NIGHTINGALE

***

My father ripped my blouse and put his face between my breasts that were still in a bra. I realized that I was in shock when I didn’t move or make a sound. It was like I was watching this happen to a stranger, like it wasn’t happening to me and I was just watching from afar. My father was physically abusive, yes, but he never outrightly abused me sexually. Confusion commingled with absolute terror in my mind as he began to fondle my breasts. He squeezed them roughly and rubbed himself through his boxers, he was already hard.

“You both have been nothing but a burden to...