Game of Memories

Beach

That summer before my senior year, I suddenly felt like I had become a woman. It seemed like the transformation happened overnight. I went to bed hoping for curves and woke up with them in all the right spots. Of course, it wasn't that quick. It was a gradual change, but when I realized my clothes no longer fit my new shape, I was excited.

Until my uncle's already uncomfortable attention somehow got worse.

And then my whole life changed.

With not much to do during the long, hot summer, I spent a day at the beach until sunset, soaking up the sun in my new bikini. It was a tight fit, barely covering me, but teenage me thought it was fun to show off, even if no one was around to see it. You know that saying-if you've got it, flaunt it. That's exactly what I did. If I had known my uncle would stalk me, I would've dressed differently. I would've stayed as covered as possible. Honestly, I wouldn't have caught in such a vulnerable position if I'd known he would show up.

Lying face down on the blanket I had spread over the sand, my back exposed and wearing only my bikini, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sunset. I was completely startled by my uncle suddenly appearing beside me. Half asleep, my body instantly tensed in panic, and my eyes snapped open. Suddenly, my uncle's hand was covering my mouth, and his body was pressed firmly on top of mine. My eyes filled with tears as an overwhelming urge to scream and vomit rose from my stomach to my throat, only to be silenced by the hand tightly covering my face. I couldn't believe what was happening and silently pleaded for someone to appear and help me. My uncle held me down tightly, his weight on top of me preventing my body from moving a single inch. His hot breath was ragged against my bare skin as he breathed heavily, the scent of alcohol rolling off him in waves.

I didn't understand why he had been drinking, he was supposed to be at work. However, figuring that out was not my main concern at the moment.

He ground his groin against my lower half as he groaned lowly in my ear, his other hand releasing the strings on my bikini top to expose my breasts. I could feel his hardening length through his pants as he rubbed roughly against me. The fingers of one hand dug greedily into the flesh of my breast, his other hand stayed pressed firmly over my mouth, preventing me from crying out or alerting anyone—though it was unlikely anyone would come to this spot at this time.

I tried to scream, but it was entirely useless. My voice was muffled by the hand aggressively squeezing my face. He tightened his grip on my cheeks in warning as I struggled beneath him, desperately trying to get away. I attempted to push him off me, but he was far more powerful than I was. He was so much stronger. My uncle kept me totally under his control by allowing more of his weight to rest upon my body as I trembled in fear beneath him. My eyes were clouded with tears that soon blurred my vision. I could taste the salty droplets as they seeped under his fingers that covered my lips. I kept fighting, determined not to surrender to whatever twisted intentions he had for me.

I wiggled as much as I could, trying to escape, but I think it unfortunately only increased my uncle's pleasure at the moment, having my body moving against his, the fact that I wasn't enjoying it at all didn't seem to phase him. My uncle hissed when I finally managed to scratch his arm with my nails, then immediately stopped groping my breast to pin my hands above my head. I choked on my sobs as I cried violently, wondering what I had done to be attacked like this by my own family. I was thankful, however, that I wasn't able to hear the disgusting words he was saying to me as he violated me, his voice drowned out by my crying.

Luckily, before things could go any further, someone's voice distracted uncle from what he was doing. He startled at the sound, surprised by an unexpected arrival, My uncle quickly jumped off me, adjusting his prominent arousal in his pants as he attempted to collect himself. My vision was still hazed with tears, but I hurriedly retied my bikini top, desperately wishing I had something more to cover myself with. Honestly, I was almost sure I'd never wear a bikini again after that. When I opened my eyes and saw the person who had saved me, the comfort in his gaze was exactly what I had hoped to find in that moment.

And it will be forever etched in my memory. The image and the feeling will never fade, remaining with me no matter how much time passes.

My mom didn't believe me. Instead, she blamed me after she cheated on my dad, and that led to him leaving for work abroad. She told me it was all a lie. I eventually stopped arguing with her. After Dad left, angering Mom meant even more cruel physical attacks, along with everyday mental abuse. She got so angry that she'd hit me. Most of the rest of that summer, I stayed in my room or went to my nana's house, hiding from the world. Makeup could only cover so much, and it was too hot to wear long clothes to hide my bruises. I didn't want to be seen. I didn't want anyone to know the truth—what I was going through at home, even with nana. That my mother was abusing me.

Even though I stayed locked in my room, I heard the rumors in the neighborhood, gossip saying I had seduced my uncle and caused my dad to leave. Everyone was blaming me.

When senior year started, no one wanted to be near me. All the friends I thought I had turned away. No one wanted to be close to the girl who supposedly ruined her parents' marriage. I became an outcast. I was grateful for the one girl who stayed by me, comforting me like a true sister.

I thought about skipping the funeral to avoid reliving everything, but I couldn't. Nana had been such an important part of my life, and I couldn't let her down. I had to say goodbye.

Walking back to the beach house, my body felt heavy, and it was hard to keep going. The weight of the day was pressing on my chest, and I struggled to hold back tears. Especially when I saw the sunset—it made me think of that day. I shut off my thoughts, not wanting to remember what happened at the funeral home. I didn't want to think about Clyde's face as he watched me break down. I couldn't worry about him right now.

Once I got to my room, I went straight to the shower, hoping the hot water would wash away the memories. I scrubbed myself harder than ever, trying to remove the feeling of the day. I tried to think of good memories with Nana, but it didn't help.

Maybe I shouldn't have come back. After all, I wasn't strong enough to do this.

Dressed in black, I sat at the front of the church with family members. I wondered why that woman wasn't here. If it weren't for Nana, I wouldn't be here, surrounded by people who had turned their backs on me. But my love for Nana was stronger than my anger at them.

The priest went on and on with his usual funeral speech, sometimes mentioning Nana, but it felt too impersonal. I could tell he didn't really know her well. A distant relative gave a eulogy, but it didn't match the woman I knew. I barely managed to hold back my tears, trying to appear stronger than I felt. I didn't want to break down in front of everyone like I had at the funeral home.

After I wiped away some tears, I felt a hand on my back. I turned and saw it was Clyden Vallejo, offering comfort. He looked at me with sadness and curiosity in his eyes. I nodded and mouthed, "Thank you," before turning back to the front. Clyde squeezed my shoulder lightly before pulling away. I couldn't help but feel cold without his touch.

I was so confused. Maybe I was going crazy.

As the service ended and everyone headed to the cemetery, Uncle Miguel's cold stare stayed on me. I told myself it didn't bother me, and I tried to believe it. I stayed at the back of the group, hoping to avoid attention.

Just when I thought I'd be the last one out, someone brushed against my arm. I took a deep breath, ready to face whoever it was. I didn't want to talk to anyone, but I couldn't avoid it.

"I'm really sorry about your grandma, Asha," a hushed voice said. I didn't need to look up to know who it was.

Clyden Vallejo.

"Thanks, Clyde," I whispered, hoping it would end there, that he'd understand I didn't want to talk.

To my surprise, Clyde brushed his hand against mine before gently holding it. "I'm here for you if you need anything, Asha." He meant it.

I nearly melted at the small gesture of kindness. His small actions made me feel accepted. I was so confused. How could something so simple, from someone I hadn't seen in years, mean so much?

I couldn't stop myself from holding Clyde's hand, the warmth of his touch comforting me in a way I hadn't expected.

This was not how I thought today would go.