Lily Lulonut

I don’t remember much of what happened to me. I have bits and pieces that flow through my mind. Strong emotions and fears that break through on occasion. Memories long buried, buried so deep it almost feels like they never happened.

I know they happened though, even if I wish they hadn’t. I can’t quite grasp them. For me, they exist as blurred-out images, like those old Polaroid pictures. The ones that would print in an instant. They used to be hung on the wall of the room I can’t escape. Now, they only exist in my mind.

Doorways to memories.

I sometimes try to think of how it was before. Before it all started.

Why did he pick me?

What was it that he saw?

I don’t know if what I’m about to write is truth or fiction, but it is an image of my emotions and feelings in this moment. There is likely some truth in it.

***

Sitting on the floor was a little boy. Though, not really a little boy. Too young to understand themselves yet. Too young to even understand gender.

Their name was…

They were playing with some toys on the floor. Maybe they were playing with dolls, dolls that their sister usually played with.

Sitting next to them was a woman, family. She was on the floor playing with the child.

She decided to ask a question. Nothing serious, just a silly question you ask a small child.

“Do you like your name?”

The child looked at her for a moment, considering the question, and then answered.

“It’s okay, I guess.”

The woman was confused for a moment, expecting something more carefree and affirming.

The child kept playing for another minute before the woman decided to ask again.

“Is there a name you like better?”

The child stopped playing and took another moment to think. Really using their brain to come up with an answer.

Then, just like that:

“I like lilies.”

The child and woman are playing, but there is someone else in the room. Someone who, until now, hadn’t really been involved or even present.

An older man, simply watching the exchange.

In that moment of clarity, that moment of seeing the child, something shifted.

For this man, something more perverse began to creep in.

This child became something he could take advantage of.

Something to be warped, molded, corrupted.

A toy the man could play with.

A toy the man could break…

***

I’ve been pacing in my house for the last 30 minutes thinking about this scene. It’s stuck in my head like a terrible thought I can’t get rid of.

I don’t think this scene happened quite like that, if it happened at all. But it feels like the way it all began. In reality, there’s probably no reason. He was just a terrible person.

I do feel a little better though. It feels like I got something out that was stuck. Cleared out the cobwebs maybe.

Maybe it will help remove the blur from those terrible images, or maybe it will help things finally flow.

Thank you for reading. And if this resonated with you, I’m sorry.

You are strong, and you are brave.

Stay safe.

— Lily