At eight, I used to read the newspaper aloud.
I read, “A GIRL OF 3 RAPED BY 7.”
My aunt, horrified, said, “Who puts such news in the newspaper, people don’t have sense.”
I searched for the word in the dictionary: dominance / conquest.
I asked my mother to divide my hair into six plates and braid them into two. I was gonna make a fake path at the center of my head, “Lest a bad king with his army might attack my boundaries and break open the gates to poke his flag into my grounds, I may not be dead.”
Later that day, I wept when uncle waved at me his flag, again, and my fake path didn’t work. He knew secret tunnels.
I was the queen of another castle and I couldn’t rescue my grounds. So, now my kingdom must accept or else, the kingdom in…
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