Evil comes in many forms. The most frightening kind is the one you share a bloodline with.
I was maybe four or five when it began. My little sister and I were often left with the nanny because our parents are working. My uncle who lived next door would occasionally drop by and distract my little sister to play somewhere else; he gave her candies and toys and sometimes money. This went on for two years.
I did not know what the bastard did to me until I was eight.
Evil is when he said, “This is our secret game so do not tell anyone about it.”
Evil is when I told my nan about it but did not believe me.
Evil brews among rape ableists.
Evil is explaining what it’s like having something done to you against your will to people and get laughed at.
Rape culture is evil.
This is what evil looks like in my eyes. It is the kind that never leaves your body, like it was engraved in my bones when he first touched me. The kind that haunts you at 3 in the morning.
It is the kind of evil that still makes you quiver when someone touches you.
Written for The Daily Post.