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Today's the time for courage, babe
Tomorrow can be for forgiving
And if he touches you again with his stupid hands
His life won't be worth living
--"Sweetheart Come" - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
It happens infrequently. In short bursts.
He loses control.
His voice in my ear.
"You're getting so big ."
There's something wrong, something so terribly wrong, but I can't seem to move away even as he reaches for me.
"Do you touch yourself?" He says, pulling me against his chest. The smell of him -- harsh soap, tobacco, skin, oh, I loathe the smell of his skin -- repulses me. "Under your dress?"
He touches my face, lets his fingers follow the wet path down my cheek, past my lips, down to the small hollow just above my tie. "Show me."
Every time he takes something away from me, the hole inside of me gets bigger and bigger.
And I get smaller and smaller.
Until I disappear.
There is no avoiding him.
He is everywhere.
Leaning over me during my lessons.
Watching me sweep the dormitory.
Calling me into his office.
"You want a new mummy and daddy, don't you?" He asks.
"You have to learn to be obedient," he says. "Like Clara."
And then he reaches for me.
I don't try to stop him.
I have to learn to be good --
Like Clara.
But I can never be like Clara.
Alone in the bathroom, I peel back my skirt.
Bandages around my leg, a piece of broken glass from the mirror in my hand.
It doesn't hurt like it used to.
But if I go a little deeper --
That's better.
Oh, dear.
Sneaky Jennifer, peeking through the keyhole.
Did she see what she wanted to see?
Mr. Hoffman is furious.
Now he is avoiding me .
Why don't I feel better?
There's so much blood this time.
It hurts.
Meg and Jennifer both told on me.
Miss Martha looks at me like I'm a stain on the floor.
Maybe if she did the laundry more, she would know the truth.
I'm just a stain on the sheets.
"Diana, does Mr. Hoffman touch you?"
I smile up at her as my throat fills with bile.
"What do you mean, miss?"