My secrets hidden. In boxes. Hidden in dark back corners of my attic. I am going in. Fully armored with a glass of wine and a good deep breath.
It is time for me to explore the secrets I have hidden long ago. Memories so terrifying I buried them deep and piled other boxes on top of those memories so I would not have to look at them. There are the Halloween decorations. Spider webs that cover the front porch. Creepy spiders with lights that flash on and off. On top of those there are the Christmas boxes filled with nut crackers and pretty house hold decorations. A sight that is sure to bring a smile to everyone who visits our home.
In the back corner there are boxes. Boxes that have held my secrets I have shared with no-one. And now I am having flash backs. My shrink tells me I am having flash backs because some where in my mind I have asked to remember. I am not so sure. The memories come is short bursts. Like lighting. They catch me and take my breath away.
The man/boy who took my body and not my mind. His sneering smile when I asked for more.
The attack on my body in a parking lot and the tattoo I so vividly remember on his hand.
The drugs I used to numb the pain that I wasn’t even aware of.
The longing, searching, and hoping to belong to someone and eventually whoring myself. And hating myself.
The loss of self.
The searching of me.
The attic is a scary place.
At least I opened the box.