Again with Genesis

Life.  Yes, it begins again.  I try to compose my thoughts as they race across my eyes and into the back of my head.  If only I had chopsticks I could snatch them, the damned, quick flies, as Mr. Miyagi had done with unmatched skill back in the day. Beginning this blog is scarier to me than having my blood drawn with the phlebotomist who admitted it was her 3rd day (lest I forget to mention, I am TERRIFIED of needles) when I was pregnant with Karis.  What makes this a terrifying experience?  I have wanted to write my entire life.  I do write, but I've never done it with the intent of actually making it go somewhere for fear of failure.  I will soon be attending creative writing classes and will hopefully have my own "Josephine March" type of penn name one day.  But for today, a genesis.  I would like to begin with something unpleasant.  Every single day of my life my behavior, my thoughts, my hopes or void of any future, my smiles or lack thereof are due to what I believe is a life-altering evil I experienced not once, not twice but mulitple times over the course of my life.  The pain creates cycles, the cycles create cycles... but I am getting ahead of myself.  Before I spill it I will mention that I dedicate this blog to all others who have been through things like what I am about to share, as well as those who are no longer with us as the pain got to them before sanity was found.  I was five when it first happened.  I remember the tree house.  My friend's yard was amazing, green and gigantic.  Her tree house was centered in the middle of the field, or at least it seemed it to me, and the ladder was a difficult climb.  I was in charge of bringing the juice boxes to the indoor picnic as she and I called it.  She was in the kitchen with her mom when I decided to be productive and start climbing.  When I arrived at the top I was surprised to find her brother, who I did not know was home, waiting for me with an odd look on his face.  He was 16.  I remember it was awful.  I remember it was unfair.  He grabbed me and instantaneously began to remove what he could from my attire.  I remember my mouth quivering and asking him "Can I go home please?"  He declined my idea.  My friend never did come up.  But her brothers friend did.  Their hands appeared larger than life and dirtier than a cole miner's grimace.  I can never say for sure how long it was but indefinitely, it was an eternity.  I left that tree house knowing a few things.  I was not worth my friend's time.  I was apparently only worth their time.  I guessed that's all I was worth.