My Friend is not Shy

My friend is not shy,
she's loud and nice.
She's not really the soul of the party,
She's just all right.
She's one more of the girls,
nothing different about her taste,
her big boobs overlook from the balcony of her dress,
her miniskirt frames her long fake tanned legs.

Sheila is not really especially good at a particular thing,
just one more for the lads,
just one more for the fun.
Our girls' nights out are almost compulsory,
once a month,
the kids at grandma's,
and for us
silly dancing,
crazy flirting,
not much more.

Last November,
something changed,
the second became a date
to paint in her calendar.
Sheila blew the candles,
thirty five,
drunk and shouted until late.

About two o'clock
she lost her sense,
friends had filled the house,
the wine was travelling around.
Darkness overcame her.

A foreign hand took her waist,
guided her to another place,
which looked strangely unfamiliar to her.

Nobody noticed her absence.
The music was too loud,
the laughs too rough.

When she came round,
a man's arm was holding her hips.

Back and forward,
back and forward,
back and forward,
violently.

The same tune sounded no stop
in her brain,
"don't move girl!"
"don't move love!"

She got rid of him,
went upstairs looking for an empty bed.
She lay on the carpet,
her hands cold like ice,
her legs heavy,
a metallic taste in her tongue,
a strange smell around.

She woke up at five o'clock,
in pain,
thick fingers holding her breast,
a man behind her.

She pushed him back,
softly,
shyly,
in shame.

He powerfully held her,

Up and down!
Up and down!
Up and down!

Passionately...
Passionately?

"I don't know whether it happened or not!"
she said,
"I didn't say yes, but I didn't say no!"
"I don't remember wanting it!"
"I don't remember meeting him!"
Actually,
I don't want to remember anything!"

The police called it date rape.
Sheila stopped partying and became the perfect full time mum.
Nobody else cared.

The man,
free,
invisible,
like a ghost in the night,
searching for his next prey
to strike again.