Kin

by Kealan Patrick Burke

It wouldn't matter if between now and her time of discharge they discovered a cure for rape, a way to give a sexually abused woman back her dignity, and in Claire's case, her virginity, the fact was that the violence had been done, its impact irreversible, and some vital part of her had been destroyed in the process, a part of her she hadn't known existed until it was stolen.

A stone dropped in a pond, Claire thought, forever making ripples. And it would never stop. There was no bank for it to break against. Instead, like a shockwave, it would continue on until there was no one left to feel it.

Living is hard; Death is easy. And there are no answers on either side.

The sorrow was worse because it came unbidden, and unlike the anger, which demanded action, pain, a release of any kind, sorrow asked nothing but for him to just be still while it spread through him like a cancer and drained his resolve, his will to do anything but sleep and feel sorry for himself.