TW FOR R*PE. DISCRETION WHILE READING ADVISED.
oh, medusa! they cry, so pretty before she did the unspeakable, oh medusa! they sing, so pure and so favoured before she submitted!
they do not know that medusa is still beautiful, that her cowrie shell voice which sang hymns for her goddess has now been wept out onto salty sand. they do not know that medusa is still pure, because they do not know that a woman’s virtue does not exist between her thighs, they do not know.
oh, poseidon, says medusa quietly, her voice with quivering rage, you are foolish. strike me down, i do not care. for what more can you do to me? kill me? i am not afraid.
poseidon, hear my message and be scared. when you raped me, did you know that you flung me around like a cloth toy? poseidon, you have no regard for women you desire. i was just another plaything. another pretty trophy you can mount on your wall. another war you won.
to all this i say no.
poseidon, i will not be used and thrown away, left to collect dust in the back of your cupboard. i am not a toy. i will not be quiet and submissive. to whomever listens, they will hear my song of rage. when you send another man to kill me for this insult, if i see him, the last sounds he shall hear are my snarls.
poseidon, i am not a trophy. i will not mount myself on your wall and stay there like a prize you can parade around boasting about. of course, i know this will not stop you from doing so. there will be parties and cotillions, and i will be reduced to another fireplace story that you tell when you have had too much wine. you will tell the story to the wide eyed youth and paint me as consenting, and they will grow up like you, with murder in their hearts and carelessness in their actions. and i swear that they will have iron backed women who spit in their face and make them out for the bastards they are. i swear it, poseidon.
poseidon, i am not a war you won. how could i be? how can it be a war, poseidon, when one side does not know that the other will attack?
poseidon, i know that gods and goddesses are fickle. they forget. but i will make sure you do not. i will haunt you in your dreams, in this form which is called hideous and ugly, i will appear in your dreams, the woman they laugh at and call powerless, and i will show you, only you, the true power i possess, poseidon. and gods, they may forget. but i know that youth will not, and i know that one day monsters like you will be ruined by the innocent girls you raped, just like you ruined us. i hope that you then realize the havoc i will wreak on you. many centuries later, poseidon, they will tell my story right. and you will be a shameless rapist in their eyes, as you are in mine. i yearn for those children, those people, poseidon. that’s because they will show you that the real impure one in a rape can only be the rapist. they will show you who has been in control all the time. they are powerful. they are women, after all.
-medusa, part 12 of BRONTIDE