I got a VHA! I got a VHA!

[anhedonia]

*does little dance*

My English teacher told me today I got a VHA on my reflective writing piece! Yay!!!!!!!!!!

*VHA = Very High Achievement
**Very High Achievement = Highest mark you can get ;)

[Toefur]

Well congratulations...

Want to share it with us, so we can see if it is infact worthy of a VHA? :biggrin2: :p

[Jan]

VHA? Very High Achievement??? :confused:

[anhedonia]

Hmmk, here we go *embarassed*. :o


************************************************

SILENT INSIDE
By +chips

I sat in the middle of my bedroom floor, the carpet tickling my legs and the sunlight speckling my skin. In my lap lay a photo album, with a torn corner and dirty, worn cover, the colour faded to a light blue. I opened the first page, glancing briefly at the photos stuck there, and flipped quickly through the next few pages until a loose photo slipped out. I picked the photo up and turned it over. My hand quivered and I let the photo go, my breath coming in short, raspy gasps…

I don’t know how it happened. I was sick that night, and went to bed early, leaving Mum and her new husband Clive downstairs.
I had been restless, my head spinning and aching with the remnants of an intense headache. Not even an hour had passed when I heard a soft knock at the door. “You feeling okay?” It was Clive.
I rolled over, the dull pain in my head shrieking in protest as I did so. “A little better.”
“Mind if I come in for a minute?” He asked.
I sighed. I wasn’t all that comfortable with him just yet. I pulled the blankets up around me, covering my bare legs. “Uh, sure…”
The door opened, and my new stepfather entered. I didn’t know why at the time, but suddenly I felt vulnerable, and filled with a sense of urgent dread. Clive sat on the end of the bed, smiling. Well, his mouth smiled – his eyes didn’t. “So you’re feeling better?”
“Uh-huh,” I replied, feeling uneasy. “My head’s still spinning, though,”
“Did you take a tablet?” Clive asked.
“Not yet,” I murmured, feeling vaguely nauseated at the way his eyes swept over me, but quickly avoided my eyes. “Where’s Mum?”
“She went next door,” There was that smile again. I guess I didn’t pick it up then, but now I think he felt triumphant – he was going to win. He knew it even before he knocked on my door.
Nervously, I coughed, wondering why he had to stare so intently, but never meet my eyes. The awkward silence was broken by Clive asking suddenly, “How do you feel about us being a family?”
I looked away and squeezed my eyes shut. My heart pounded, so fast, so loudly, I felt smothered. I gripped the edge of the bed. “Clive, I…”
I shifted my gaze back toward him, and all of a sudden he was moving closer. I felt a desperate need to wriggle further away from him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, aligned with my waist now.
I remember blinking; a long slow blink as I welcomed the spotted black, and wished Clive away. When I opened my eyes, his hand was beside my shoulder, gripping the top of the sheet. Thick, noisy panic raced through my veins. My palms began to sweat as he slowly pulled away the sheet. My breath rasped as I struggled to understand what was going on.
Clive leant down a little and fiercely grasped my shoulders. A scream stuck in my throat. After his hands began caressing me, I went numb. I lay without making a sound as he raped me.
I stared above, high, high above, away from the bed and my room and the house. My eyes were glassy, stunned – but I didn’t cry. Somewhere inside I was sobbing and screaming. I was bleeding and a part of me slowly turned away and withered.
The numbness slipped over my body, I didn’t feel the pain, I didn’t feel his forceful violation. It was quick, and afterwards he smiled. As I lay there, not moving, he smiled and met my unblinking gaze. The triumph in those calculating eyes chilled me – he had won. Silently, he left.
Still I didn’t cry. I lay still for so long, with my breathing so shallow, I remember wondering if I was dead – I didn’t feel alive.
It was hours later when I felt my skin crawling with disgust and fear. The numbness had faded, and I cried so hard I couldn’t see. I felt dirty, filthy. But I was trembling too violently to move; to have a shower.
I laid there trembling, until the dim light of morning crept over me, and then I got up and silently dressed. When I went downstairs, Clive didn’t look at me – and I avoided mum’s eyes. I was too ashamed to say a word; now that I felt so dirty.

I closed the photo album and set it down, my hands shaking. Clive had only raped me that one time, and I had never told anyone, not even mum. I had always blamed myself, believed I had enticed him to do what he did that night. I picked up the photo again, and ripped it in half. I kept ripping until only tiny, odd-shaped squares of Clive were left. I realise now; remembering, that what he did was not my fault. I was fifteen, and vulnerable. Clive took advantage of that in the worst way possible – he stole my dignity and shattered my trust. I became a victim who suffered not just through that night, but through years of self hatred, guilt and fear that there was something undeniably wrong with me.
As I sat there, so many years later, I finally stopped feeling at fault. I cried silently as I realised I didn’t have to feel guilty anymore.

[Blank Verse]

Congratulations...

I still think VHA sounds like some sort of STD.

[anhedonia]

Thanks :D.

So what did we think of it? :confused2

[Jan]

Very well done :biggrin2:

And could be an argument in the anti abortion thread :cry2:

[anhedonia]

Originally posted by Jan
Very well done :biggrin2:

Thanks! :D:D:D *pleased Jan liked it* :o

[Moonman]

that was really deep. Well done. 11/10.

[Weapon]

VHA = Very Huge --- :D and no meow dont point to ur damn sig :angry2:

[anhedonia]

Originally posted by Themanonthemoon
that was really deep. Well done. 11/10.

Aww, thanks...:o

My teacher was really concerned; she said to me, "I sincerely hope this isn't a true story?"...And she said it disturbed her.