Confession, I have a friend that was violated by a sick, sad soul when she was a teenager; a man who hurt the bodies and spirits of many other women and girls. I, personally, have filed multiple restraining orders against men. I do not trust male strangers. I hold my head up high and walk with purpose whenever I am outdoors to ward off any possible predators. I do not consider myself a victim, but I am very aware of who is around me, how they are acting, and what they say to me (if they speak to me). I sometimes think to myself that I'm more at risk simply because I'm small (short and thin), easier to overpower, more like a girl than a woman.
I dropped my dog off for his annual check up this morning and returned home to an empty house. I immediately looked behind doors, shut the blinds, and turned on the television to tune out any nagging fears. Irrationally, my ten pound pup makes me feel safe. He's like a little alarm system and despite his diminutive size, he guards the house well.
I know I should put my trust in the Lord to keep me safe and sound, but hearing about what
John Gardner did to those poor girls has sent me into an emotional tailspin. I have been feeling this heightened awareness since Chelsea King first went missing and it has not abated since. I feel for their families, I feel for their friends...and I simply cannot be moved to feel for John Gardner, which puzzles me because I know
an incredible woman who has learned to turn a negative into a positive, who stands to face her fears every day and rises above them...and I still, still can't break free of these feelings of hate and anger. We toss around the word "fair" as if justice has anything to do with evil. Our lips speak from our hearts before they derive wisdom from our seeking souls. We divulge, sting, and finally retract in order to get the upper hand, if only for a minute or two.
I remember the investigation of my palm print in hopes of finding him.
I hear her friends singing her favorite song.
I see him cry and I don't care.
