sorry not sorry for the rant i'm pissed off woo 1K followers yay
so i am currently well into the eighth grade. i am still in middle school. i go to school with sixth, seventh, and other eighth graders, and the age ranges are about 11-14 years old.
i was walking down the steps to leave school with one of my friends. we were talking about high school results, since those were coming in this week, and it's all we can think about. it's one of those things that when you enter high school, you'll reminisce back and say to yourself "remember that? remember how nervous we all were and wondering if we got into the school we desired? remember how we thought that we'd all fail in life if we didn't get into the top school? haha cool cool good times."
that moment was disrupted by this little sixth grader. he was pushing all of these girls in the crowd and slammed open the doors. with all the chaos he caused, somehow one of my friends got lost in the crowd of people, and that little boy was behind me. i heard girls screaming "ryan! what is wrong with you?" i just tried to walk ahead to get away from everything, because at this point i just wanted to go home.
then i turned around and saw the boy, who i guessed was ryan, and he was reaching for my back. i have this mlp rainbowdash keychain on my backpack, given to me by my little sister, and i like to keep it on there, because i get both genuine reactions like "oh my god my sister loves my little pony!!" and snarky reactions like "wow loser you like my little pony" and i don't know i like those reactions okay. so when the boy reached for my back, my thought was, "oh, he just wants to look at my rainbowdash keychain." but no, it wasn't like that at all.
i took a quick glance at this supposed ryan. he was relatively small, must be in the sixth grade. i didn't know how he caused all that commotion from before. he had brown hair, but i didn't catch his eye color or any other distinct features. i thought i made a mistake, and that wasn't actually ryan.
his young delicate hand didn't reach for my keychain, it went between my back and my backpack, and it started stroking me. the fucking hand was stroking me. i wanted to slap it, but i couldn't the hand was behind my back.
"I like to fondle with women," ryan said in a monotone voice. my first instinct was to run, but there was people in front of me trying to get out of school, and outside was slippery and it wasn't like i could run without getting hurt.
"He likes to fondle with girls," this one girl beside him said while giggling. "All the time."
i was horrified. utterly disgusted that someone so young could have these thoughts already. i didn't know what to say. i was stunned.
the people in front started moving, and ryan stopped "fondling" with me and ran ahead with his airhead of a friend. i started to walk down the outside steps slowly, but it wasn't until ryan was way ahead of me that i yelled "you know, that's rape, and it's not right!"
i doubt that he heard me. i know my friend who was far behind before heard, because she came up beside me and said "Wow, what a disgusting kid that is."
it wasn't until later until i actually truly realized what happened, and that i could have just turned around and kicked him in the nuts to make up for the fact that he fondles with women all the time.
dear ryan: do you fondle your mother like that? your sister? your aunt? your grandmother? your teacher?
dear ryan: what the fuck is your logic behind fondling women and making them uncomfortable?
dear ryan: did you fondle me because you saw me as weak?
dear ryan: do you fondle every girl you see as weak?
dear ryan: do you fondle that girl that was beside you?
dear ryan: do you think you can just get away with this?
dear ryan: do you think i won't bring teachers, the principal, security guards, and maybe your parents into know what you think of women and how you can just touch them however you please?
dear ryan: if we weren't in a public place, would you have gone further?
dear ryan: i will make sure that you and every other fuckboy in this school will never mistreat women or anyone again.
