One beautiful sunny morning, life as I knew it headed in a totally different direction, one that led me down a path that to this day continues to haunt me.
My parents were at work, and Lee had taken Devon down to the park to the local swimming pool. It was really hot in the house, so around noon, I went out and sat on the front porch. Someone nearby must have been cooking greens that day, because I remember the smell of collards drifting in the air, and it made me hungry.
You know, it amazes me that something can happen in one day—not over the passage of weeks or even months—just one single day can have the power to change someone’s life forever. A big red Buick sped down the street, full of some kids that I recognized from the other side of town. I wondered where they could have gotten such a nice new car from, because I had never seen it before. Those whitewall tires from the car kicked up the dust from the street, as they were going so fast.
Just after they passed my house, I saw someone headed in my direction from the end of my block. At that moment, a huge bumblebee had me in its sight, but I managed to shoo it away with my hand. I squinted into the sunny, hazy day, and flashes of light glinted off the chrome bumpers of cars parked along the street, as I tried to bring the image into focus. Shielding the sun from my eyes with my hand, I was able to make out the figure now heading my way. It was a young man that I recognized from our neighborhood, named Walter, whom they called Wadean, walking on the opposite side of the street from my house.
As he got closer, he crossed the street, came over to where I was sitting on my porch, and began a friendly conversation with me. He was a tall and muscular young man, with dark skin and a well-manicured, government-issued crew cut. He told me he was only here for a short while because he was on his way to New Orleans for some Navy business he had to handle in order to get his discharge papers.
In a deep, monotone voice, he said, “It sho’ is hot out here today. Could I trouble you for a glass of water?”
I replied, “Sure.” Then I got up from the porch and headed straight for the kitchen.
I was 15 years old, and very naïve to the ways of the world, especially concerning men. I didn’t realize that he had come in the house right behind me. Although I didn’t know he was there, I could feel his steely-eyed gaze from behind. I assumed that he would just wait on the porch for me to come back with his water; but once I made my way to the kitchen, ran the water and turned around, he was right there, standing practically nose to nose with me.
I remember how shocked I was—that he was not only in the house, but that he was close enough to me that if he wanted to, he could have leaned slightly forward and kissed me. He didn’t kiss me, though. He just stood there for a little while looking at me. I felt so strange, like a deer caught in headlights.
We were both silent for a while. Then I uttered the words, “Walter, what are you doing in here?” At that moment, a sense of dread washed over me.
He suddenly held me at arm’s length and just looked me up and down, like I was a piece of meat. I knew right then that this man had dark plans for me.
Again I asked, “What are you doing in here?”It was all I was able to force from my mouth. But he didn’t say a word. He just kept staring at me with a deranged look in his eyes. He grabbed me tight with his powerful hands and forced me into my parents’ bedroom, which was adjacent to the kitchen. I tried to make a dash for the door, but he had anticipated my retreat and beat me to the spot.
With tremendous force, he shoved me against the wall to the right of the door. Then, with one of his enormous hands, he pinned my neck to the wall.
“Don’t move,” was all he said. With his free hand, he swooped underneath my dress and got hold of my panties, then yanked them off forcibly. He ripped them clean from my body, as if I were wearing a diaper.
Then he threw me on my parents’ bed and I landed with a firm-sounding whomp. My head banged against the headboard and tears began to stream down the sides of my face, pooling on the insides of my ears. I tried to struggle only for a moment, until he wrapped both hands this time around my neck and squeezed till all the fight had left my body. Next, he lifted my skirt, and then I heard the sound of his zipper as he quickly tugged it down.
When I felt him penetrate me, there was a moment afterwards that I lost all feeling in my body. I struggled to say, “Get off of me,” as I gasped breathlessly, while trying in vain to squirm my petite body out of this awkward position. But Walter would not stop what he was doing, nor pay any attention to me in the least.
I squealed, “I want my mama.” I squawked, “My Daddy will shoot you!” Almost breathless, I then said, “Please! Stop this! This is wrong! Get out of our house!”
But my words fell on deaf ears, because Walter kept right on with his business as if I had consented to what he was doing to me.
I felt, for a moment, that I wasn’t even there. Then it all came rushing back, only this time, the pain was much more intense, and I knew that all this was really happening. He was breathing so hard, he sounded like a big bull. I thought he was having some sort of an attack.
I remember the weight of his body on top of mine; I simply couldn’t move while he was there. The pain that I felt while he was inside me was beyond words. I had never known of anything that could hurt that bad. An awful sensation shot through my whole body.
He had his way with me, right there on my parents’ bed. To this day, this really hurts my feelings, that he desecrated my parents’ bed. All I could do, at that time, was stare at the ceiling in my parents’ room, and wish for the nightmare to end.
I can’t remember all the details of what really happened, because I was so scared of what he’d do to me if I made any noise or tried to fight him back, so I just lay there.
I really was in a state of shock. It seemed as if I were temporarily paralyzed. I drowned in an ocean of thought, wondering, how can I get out of this situation? But there was no escape for me: I’ve been raped.
Once he had finished, he just got up off of me and stood there for a minute, and declared, “I’ll kill you and your family if you ever tell anyone.”
Next, he nonchalantly zipped up his pants and went into the bathroom to remove the condom that I didn’t know he had on. Afterwards, he strolled out the front door just as easily as he had come in. He had obviously already plotted to do this act. He had been on the lookout for a victim, and I was an easy target.
It wasn’t until years later that I realized Wadean was a pedophile. He had a fetish for young girls; and the older he got, the more intense it grew and the more he desired them.
After the door closed, all I could do was shut my eyes tight, as microscopic white specks of light flickered. I remember thinking they looked like little twinkling stars right before my eyes. The reason I couldn’t recall screaming or resisting at all was because I realized that I hadn’t screamed or resisted. All that yelling I did actually only took place inside my head. To my own surprise, I had temporarily lost the ability to speak. I just shut down.
The only words that I do remember saying to him out loud were, “Walter, what are you doing in here?”
I really had believed that I had tried to fight him off, and tried to scream; but the truth was, I was scared and as silent as a mute during the entire time that he raped me. The world around me, and all of its inhabitants changed into an enormous tomb, and for the longest time, there was nothing but silence, except for the constant pounding of my heart.
(Please note: Some names have be changed to protect the inocent.)
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