Machine Guns and Palm Trees

A poem about a girl on Halloween.

He tells her to pick up the knife
I won't, she says
I need you to learn, he tells her
It's too horrible! she protests
Do it now! he says

Hands shaking,
she picks up the knife
She doesn't trust herself
What if I cut myself? she thinks

Now, he says, cut into the lines
I'll hurt him! she says
Do as I say! he yells
She gently pushes the knife into the skin
Hurry up! he orders
I can't do it! she cries
I don't care! he says
I'm sorry, she whispers

The knife goes in
There's a horrible crack
She stops

Go on! he bellows
It's oozing! she screams
You've seen it before! he retorts
I was never this close! she says

He takes the knife from her hand and
finishes the rest
He's sawing and slicing
It's oozing and squirting

He finishes
He's covered in sweat
Among other things

Hand me a towel, he orders
She does as he says
He wipes off his face

Time to clean it out, he says
I can't put my hands in there, she tells him
You can't do anything, can you? he sneers
I'll get squeamish, she explains
He hands her a bucket
That's disgusting, she says
DO IT NOW! he screams

She starts the gutting
She feels light headed
Her hands are covered
They're wet and sticky
She sways
Holds her head in her hands
She gets the residue on her face
She wipes frantically
She's crying

Give me that! her father, annoyed
Like you've never seen this before! Acting foolish is what you're doing
I couldn't get it off! she cries

He glares at her
Go wash up and I'll clean this mess you've made, he tells her

She gets to the sink
Thoroughly cleans her hands
Hot water
Soap
Hard scrub
Clean
Good

She goes to her room
She sits on the bed
She thinks of all the things
She can do
She can cook
She can clean
She can feed the pigs
She can herd the sheep
She can do all the things her
mother taught her to do

She lets the night wash over her
When will this go away? she thinks to herself
When can I tell him what happened?
She thinks about this for a while, knowing that
the only thing she can't do
The only thing she won't do is
Cut Open a Pumpkin

Author's Note

I wrote this on Halloween, so... Happy Belated (or early) Halloween!