An except inspired by true events from Kira Diaries by JoyfullyMelancholic:
I can't stand being touched. It gives me an uneasy feeling and I flinch and immediately start screaming. There were actually two incidents that caused me to behave this way. The first was when I was in second grade. This third grade boy who hated my guts decided it'd be a good laugh to jump me one day after school. He attacked me from behind by kicking the back of my leg as I made my way out of the school. I fell face first on the blacktop. He then proceeded to kick my stomach and punch me. The kids who haven't left yet formed a circle around us, laughing and pointing. No one tried to stop him, no one tried to help me. I was lying there in a fetal position sobbing because of the pain and the embarrassment. It took ten whole minutes for a teacher to finally come and stop him. I don't actually know what happened after that. I just know I never saw him again after that dreadful day.
The second incident happened in middle school. There was this boy who had a massive crush on me. He literally followed me everywhere. He touched me and groped me in places that made me feel uncomfortable. I kept telling him to stop but he didn't listen. By this time, I was already having trouble with people touching me because of the previous incident. This boy, let's call him Jake, didn't understand the word "no." He threatened to rape me when we were alone in the hallway and I, of course, ran away from him as fast as I could. I knew I had to do something drastic to get him to leave me alone. When I finally had enough of his inappropriate antics, I rejected him in front of a couple dozen students. It was enough for the news to spread. He left me alone after that but he started smoking and getting into fights. Jake got in trouble so many times, he ended up getting himself expelled. I was still one of his victims though. Everyone was convinced he turned out that way because of me, that I "led him on." I could never win. At that moment, I felt like the whole universe had something against me.
For a long time, I believed what people said-that it was my fault. I cried every night and started to hate myself. I felt selfish because other people have gone through worse situations and there I was bawling like a baby because of a few "mistakes" Jake did and because people kept telling me I should give him a "break."
It took me three years for me to tell my mom what happened. When I told her, she brushed it off as if it was no big deal; as if I was no big deal. It was at that moment that I realized that those two incidents that happened to me were never my fault. I didn't do anything to that third grade boy to cause him to pummel me to the ground; and even if I did, he should never have laid a finger on me. It wasn't my fault Jake got expelled. I constantly told him to leave me alone and to stop touching me but he didn't listen. His mentality was what drove him to expulsion.
The only sad part about this whole story is that it took my mother's ignorance for me to realize that it's never the victim's fault. I did nothing wrong.
YOU ARE READING
May 1
Short StoryIssue 1- We all know the struggles with being a teen. Share your stories. Get help. It's hard enough to just get down the basics, why be brought down by whatever else life throws at you?