I was 16. He was 29, a family member. I was curious, he was evil. The serpent. Taking advantage of the situation. Tempted in an old abandoned dirty garage. Mind and body soaring someplace else. One kiss and I was addicted. One touch and no longer the same. Drunk on the forbidden. Lines crossed. I set into motion a series of events that have held me captive. It’s inescapable: this prison I hold myself in. I’m only now starting to see the blood on my hands. The venom- it’s in my touch, in my words, in my mind.
|Miranda The Temptest by John William Waterhouse|