I have a fucking rape whistle.
I take inventory of every detail I can of the men I pass when I’m running by them.
What they’re wearing. What colour hair they have. What their gum smells like. What type of shoes and coat they have on. I actually recite these things in my head as I run by them.
So if it’s necessary to give a description I will be able to do it despite any shock or trauma…hopefully. The smells I take note of might become triggers and help me remember things I might otherwise forget if needed.
I do these things without even thinking about them. It’s just something I do at this point.
As I sit here and have my rape whistle sitting on my coffee table I contemplate all these things in a fraction of seconds when my 8 year old asks me “Why do you need a whistle to run?”
Keep it simple…for now. “In case I get in trouble.”
Originally published at mafasworld.wordpress.com on January 4, 2016.