Got It Going On by Stephanie Perry Moore

needing someone to rescue me from harm, but no one would. What was this about?
    Oh, my gosh. The past I’d blocked out suddenly dawned on me as his voice kept talking in my ear. I could see his body on top of me. I could hear that same voice telling me to relax and calm down and enjoy it. He was the one who had violated me so young.
    I just started pounding on his chest and screaming, “I hate you! You raped me! I was little. How could you do that!”
    He immediately let me go. He didn’t move, and I didn’t either. This was more than I needed to remember.
    Shaking, Sally came over to us and said, “What? What are you talking about?”
    â€œI can’t believe this! I have been thinking all this time that I was crazy. The nightmares—I couldn’t put them together. I couldn’t understand. I guess I blocked them out because the uncle who should have protected me like a brother took advantage of me.”
    I kicked him and hit him and punched him in his chest, and he didn’t fight back. He didn’t deny it. He didn’t tell me to calm down or say, “Cassidy, no, it wasn’t me.” He just dropped to the floor.
    â€œWhat in the world is going on in here?” my mom screamed.
    Tears were streaming down my face. Everything I had been going through—so promiscuous, always thinking sex was the answer, needing to feel loved—stemmed from him taking advantage of me as a child. I wanted him to pay. I wanted him to burn. I wanted him to feel as horrible as I had felt for years. I certainly wasn’t going to protect him for my mom, who thought he was perfect.
    I shouted at the top of my lungs, “Your precious brother raped me years ago!”
    â€œNo,” my mom said as she backed out of my room. “No, no. Bill would never do that. He had girls coming out of the woodwork. I had to keep them off him. He would never ruin my child, his niece. Tell her, Bill. Tell her!”
    Sally rushed over to me, looked me in the eye, and saw that there was no way I could be lying. She went to her brother and slapped him hard. “Was misusing me not enough?”
    My mom screamed out, “What?”
    I wiped my tears and thought, What? Had Sally been through my same tormented ordeal? Did she now have an excuse for never amounting to much—because her own brother had taken her innocence? Bill needed to be behind bars somewhere.
    â€œYeah, why you think I’m so messed up?” Sally said as she went over to her sister. “Life has been hard because my brother misused me. I never knew he was doing the same to your little girl.”
    â€œHow could you, Bill?” my mom said sadly, clearly letting us know this was the worst news of her life. “I can’t believe you’d do this to me. I’ve given you everything I had. I took you in. I cared for you when no one else would, and you do this to my daughter? You misused my trust? Get out of here!”
    She yelled more cuss words than I knew existed as she charged up to him, but he didn’t move. She ran to the kitchen and grabbed a knife. It took everything Sally and I had to hold her back. But, fighting us off, she got loose and went for him.

10
    BLAME
    S eeing my mother with a sharp butcher knife in her hand scared me. I had never seen her eyes fire red before. Her temples were bulging outta her head. And though her body was trembling, the knife was held right at my uncle’s throat.
    â€œI loved you. I would’ve given my life for yours. But right now I’m gonna take yours instead. You don’t deserve to live. How could you, Bill?”
    â€œMom!” I screamed. “No! He’s not worth it, Mom. Please drop it. He’s not important enough.” I stepped in at that moment and grabbed the blunt, steel object and took it away from my mother.
    She fell into my arms, saying, “I can’t believe I didn’t know.”
    â€œI hate you!” Sally