This house is filled with innocence and evil. Tonight one will be elevated, the other extinguished.
Standing out front I sense the timing is soon. I look at my lioness, Themis, ready to assist me. Always at my side I am grateful for her loyalty and fierce nature. It will be needed tonight. My heart aches suddenly. I feel the fear and deadened spirit of the child in this house. She needs my strength and most certainly my love. I walk towards the front door with Themis following.
Entering the home I am surrounded by the years of pain caused to this child. Living in fear of a man using control and intimidation daily. Using her body as a tool for his pleasure. Where was her mother with five children enduring abuse, not only this precious child? A whimper interrupts the anger building in me. I quickly head towards the child.
Entering the bathroom I see the old fashioned tub. Were it not for the evil taking place one would see its beauty. The child, ten years of age, lays inside the tub facing inward in fear and shame. She is trying to cover her nude body from someone not in the room but who is present. I know where he is. Looking up at the ceiling with its missing pieces I “see” him. I feel him. This is a coward. He is afraid of me. Glaring at him I feel his fear even more. This will be the last time he hurts this child. Or any child.
I take off my cloak laying it on the ground and then gently lift the child out of the tub, cradling her in my arms pressed against my heart giving her my love and protection. With one hand I lift the robe to cover her body. She puts her face in my hair sobbing with relief. I look at the ceiling, at him one more time. Then I give a nod to Themis. She heads up the stairs to the attic.
Leaving the home with the child I comfort her, promise her she is safe and never to be harmed again. Her spirit is divine as well as her nature. My mission is to always be her guardian.
This writing is based on my experiences in the tub. The home I lived in from the ages of 10-18 was rundown which is exemplified by the holes in the ceiling. My stepfather would go in the attic and watch me while I bathed and pleasured himself on numerous occasions. One would think they had privacy in the bathroom? He would talk to me and I would hear his heavy breathing. I hated it. For years after I left the abuse I would look up at the ceiling of every bathroom in a private residence. So this creative piece represents my desire to be rescued.
Artwork by Dharma, excerpt from a larger painting.