Julianna Rajkowski

EXORCISM Banished to the centre of Hell. Fire engulfing soul, soul torched before I could understand what that means. Exorcism, no mam I’m sorry your daughter’s too far gone. In utero the tooth fairy shot down. Age 4 Santa no longer existed, Age 5 the carefree innocence taken from me. By age 8 absenteeism was given definition. Stomach aches, tossing milk out the window, no child you have to drink that, you’re growing think of your bones. Age 9 the memories spent upstairs whilst He had his alcohol binges begun. One night, 2 days sober turned to 1:1 ratio. Questions, endless q/a about my Father begun. ‘I wonder what he looks like, where do u live why don’t we ever get to go to your house?’ By the teenage years the fear of talking begun. Question, statement, Fat Boy set off again, blast blasting blasted. But by age 16 you ceased to be the bogeyman, you became the Villain. The incessant gnawing within my skull, the physical tone of your voice, your speech imprinted in my brain. ‘Cunt.’ First and last thing I hear and see at night. Night-time was always the worst. Pressuring, tormenting my eyes to block out the visuals of the day past. Wrinkled forehead from making my face self-constipate, OCD to not remember. Body slowly shutting down, brain chemistry slowly rotting. By age 16 I was seeing a psychologist, age 19 medicated. Memories resurfacing from below the iceberg. A cement exterior, yeah everything’s fine. It’s good. I’m strong. In reality, I’m dying. Sleep used to be a refuge, but you slowly and insidiously infested that too. Nothing is safe, correction, Nothing will ever be safe, correction, Nothing will ever be safe.