Captive
The first time to tell my story is a fright.
I’m the special speaker at A. A. tonight.
My sponsor says it will be alright.
As I start my story I’m a little uptight.
For me it started in my teenage years.
No, not drinking or drugs. Not even beer.
I was a straight girl. Nothing less.
I was a virgin, as you might guess.
It happened as I was walking home.
I was grabbed from behind. I was alone.
I was thrown into the back of a van.
I was given chloroform by the man.
When I awoke I was locked in a room.
Mattress on the floor there in the gloom.
Bars on the window. The door was locked.
A bucket in the corner to use as a pot.
After awhile, the man came into the room.
“You’re my sex slave” said the goon.
I remember my thoughts as he stripped me bare.
What will I tell my teddy bear??
That first time hurt so bad I prayed he would stop.
Finally he got up. I was glued to the spot.
No sooner had he left than another came in.
Then the whole thing started again.
I won’t go into detail what all they did to me.
Let your imagine run wild, then you might see.
After almost a month the police broke in.
They took me from that house of sin.
To me, it seemed like a year or more.
I was frozen to my very core.
I have been asked how I survived.
It was a miracle I was even alive.
All I remember to fill the void.
I became an organic robitoid.
I went through the motions they said to do.
Inside I thought— I am dead to you.
I had no emotional response.
A machine, moving only to their taunts.
Months of therapy didn’t help my gloom.
I lived with my parents, mostly in my room.
I rarely came out. I hated crowds.
I ate in my room. Often I cried out loud.
My dad gave me some wine once with dinner.
He said “Deep inside I know you’re a winner.”
I felt a little better after a drink or two.
Then I knew exactly what I’d do.
There was a liquor store near the house.
I would sneak out quiet as a mouse.
Cover myself up good with clothes.
All you could see was just my nose.
I was soon buying wine by the case.
Hiding the empties all over the place.
After 2-3 bottles of wine a day,
things seemed to be, almost, o.k.
Then, one day, while watching TV
It was like they were talking about me.
It was a program about alcohol abuse.
I was killing myself just to feel loose.
I said no,— I could stop if I wanted to.
So I told myself no to the booze.
Soon, I was shaking and sick as hell.
I told my folks I didn’t feel well.
I confessed all my drinking to them.
Asked them to take me to detox then.
I detoxed and started in a program.
Got a sponsor and said I’d show them.
I stayed sober and worked the steps.
Now, I’m telling all, how my life was a mess.
How I was captive of my own devices.
But, now, I really know what nice is.
I’d been captive to a sick sexual nut.
It was hard, but, I got out of that rut.
To sum it up as to what it means to me.
Thank God. Now I am finally free!!
A quiet hush fell over the place.
There was hardly a dry eye in the place.
As I stepped down everyone did clap
People were hugging me and patting my back.
I felt welcome. I felt loved.
I give all thanks to God above————–R. W. Johnson——(2011)