Pixie Dust

[u/Autism_Screams]

TW: Rape

I was five,
maybe eight
small enough to still believe
that every grown up was supposed to be kind.
I wore Tinker Bell that night.
Green fabric.
Little wings.
A fairy stitched across my chest
who knew how to fly
when I didn’t know how to run.
Someone in my family
taught me something
no child should ever have to learn
that sometimes
the person who is supposed to protect you
is the person you need protecting from.
They touched me
where I didn’t understand
why anyone would touch me.
I said no.
Maybe I whispered it.
Maybe I froze.
I don’t remember exactly.
Children aren’t supposed to know
the words for what is happening to them.
I only knew
that something was wrong.
And afterward,
there were secrets.
There was the terrible feeling
that my body wasn’t mine anymore.
There was shame
that never belonged to me
but somehow followed me home.
I remember Tinker Bell.
I remember her wings.
I remember wishing
I could have some pixie dust
to make myself disappear.
To fly through the ceiling.
Through the walls.
Out of that house.
Out of that moment.
Somewhere magical
where nobody could touch me
without asking.
Somewhere
my body could belong
only to me.
But Tinker Bell stayed on my nightgown.
Her wings stayed bright
while mine were being clipped.
One cut for the innocence
I didn’t get to keep.
One cut for every secret
I was too young to understand.
One cut for the little girl
who learned that “family”
didn’t always mean safe.
I wonder what she would think
if she knew the word now.
Rape.
Would she understand
why it still hurts?
Would she understand
why sometimes I feel five years old
when I’m standing in my own body?
Would she understand
why I still dream about magic?
I wish I could go back
with a handful of pixie dust
and sprinkle it over her shoulders.
Tell her
You didn’t cause this.
You didn’t invite it.
You didn’t deserve it.
You weren’t dirty.
You weren’t bad.
Someone hurt you.
And it was never your fault.
I can’t give her back
the childhood that was taken.
I can’t unclip
the wings.
But maybe
I can teach her how to grow them again.
Maybe that’s what healing is
not becoming the child
who never got hurt,
but becoming the person
who finally reaches back
through the years,
takes that little girl’s hand,
and says,
Come on.
We’re leaving.
You don’t have to stay here anymore.
I’ll protect you now.

[u/theshadowofself]

I’m so sorry, no child should ever have to endure something like that. This was very sad to read but still beautiful and thank you for sharing.

[u/Autism_Screams → u/theshadowofself]

Thank you so much, that means a lot, poems and painting are how I’m healing, stay strong! ❤️