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Raquel’s Rage

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“Shut up, you dumb bitch. I’m tired of your bullshit.”

Raquel slammed her cell phone shut and tossed it across the room and onto her bed. Her best girlfriend Michelle entered the room and questioned her about who she was speaking to like that.

“Raquel, who were you on the phone with?”
“My stupid ass mom.”
“Girl you don’t talk to your mama like that! What’s wrong with you?”
“Michelle you don’t know my mother, we been through some shit and I’ll talk to her however I want to.”
“Well, I would never talk to my mama that way.”
“I wouldn’t talk to your mother like that either but then again your mother is not mine. Fuck her, if you had a mother like mine you would talk to her like that too.”

Michelle knew that there had to be much more to the story of why Raquel hated her mother so much but tonight wasn’t the night of the discovery. She thought it better to put her efforts towards cheering her friend up so that they would have a good time at the club.

“Alright girl, I’ll leave it alone. So, what club you want to hit first tonight?”

Raquel gradually calmed down and answered her friend’s question.

“I don’t know, I guess we could start at the G Bar and then hit The Hills.”

The girls went out that night and had a blast. Painful memories were suppressed in the back of Raquel’s young mind as she danced the night away. Two weeks later the girls sat on the couch in Michelle’s apartment after a party and breakfast at the local Waffle House. As the hash browns, eggs, bacon and toast soaked up the alcohol in the girls’ bellies they engaged in deep conversation. The little chat between good friends started with them sharing their life’s goals and ambitions then led into their fears, deepest hurts and lingering pains. Raquel felt that it was time she shared something with her good friend that she had shared with so few people in her short past.

“Michelle, I was raped.”

Michelle was blindsided by her friend’s confession; she couldn’t believe her ears.

“You were what, when?”

Michelle could barely form her words to inquire in depth about the serious claim her friend had just blurted out to her. She took her friend’s hand and chose her words carefully.

“Raquel, when did this happen?”

Raquel didn’t need much more prompting; she readily shared the details of her awful ordeal with her friend. She felt in her heart and mind that it was time.

“I was fourteen, a freshman in high school. I was walking home from school one day when I saw this van circling the block I was walking on. The guy eventually pulled close to me while I was walking and tried to talk to me. I tried to ignore him and walk faster but that’s when he pulled in front of me jumped out and snatched me up and threw me in the back. He drove me to some house somewhere. I was terrified so I couldn’t even tell you where the house is. When I got home late that day, my mother was pissed; she cursed me out and then I started crying non stop. She asked what the hell I was being so dramatic about so I told her.”

Raquel paused to garner the courage to share the most agonizing part of her experience. Michelle rubbed Raquel’s shoulders in an effort to comfort and support her friend. Michelle was beginning to hurt deep within her being at hearing the horrible experience her good friend endured at such a young age. She tried to remain strong for her friend as Raquel continued on with her troubling true tale.

“When I told her she got mad at me and then blamed me for it happening. She said if you didn’t wear all of those short tight clothes it probably wouldn’t have happened. I told you about dressing like a hooker, see what it got you.”

Michele was appalled at what she heard.

“She said what?”

Michelle had to reel herself back in regaining control of her emotions. She couldn’t imagine her own mother responding to something so heinous happening to her in such a callous manor.

“She yelled at me for over an hour about how stupid I was to let this happen to myself and how I was always bringing her trouble before she even called the police. When the police got there she was still talking shit. I went to the hospital and they did a rape kit on me. She went to the cafeteria and flirted with one of the orderlies while I was being examined. I had to go find her when the procedure was done. I stayed in my room and cried for weeks afterwards and she never once said anything to try and make me feel better. But, I did hear her on the phone talking shit about me to her friends and our relatives in Guatemala. It was like being raped all over again. What he did to me was horrible but what she did was way worse. If you can’t go to your mother for comfort, protection or some kind of compassion then where can you go?”

The girls shared a long hard cry as Michelle could no longer contain herself.

“Raquel, I’ll always be here for you. You can always count on me if nobody else.”

Michelle embraced her friend once again as they sobbed the early morning away.

In this life we can count on getting out of something exactly what we put into it, especially our children. If we shower them with love, instill sound morals in them and teach them the proper values we can expect behavior from them that those three things promote. Often times a parent is a child’s first and last line of defense even into adult hood. When we take for granted or abuse the love of our children, we release a curse upon ourselves. That same child will bring you misery because you never taught them the things that bring joy. Compassion, honesty and integrity are virtues our children need from us in order to develop emotionally in a healthy way. If we are lax in providing our children with the things they need, they will seek them elsewhere. Open honest communication is the key to developing positive productive relationships with our children. All children need guidance, direction and discipline tempered with mercy; boundaries, structure and parameters are also paramount. Only Christ can heal every wound but nobody in this world can bandage them up like Mommy or Daddy can.

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