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TRIGGER WARNING

(explicit reference to violent misogyny and abuse)

Voiceless - Narratives of Misogyny

I wanted to yell, but I couldn’t.
I froze – Why did I freeze?

When he called me simplistic...
This is what happens when little girls are bad.

When he said, “I think what she is trying to say”...
This is what happens when little girls are bad.
When he called me hysterical...
This is what happens when little girls are bad.
When he said that one has to smell
wine to see if it is good
just like pussy
and then made a loud sniffing noise
when he walked by me...
This is what happens when little girls are bad.

When he drove me out
beyond the city lights and headlights
into the desolation and silence of night
pushed me down, laid heavy on top of me
when he pushed himself into me...
This is what happens when little girls are bad.

When he pulled me out of a chair
pushed me toward my bedroom
and threw me against a wall
my body bouncing back into his hands
to be thrown again, again, again...
This is what happens when little girls are bad.

When he called me a manipulative little bitch,
a stuck-up, spoiled brat
because I made cinnamon toast
without asking his permission...
This is what happens when little girls are bad.

When he was choking the voice out of my mother...
This is what happens…
I wanted to yell at him –
At the guy sitting across the classroom - 
At the other guy sitting across the other classroom -
At the guy working next to me -
At the guy who married my sister -
At the guy who doesn’t believe
that I am his daughter
because he believes
that my mother was a “whore” - 

I wanted to yell,
“Hey, understand this you asshole,
I get it that this world was made by people like you
for people like you,
but you were never justified
In claiming my mind and body as yours to dominate
and this world is changing, right now.”

But I froze – cold, distant, solid, voiceless,
only to thaw out later in moments of self-destruction.
Scars on my body scream
of inaccessible, inexpressible, pain and anger.
With nowhere else to go,
my suffering turns back on myself.

Why did I freeze?
I hear his voice calling us...
our little bodies push through the haze of nighttime
into their unlit room.On display before us, 
her naked body lays over his lap.

“Look girls, this is what happens when little girls are bad.”
He raises his hand, bringing it down
on her bare butt, thighs, and lower back.
Raising his hand, he brings it down
again – flesh violently meeting flesh –
and again – smack, smack, smack…
He pushes her off of him.He discards her - her utility spent. He's done unleashing his pain.He now feels in control. 
We follow her out of the room
and help her put band-aids
on the bruises that had turned to blood blisters
and burst open, seeping,not one of us weeping. 

This is what happens…

Betty Jean Stoneman

Both pieces by Emma Morgan, check out more of her work at emmamorganart.com