The Mirror.

No, this can’t be happening. No!
Frozen legs plastered on the rough ground,
My eyes struggling to process the horror
happening right in front of me,
Just like that
My frozen mind glitches
To a moment in time
20 years ago.

I can smell the stale air
I can feel the stench of raw terror
Of pain
Of fear
I can hear the horrid sounds of repellent skin
Slapping against unwilling skin
I can hear his pants
As he pounds and pounds, straining to gain release.

It is the same
Nothing changed
His hands on her skin
Look just as hateful as they used to feel on mine
His grunts and violent thrusts
Look just as pain wrecking and bruising
As they used to on me
The prevailing bruises left on the skin
By his hands and kicks
Look just as agonizing as those
Of the man who used them on me
20 years ago.

But I do not hear the screams of the girl
...