(“Just Violated?” Book Excerpt)
…The Mouse.
The house I grew up in was built around the 19 teens.
Why am I mentioning this?
Because, this house, being what it was, had structural issues and cracks.
The basement, when it was built, only had a dirt floor. It was like walking back into an early 1900s cellar, walking down those original, rickety wooden steps, set against a crumbling plaster wall. Dirt floor.
Not cement. Not linoleum. Not wood. Not carpet.
Dirt.
Stayed that way. Never upgraded.
And therefore, this area was invaded by mice.
And they traveled upstairs. Mousetraps were set in the kitchen.
Rodent poison was the solution for the basement. The kind that caused the mice to bleed from their eyes, noses, and mouths.
Grizzly.
My dad- the Sadist/Abuser/Probable Rapist- saw an opportunity here, not just a rodent.
I was about five or six. I was asleep. Until I wasn’t.
I felt something tickle my nose, brush up against my cheek. I opened my eyes, to brush it away from my face.
I see a face instead. A dead mouse’s face. It took up my entire field of vision at first.
Bleary-eyed, and startled, I looked past that dead face.
I saw him, sneering, at the end of the poor creature’s body, its tail, dangling from his fingertips.
