Truth Be Told

Rag Doll

2 pm 

09/30/3023

I've heard about bad things happening to other people. Usually it's through the news; however, I never thought the things they advertise on the news would happen to someone like me. I'm a nobody, but maybe that's why it happened. 

I met him at age 12. I was just starting Junior High, and he was in almost all my classes. I thought he was the biggest jerk as he gave all the substitute teacher and other kids a hard time. And I liked him for all the wrong reasons. I could see right through that "tough guy" act he'd put on during school. I could see the hurt in his eyes, and how vulnerable he actually was. He gave me attention, and I wanted to fix him. 

He told me about his mom. How she cheated on his dad and abandoned them for drugs. I really felt for him and his family. They went through a lot.  He wanted to feel something, the entire reason why he gave me his attention in the first place. I gave it back to him. I wanted to be loved,  and accepted, and to be liked by literally anybody. I obviously didn't care who it was. 

I was allowed to come to his house only if his dad was there. His dad didn't give a shit about what we were doing or where we went. He had interest in one thing and one thing only: video games. They lived in a townhouse. All the bedrooms, a bathroom, and laundry unit were upstairs while the kitchen, living room, and half bath were downstairs. We entering his room when he "accidentally" tripped me and locked the door behind him. Not that his dad was going to come up here and check if the room was locked. He was too preoccupied. James turned around and started to pull my pants and underwear down. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. This was not the kind of attention I longed for. Of course I said no, and of course I told him to stop, and of course it hurt. All he said was to stop struggling and I would feel better. I started to cry. He got frustrated with my whaling and shoved a hat in my face telling me to cry into that. So I did, and it smelt like sweat and his cologne. 

When he was finished with me, he told his dad I was ready to go home. The entire car ride home was heavy with silence even though Nirvana was blasted through the speakers. My parents asked me how my first time over there went. I told them it went fine, and went straight to my room. The second the door shut, I fell to the floor and balled. I could feel his fingerprints, itchy like bugs, all over my body. I felt like a dirty rag doll ready to be tossed in the garbage. I was filled with so much shame and disgust with myself that every time I took a shower I washed myself until my skin bled. It was a reoccurring event. I cannot count on my fingers how many times this had happened. And I have never felt safe or pleased in my own skin since. 

*Will continue to publish on Monday 10/2/2023