Picking up the pieces

Once he was done. He dressed himself, turned around, spat on me and left. After what was probably an hour of me trying to sync my mind with my body spirit and soul into one being that understood just what happened. I wept bitterly. My juvenile head and heart could not understand what had just been done and what that would mean hereafter. I searched for my panty, which probably lay somewhere hidden and buried probably in a place next to where my innocence might be. I used my bloodied hands to reach out and feel the muddy, decaying floor for a soft and cotton texture that was mine. In the dark of the cold room I could smell sweat, pain, mixed with blood hatred and lust. It was pungent. While searching, my hands touched an empty beer bottle and felt what was a toy that wasn't mine... I went numb. I found what I was looking for, wiped his remains off my body and got up. I put on the shreds that was my uniform and opened the metal shack door. I couldn't find my shoes so I just walked on the bottles, muck and stones until the pain my feet felt matched that of my body. I walked out the steel house and didn't look back. I didn't want to know where he lived. So I walked looking up. The sun was out and for once in my life I stopped to look at its beauty. I felt its embrace and watched it kiss my cold skin as if to say "I'm so sorry my child". I saw its light envelope my bruised body and could hear birds sing songs that told me "I love you". As I watched the filthy streets fill up with filthy people. I looked at each of them as the evil plans they secretly kept beneath their breath. I saw their eyes full of greed and could hear their sick thoughts ringing in my pounding head. I could smell the blood from their pores and knew that the world I lived in was like a decaying apple full of worms, sickness and disease. It was no place for me to live and grow. How could I possibly be a nice person after what had just happened to me. The sound of music from taxis, shouting from queue marshals and the smell of fat cakes, chips and russians reminded me of a time that lived in my past. A time and place I'd never again see. Happiness and peace. That place left with the man that took my innocence with him. As I walked slowly praying that my pain wasn't noticed by the people who brushed against me as they moved, I heard a small voice roaring in laughter, it was that of my friend Thandi. Her laughter was so unique that for a second it made me forget who I was and I smiled. It was a pleasant reminder of who I was before "it" happened. I could hear her talking to her friends about a new dance move she saw on TV. The sound of a bouncing ball one of her friends had, caught my attention. It was a distraction from my misery and hurt. I looked up and towards their direction. She immediately spotted me and called me to come play. "Mgani woza!" Her friend threw the ball at me to catch. I stood still and looked at them and watched the ball roll towards my feet. As it touched my filthy toes I looked at it and back at them. She couldn't see that I was no longer a child but now a woman! She couldn't see that I'm now different from them! All of them! I've seen and felt things even their mothers know nothing about! She couldn't see that I'm now an outsider and not a kid who plays with bouncing balls! As they called my name repeatedly all I heard was his breath against my ear. So I just stood there. So just I stood unsure of whether to be a child or be what he turned me into...