Venting A dead flower, a raped child

[in2thespiral]

My own father held me down against the cold tile of a bathroom floor and took my innocence like he was simply plucking a petal off of a flower. I was a flower he loved to make bleed. He would bend the flower into different positions until he was satisfied. The flower remained silent because flowers can't speak. All the flower could do is droop in sorrow. The flower began to wither from a fear it couldn't comprehend. He plucked each petal with a sickenly calm demeanor. Once the petals were all gone, it was nothing but a stem. Even then, he slowly peeled it apart. Over and over until it didn't have anything left of itself. He still found a way to violate the emptiness that it was. He would sneak through the dark and carry it out of it's bed of soil. The flower tucked itself in so tightly thinking he wouldn't be able to take it out from beneath the layers of dirt. But there it was, in his grasp once again. Forever stolen by the violence in each line of his palm. The flower was nourished by the agony he grew from destruction. The flower wished it was never a seed. The flower wasn't even a flower anymore. It was a dead pile of stomped on weeds.

 

[soul2realm]

My own father held me down against the cold tile of a bathroom floor and took my innocence like he was simply plucking a petal off of a flower. I was a flower he loved to make bleed. He would bend the flower into different positions until he was satisfied. The flower remained silent because flowers can't speak. All the flower could do is droop in sorrow. The flower began to wither from a fear it couldn't comprehend. He plucked each petal with a sickenly calm demeanor. Once the petals were all gone, it was nothing but a stem. Even then, he slowly peeled it apart. Over and over until it didn't have anything left of itself. He still found a way to violate the emptiness that it was. He would sneak through the dark and carry it out of it's bed of soil. The flower tucked itself in so tightly thinking he wouldn't be able to take it out from beneath the layers of dirt. But there it was, in his grasp once again. Forever stolen by the violence in each line of his palm. The flower was nourished by the agony he grew from destruction. The flower wished it was never a seed. The flower wasn't even a flower anymore. It was a dead pile of stomped on weeds.

I am aghast, extremely sorry for what happened to you. Did you report this? I mean how can...no words. Please get the authorities involved. No its not your burden. It's a complete violation. I cannot even start to comprehend the pain you have gone through. This is demonic. Please get someone involved, a friend, relative and especially i cannot emphasize enough- the authorities.
You are not a dead pile of anything, you are a living, full of light person and no one, i mean no one has the right to harm you, even the slightest.
I pray for you and sending you loads of love and blessings. And you are not alone.

 

[fadedghost]

My own father held me down against the cold tile of a bathroom floor and took my innocence like he was simply plucking a petal off of a flower. I was a flower he loved to make bleed. He would bend the flower into different positions until he was satisfied. The flower remained silent because flowers can't speak. All the flower could do is droop in sorrow. The flower began to wither from a fear it couldn't comprehend. He plucked each petal with a sickenly calm demeanor. Once the petals were all gone, it was nothing but a stem. Even then, he slowly peeled it apart. Over and over until it didn't have anything left of itself. He still found a way to violate the emptiness that it was. He would sneak through the dark and carry it out of it's bed of soil. The flower tucked itself in so tightly thinking he wouldn't be able to take it out from beneath the layers of dirt. But there it was, in his grasp once again. Forever stolen by the violence in each line of his palm. The flower was nourished by the agony he grew from destruction. The flower wished it was never a seed. The flower wasn't even a flower anymore. It was a dead pile of stomped on weeds.

file a police report, there may be other victims

 

[martyrdom]

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[ArtisticJasper]

I am so sorry this has happened to you. If you feel able, file a report so that he can't do it to others. Most importantly take care of yourself.

 

[Bethlehem]

Did the flower puller guy ever go to jail and get flower pulled himself? Cuz usually guys like that gets flower pulled in jail
(Not being offensive just following Ur metafor or something)

 

[in2thespiral]

No, he isn't in jail. He is a free man roaming this earth. He has a respected but controversial reputation in my hometown. He is tightly knit with the police. I have had a dcfs case against him and he got it dropped because of his inner connections. There is no use anymore.

I am so sorry this has happened to you. If you feel able, file a report so that he can't do it to others. Most importantly take care of yourself.

Thank u for caring. I have tried. Unfortunately, it went nowhere. I will try to take care of myself, no matter how difficult it might be.

 

[Lost Impact]

It's horrible for anyone to go through this and I hope that one day you can regrow those petals and no one can ever take them from you again.