Shattering Inside by Lisa Ahne

Sarah sat all alone on a hill overlooking a
wide grassy plain. Dark clouds hung low and heavy in the sky,
causing the thick heady smell of rain that was in the air. The wind
blew coolly on her flushed face, lifting her thick hair off of her
neck. She took a deep shuddering breath and raised her eyes to the
angry sky.
    Here in the midst of creation she would not
lie to herself. After all, wasn’t nature brutally honest? It was
honest in all of its sweet beauty. It was honest in all of its
unutterable glory. It was honest in its savage wrath. What else
could she do? What could she do when nature was combining its
beauty, glory, and wrath all together in this awesome setting but
be at least honest?
    She could still feel it. Oh, God! She had
never stopped feeling it. So, sitting there, she allowed herself to
feel it. She actually wallowed in it. She closed her eyes tight and
let the feelings of anguish and shame wash over her like the rain
that would soon be falling. When the rain did start to fall, she
felt it all over her, everywhere at once, and she let her tears
mingle with the moisture that ran down her face. All the while, she
hoped and she prayed it would do something to wash away the dirt
that was inside of her. Couldn’t anything wash away the hurt and
the shame inside? Wouldn’t anything even come close?
    It always comes back to this. Doesn’t it
always come back to this? No matter where life takes her or how far
she comes, she can’t let go. She can fool herself for a short while
into thinking that the past is buried and she’s alright, but it’s
always waiting to rise up and strangle her. The memories were never
going to go away. It was if it had just happened hours ago. She
felt the nausea rising up inside of her. Please, not now. Not
now!
    “I love you, Rah-Rah.” She could hear his
voice. “I sure do love you.”
    What kind of man would do that to a little
girl? What kind of sick, demented man? Her parents had trusted him.
She had called him uncle, even though he was no relation. He was
Daddy’s best friend. They had grown up together. They had been in
the army together. They were always together. He was always around.
Whenever they had family dinners, he was there. He took her to the
zoo. He bought her ice cream and dried her tears when she skinned
her knees.
    Uncle Jeffrey had been the model friend. He
was the longsuffering babysitter. Always there in a pinch. They
thought he was doing favors. How could they be so blind? Didn’t
they know what he was doing to her? Didn’t they care?
    She could still feel his every touch, his
every kiss. Even as a child she had known it was wrong. It made her
feel wrong. The places he would touch. The things he would say. She
didn’t want to, but he was too big to tell no. Yet, she couldn’t
help loving him. Did that make her bad? He was so nice to her any
other time. He didn’t mean to hurt her. That was just how grownups
showed their love. Her parents didn’t show their love for her like
that because she was their kid, but it was how they showed their
love for each other. Uncle Jeffrey told her so.
    Oh, God, please. How could he hurt her like
that? It did hurt. It hurt physically, but that pain went away. It
hurt her in her head and heart. That pain never went away. It
didn’t stop when he had. It would never stop. It would be there her
whole life. Sometimes she thought it was her life. The cards she
was dealt. The lot she held. It was the center of her thoughts at
most moments.
    He had haunted her dreams. Images of him over
her. The feel of his breath on her neck. The tearing pain. So many
nights she woke up in a cold sweat, screaming until she was hoarse,
and her parents couldn’t understand why. Jeffrey had told her not
to tell. It was their special secret. He said that Mommy would
think she was a bad girl. Mommy would not understand, and she did
not want to anger Mommy. It didn’t matter what he said. She would
never have told anyway. Everyone would think