Being A Girl: A Brief Personal History of Violence

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“Girls can do anything boys do, but sometimes they get killed for it.”

The Belle Jar

1.

I am six. My babysitter’s son, who is five but a whole head taller than me, likes to show me his penis. He does it when his mother isn’t looking. One time when I tell him not to, he holds me down and puts penis on my arm. I bite his shoulder, hard. He starts crying, pulls up his pants and runs upstairs to tell his mother that I bit him. I’m too embarrassed to tell anyone about the penis part, so they all just think I bit him for no reason.

I get in trouble first at the babysitter’s house, then later at home.

The next time the babysitter’s son tries to show me his penis, I don’t fight back because I don’t want to get in trouble.

One day I tell the babysitter what her son does, she tells me that he’s just a little boy, he doesn’t know…

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About riedstrap

I have completed my first novel*... well third if you count the two magnificent pieces I wrote in primary school, and am really getting passionate about writing and learning about webdesign, blogging and publishing. *Since starting this blog I have in fact completed the sequel to said novel and am thinking of releasing it next year. But have also snuck in another two novels, one which I want to self publish next year, a memoir for all my fellow fifty shades of crae crae lady friends, and a flirty bit of feisty fun that will be epublished through Spice Ebooks in July 2015.

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