’s waste

2 Comments Add your own

  • 1. Shebee steps up to the plate! « [Parenthesis]  |  August 31, 2008 at 12:52 am

    […] August 31, 2008 at 12:52 am (Bits ‘n bobs, Dazzle Me, Meme’s, Random, Why can’t I write like this?) Read it here. […]

    Reply
  • 2. SwissTwist  |  August 31, 2008 at 12:18 pm

    Beautiful and powerful, so well written!
    Well done!!

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Trackback this post  |  Subscribe to the comments via RSS Feed


Feeds

Just South Africa – Photo contest

Are you a photographer? Do you think you could stand a chance of winning? Why not try your luck, you've nothing to lose! I've been asked to be one of 5 judges in Just South Africa's photography contest. I hope to see your entries there!

Sadly, I've been told money, chocolates and free internet are not allowed to affect my judging unbiased opinion. You could try anyway though... Kidding. Relax.

Be part of the SheBee FB fan page

Brick of the moment:

Please applaud:

Mark from YellowLlama who is responsible for the design of my awesome new logo, which will soon be used in a much more flattering light, on a new work-in-progress page.

Huh? What page? There is no page, nevermind. You read nothing!

Thanks again Mark :)

Win a dodgy fruit basket! [Brick of the moment]

6000 | August 28, 2008 at 12:08 pm Peel A Keys is going to struggle to score with lines like that.

Recent wall talks

RSS Blog choice of the week – I am Janel


springleap

Trigger happy?

Are you a photographer? Do you think you could stand a chance of winning? Why not try your luck, you've nothing to lose! I've been asked to be one of 5 judges in Just South Africa's photography contest. I hope to see your entries there!

Sadly, I've been told money, chocolates and free internet are not allowed to affect my judging unbiased opinion. You could try anyway though... Kidding. Relax.


%d bloggers like this: