the floor falls out
and I go deeper and someone throws
me a bouquet.

“this is useless,” I yell.

not quite charming girl,
she bellows from above.
be careful what you say. 

the floor falls out
and I go deeper.
I once died in a well
in the middle of the woods
and no one ever found me.

my name was catarina kacrek.
somewhere around Czechoslovakia
but another place altogether.
a place with no name,
a different territory.
we were wanderers.
nomads.
I was a child
when they came for us,
attacked.
three men led me to the middle of the woods
in the snow and raped me
and threw me down a well.

the last thing I heard before I closed
my eyes was may you
get your revenge or
may you die trying.
someone throws me a bouquet.

“tell me how to forgive,” I say.

the floor falls out
and I go deeper.

“the story about catarina kacyrek”