Alice Walker

DEAR GOD,
I am fourteen years old. I am I have always been a good girl. Maybe you can give me a sign letting me know what is happening to me.

Can’t you see I’m already half dead

When I start to hurt and then my stomach start moving and then that little baby come out my pussy chewing on it fist you could have knock me over with a feather.

She ast me bout the first one Whose it is? I say God’s. I don’t know no other man or what else to say.

He took it. He took it while I was sleeping. Kilt it out there in the woods. Kill this one too, if he can.

He never had a kine word to say to me. Just say You gonna do what your mammy wouldn’t.

When that hurt, I cry. He start to choke me, saying You better shut up and git used to it.
But I don’t never git used to it.

I got breasts full of milk running down myself.

He say Why don’t you look decent? Put on something. But what I’m sposed to put on? I don’t have nothing.

I keep hoping he fine somebody to marry. I see him looking at my little sister. She scared. But I say I’ll take care of you. With God help.