Abused

From long red curles to a bundle of nerves. As your awakened in the night with a hand over your mouth to muffel your scream and a fist to you gut, just so your shure he means business, you lay there and take it day after day after day. Who could we tell, the burses were hidden by clothing and your mind is controled by the fear. Your told you will be dead, your mother will die by the knife in her sleep and your brothers would be shot with the shot gun that hung loaded on the wall. Who could we tell then. As a child you think like a child this person who is abusing you is suppose to be your protector not your abuser. You hate him and feel petrified everytime he begins to wisper in your ear. The night is always the worse. Everyone is asleep so nows his chance to steel part of your soul and give a piece of it to the devil for good measure, possibley to ensure himself a spot next to thrown in hell. At 5 was I just to sexie for my body? What was the attraction, to this day I could not say. What posseses a grown adult to pry on a little child. There isn't a reason good enough, people say sick mind, not good enough, they were abused, still not good enough, they needed help, you know what, SO DOOES THE ABUSED CHILD!!!! Now who could we tell when such excuses side with the abuser? Does society give him a licence to hurt someone else with all the excuses that are forgiven in a court of law. Who helps the abused? Who do we TELL that will help us?!