There was fully four of them,
and woefully one of me.
They cleverly left the scars
where no one else could see.

They took advantage of
my being the younger kid.
They told me they could because
they knew what my step-dad did.

I had to keep it secret,
there was no one I could tell.
They had crafted it this way
to make my life a living hell.

The fact that my parent doled out
an abundance of abuse,
was a heinous point the boys knew
and therefore put to use.

Every action and grotesque touch,
was followed with plenteous threats.
To this very day I wonder:
Do those boys have any regrets?

To be so callous and so cruel,
to make a slave out of a child;
fulfilled their petty fantasies,
and clearly drove them wild.

What type of sickly ego
gets enjoyment out of this?
Was humiliation entertainment?
Did my tears provide their bliss?

These random acts of evil,
I still seek to understand.
It’s my only way of coping,
and not hating every man.

– Phoenix Aradia


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