I can’t do this anymore. I want to tell someone what he’s doing to me, what he’s been doing to me for months, but I can’t. So I just let it go, keep it all inside, Except for on here, because here, no one can tell me It doesnt matter.
“Hello?” I found it odd that my phone had rung, at first I thought I had set a timer of some sort, because no one ever calls me.
“Hi Violet, want to hang out?”
I almost about dropped the phone, because I didn’t want to ever hear his voice again. It was bad enough I had to see him every day at school, the memories of what he’d previously done weighing on my mind, taking me back to that horrible night when he took from me what I had before guarded with such ferocity.
“I guess so, I’m at home”. I looked at my little brother in the other room, playing diligently with his race cars, alone. I knew how much he liked Ricky, the way Ricky would pick him up, swoop him around the room, play drums with him, he was like the older brother he didn’t have. My older brother liked him as well, it was hard for him to make friends but with Ricky it was a breeze, they got along like they had known each other for years. Even my mother liked him, and it’s hard for my mother to like anyone I bring around, he’s polite to her and talks like an adult. I can’t bring myself to take that sort of person away from my family, even if he’s just pretending. I can’t break their hearts, even though he breaks more then mine.
We went to a park, he had a friend with him, a boy I’ve known as Tim. I was comforted by the fact that he had brought someone else along, I thought that he wouldn’t try anything with his friend in the car. How wrong I was…
“Tim, you should go over there”.
I clapsed my hands in my lap as Tim immediately got out of the car, jogging over to the other side of the park and pulling out a cigarette.
I wanted to puke just thinking about the lung killers.
“Why is Tim leaving?” I asked. My whole body was shaking and I was trying really hard not to show how scared I actually was.
“So I can do this”, he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me in close to him, pressing his mouth against mine.
I shook him off, “Come on Ricky, I should be getting home?”
He kept kissing me, his lips traveling down, “What’s wrong? You weren’t protesting the first time”.
I bit my lower lip, he was laying me down in the front seat, using his shirt as a pillow so I wouldnt hit my head on the window. How thoughtful.
I was desperately looking for a reason for why I didn’t want too, he was right about before, I hadn’t shown too much protest. Just enough to make what he was doing was wrong, but I had been to scared to keep screaming.
“You don’t have a condom, it’s not a good idea, GET OFF”.
He already had his boxers pulled down and I tried to push him off, but he pressed his hands against my arms, restraining me.
It hurt so much, I began to cry, the hot tears rand down me cheeks as he did what he wanted, what he couldn’t live without.
“Ricky, stop, please!”
“Why are you crying, stop it”.
I tried to stop, but the tears kept coming, even though I was afraid he was going to hurt me if I didn’t stop, that maybe he couldn’t see me cry because that would give him a conscious, make him feel guilty for doing this to me, even though all I wanted was for him to feel guilty and to leave me be.
I would tell someone, I’ve thought about it, the police or a teacher, even my mother, but I can’t do that to Ricky. As much as I hate him and the way he makes me feel (useless and dirty) I couldn’t ruin his life like that, send him to jail for what he’s doing. He is only a child, and although I know he knows right from wrong, I don’t think his brain really sees it as wrong, and that must mean something is wrong with him, maybe something happened to him as a child, I don’t know. Still, needless to say I can relate.
I just can’t believe this happened to me…AGAIN.