Prologue “Dont Touch Me There

“Please don’t touch me, please don’t touch me.” Niesee thought as she tried to lay as still as possible. Thinking, ‘maybe if I don’t move’, he would forget just this one night that she was in the bed. Her mother had left at her usual time to go to Ms. Betty’s, the white lady she cleaned house for.

Niesee, her mother and her boyfriend of the moment all slept in the same bed, in the rundown roach and rat infested basement apartment. The furniture was literally garbage that other people had put on the street and Niesee’s mother had picked up and brought home.

The couch was what was once white, but was now more of a dingy beige, with these big ugly flowers on them. The arms both had multiple holes and all the stuffing missing in action. The couch was a let out bed, but the legs to hold the bed up were broken, so when you let it out, it just dropped to the floor. The first time my mother let it out, there were so many bugs and rodents crawling on it that we both screamed and ran. I absolutely refused to sleep on it, which is how at 5 years old I came to be sleeping with my mother and her child molesting boyfriend.

But, as usual, laying still and pretending I was dead did not work. He took the bottom of my nightgown and slowly lifted it up. I could hear him breathing all hard and getting excited about what he was about to do. “You nasty, bastard.” That’s what I had heard my mama call him when she caught him cheating. But whatever he be doing to her to have her screaming her head off, must have been good, cause even that didn’t make her leave him. Sounded like he was killing her to me. Why would you want somebody to do something to make you scream like that?

He didn’t work, he drank and smoked weed all day while my mama was breaking her back every day, and then when she came home, if she did the littlest thing he would beat the crap out of her. But worst of all was that stinkin mess they smoked out of them pipes. It made my eyes burn and made me want to throw up.

But back to this nasty bastard. I didn’t even bother telling on this one, because the last time I told mama one of her no good boyfriends was touching me, she beat me so bad with the two by four that she kept behind the door, I prayed I would just die. He had gotten my night-gown pulled all the way up and was doing it all slow like that was gonna keep me from knowing what was going on. He pulled my panties to the side and started touching my special spot.



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