Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Why we remember what we do

I was in the fifth or sixth grade and my sister was in the second or third and we were at a slumber party for our cheerleading squad, the (mighty)Vidars. We were all at Tonya's house and the next morning my sister left her clothes on the bathroom floor. Tonya's mother asked whose they were in a voice that we know that the owner was gonna git it.

When Roshann came to get her clothes Vickie spanked her right there in front of all of us. She slapped her butt and my sister cried. Slap slap slap slap. The damage she caused to me watching my sister get humiliated and abused like that was so great. And it was abuse. And that's just the damage to me, what about my sister?

I remember being angry with myself for not stopping it. For letting it happen. But I was a child too and can finally forgive myself for not being an adult at the time.

Memories. They pop up when we are ready to use them as lesson. When I witness others being abused in any way makes me sad and sometimes mad at myself. Probably because they trigger this memory.

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