The knock was unexpected.
I was watching "Boyz N Da Hood" on a very grainy VHS and wasn't expecting company. I'd sneak boys into the small basement apartment before but lately I wasn't in the mood for boys with their anxious hands pawing all over me, with open mouth kisses lacking coordination as they tried to feel up my shirt.
Oh, it was him.
He was a young man, eighteen, maybe nineteen. High School graduate. He was moonlighting as a mechanic.
Mom took a liking to him. She always took a liking to the wrong men.
I liked his physique. He was lean and chiseled; the build of a young man who is used to hard labor. I was attracted to him, but not enough to do much about it. Besides, he had a girlfriend who was in her early twenties. There was no competing with a young woman when you are a fifteen year old girl with a mild crush.
She sent me to his house to give him some money for some work he began to do on her car. I stood on the stoop and rang the doorbell. He opened the door promptly as if he were sitting on the other side just waiting for me to deliver the cash. His chest was carved with indentations of skin that yield mounds of muscles in all of the right places. There was a scar on his chest, I can't recall where exactly but it was a keloid. It's thick ropey appearance seemed out of place on an otherwise flawless chest. I made my best attempt not to stare, but his form was unlike the gangly frame that I'd grown accustomed to on teen boys purusing the school hallways.
He cast a grin in my direction. Was he flirting? I wasn't sure. I just smiled back at him instead of overthinking it. I walked away with a smirk. Maybe he thought I was cute too.
One day he was driving to a friends house and I was coming back from the bodega. He asked if I wanted to take the ride with him and I opted to accompany him. I was very flirtatious and he was easy going, but seemed to be enjoying my teasing. That's the problem with teasing; you're dangling a deer over a lion's mouth.
After our car ride, I decided I didn't really like him. He wasn't fun. He was too quiet and aside from a great body, his face wasn't anything to go home and tell Mom about. He was average and extraordinary is what held my attention.
He began to take my mother to work and pick her up as he fixed her car. He was taking longer than usual and decided to keep her business by easing the inconvenience. She worked in Long Island. We lived about 25 minutes away in Queens. She worked form 3pm to 11pm.
The knock was unexpected.
I was watching "Boyz N Da Hood" on a very grainy VHS and wasn't expecting company. I'd sneak boys into the small basement apartment before but lately I wasn't in the mood for boys with their anxious hands pawing all over me, with open mouth kisses lacking coordination as they tried to feel up my shirt.
Oh, it was him.
I asked him what he needed. I hadn't seen or spoken with him in over a week since the car ride. I hadn't thought of him either. He said he needed tools for the car. I being naive and clueless on standard tools vs. tools used for automobile repair invited him in. I handed him a large bag of tools and told him to take what he needs.
I walked away from him and left him to his task while I continued my movie. He sat next to me and asked me what I was watching. I told him. It wasn't long before he went in for a kiss. I kissed him. I didn't care for it. I was ready for him to go. The issue was, he wouldn't leave. I dropped every cue that I preferred my solitude but he didn't seem to get the message. Maybe he didn't care.
About 10 minutes later he was at it again. He began kissing me more forcefully as if he could will me into an amorous mood. It was then that I began to push him away and turn my head. His unwelcomed company within my home became an unwelcomed tour of my body. He hiked my shirt up. He pushed my bra to the side. He began to bite me, put hickeys on me and pull down my pants. I fought. I told him to stop. He didn't listen. Maybe he didn't care. He had several rings. They were all formed into designer brands. Jaggedly shaped symbols of various designers set in 5k gold were placed inside of my body. It was as if I wasn't even in the room. I felt like a witness to my own violation. I wasn't present and he didn't need me to be. I tried to knee him in the groin and he easily straddled against my knees, holding them down.
I'm going to do it to you. I'm going to do it to you.
He repeat himself over and over again. I didn't know if he was informing me of is intention or telling me that maybe he had done this before and now he was going to do it to me. I was the next victim.
Eventually, I just laid there. I was his and my desire to be had no influence on him at all. He didn't need me to like it. He was unfazed by my protests. He easily overpowered me when I attempted to fight. I gave up. He was stronger, and I was helpless.
I turned my head as he continued to violate me. I gazed at the clock wondering when he would finally leave. Then- it came to me. I reminded him that he had to pick my mom up from work. He looked at the clock, and cursed. Then he got up, put on his shirt that he somehow managed to rip off in his abusive passion, and left the house.
It was that easy.
He ran out of time.
My mind set me free.
I went the bathroom and ran the shower. I looked in the mirror at the bite marks and hickeys that were all over my chest. He spared my neck. I guess he knew not to leave evidence. Maybe he just didn't like biting necks. I touched the tender spots on my wrists that were quickly bruising. Two neat circles were reminders of where his thumbs and forefingers held fast to each wrist. Tattooed reminders of what he did to me made me angry. I was enraged by all that just happened. The familiar knot that tightens in your throat came fast. I went into the shower and cried. Mom came home and I stayed in there and kept crying. The sound of the water hitting against my skin and the shower curtain would drown out my sniffling.
When I came out of the bathroom, she asked me how my day was.
I said it was fine.
Oh, it was him.
I asked him what he needed. I hadn't seen or spoken with him in over a week since the car ride. I hadn't thought of him either. He said he needed tools for the car. I being naive and clueless on standard tools vs. tools used for automobile repair invited him in. I handed him a large bag of tools and told him to take what he needs.
I walked away from him and left him to his task while I continued my movie. He sat next to me and asked me what I was watching. I told him. It wasn't long before he went in for a kiss. I kissed him. I didn't care for it. I was ready for him to go. The issue was, he wouldn't leave. I dropped every cue that I preferred my solitude but he didn't seem to get the message. Maybe he didn't care.
About 10 minutes later he was at it again. He began kissing me more forcefully as if he could will me into an amorous mood. It was then that I began to push him away and turn my head. His unwelcomed company within my home became an unwelcomed tour of my body. He hiked my shirt up. He pushed my bra to the side. He began to bite me, put hickeys on me and pull down my pants. I fought. I told him to stop. He didn't listen. Maybe he didn't care. He had several rings. They were all formed into designer brands. Jaggedly shaped symbols of various designers set in 5k gold were placed inside of my body. It was as if I wasn't even in the room. I felt like a witness to my own violation. I wasn't present and he didn't need me to be. I tried to knee him in the groin and he easily straddled against my knees, holding them down.
I'm going to do it to you. I'm going to do it to you.
He repeat himself over and over again. I didn't know if he was informing me of is intention or telling me that maybe he had done this before and now he was going to do it to me. I was the next victim.
Eventually, I just laid there. I was his and my desire to be had no influence on him at all. He didn't need me to like it. He was unfazed by my protests. He easily overpowered me when I attempted to fight. I gave up. He was stronger, and I was helpless.
I turned my head as he continued to violate me. I gazed at the clock wondering when he would finally leave. Then- it came to me. I reminded him that he had to pick my mom up from work. He looked at the clock, and cursed. Then he got up, put on his shirt that he somehow managed to rip off in his abusive passion, and left the house.
It was that easy.
He ran out of time.
My mind set me free.
I went the bathroom and ran the shower. I looked in the mirror at the bite marks and hickeys that were all over my chest. He spared my neck. I guess he knew not to leave evidence. Maybe he just didn't like biting necks. I touched the tender spots on my wrists that were quickly bruising. Two neat circles were reminders of where his thumbs and forefingers held fast to each wrist. Tattooed reminders of what he did to me made me angry. I was enraged by all that just happened. The familiar knot that tightens in your throat came fast. I went into the shower and cried. Mom came home and I stayed in there and kept crying. The sound of the water hitting against my skin and the shower curtain would drown out my sniffling.
When I came out of the bathroom, she asked me how my day was.
I said it was fine.
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