I am on the ceiling. Floating, transparent in this world. Later, I would learn this is called dissociation.
After a blow to the head, my body is a rag doll; limp and responsive in all of the wrong ways.
If you asked me back then what had happened I would have lied to you; partly in a childish attempt to be cool and partly because I did not know.
I woke up Monday morning, sore in ways no person should ever be, searching for splattered blood and shards of skull fragments. Still, I can vividly recall the silent way my dad flung open my bedroom door and smashed his skull with the bat he keeps as 'low-level protection'; for the kind of threats you don't waste bullets on. False memories.
I cried my way out of class and senior project, maintaining I was "too sick" to go to school. Sick with what? Shame. At first, I felt betrayed by Ginger, she never barked to alert my parents of the danger, she wasn't waiting outside my window when he snuck out to tear his leg off. Even the harder the betrayal fell on me, I did not scream and save myself. Sometimes I catch myself wondering what would have happened if I had screamed. My father's only child screaming for help, this boy would not have walked out of the house in any of the scenarios. The sheer size of my father, a mountain, he probably could have killed him with his bare hands.
Sometimes I catch myself wondering where he is. Has Karma caught up to him but only after how many girls? If I had not been so ashamed and reported him would that have saved someone else down the line?
Sometimes I go back to the reconstructed memory and sit with her, the girl I used to be, just to see the ways I have grown. Some people say this moment does not define me, just let it go but I would not be me without it. If I had stayed a child longer, if I had lost my innocence gently, I would be softer, less of a fighter. I do not believe I would have the ability to burn this brightly if I were not a survivor.
Survivor. I am defined by this moment and all the other moments I have survived. When the world tells me to be ashamed and hide my story, I will be brave with my story.