Entry #5 (Click Here To Read Entry #4)
My mom and I had a pretty decent relationship, but I was a 13 year old girl who thought she knew it all…so we had the usual mother daughter spats and disagreements; mainly over clothes, friends and of course boys. I never have been the super girly type, and I think that’s what my mother wanted. She bought me purses and make up and all the frills that come along with becoming a budding young woman, but none of that stuff stuck. I recall a purse my mom bought me which I hated, but she made me carry it. One day in particular, I left it on the school bus just to show her. I remember my aunt telling my mama that they needed to keep and eye on me because I may turn out to be a dyke. I look back at that now and laugh…at the age of 13 I had no clue what that word even meant.
My 13th year of life was fun. We were still living in that small yellow house. It was an innocent time of playing ball in the streets, walking to school and just being a kid. All of my friends lived around me and we spent the night at each others houses all the time. Of course at 13 years old, boys come into play. I always liked boys, but never the ones that were my age; seemed to me that all the 13 year old boys were too immature for me; so I always ended up “going with” an older boy. There was this one boy that lived around the corner from me who every girl in the neighborhood wanted to be with. His name was Broderick and he rode the coolest red BMX bicycle. He had a caramel complexion and deep wavy neck length hair. Broderick of course was about 2 years older than all of us and he knew that the girls all liked him. One summer day we were all outside and it was about dusk. A storm had blew in a few days before and knocked down a fairly large tree. We all were sitting on the tree playing and talking. Beautiful Broderick comes riding around the corner on his red BMX and stops right near us. We were all talking and playing and eventually he brings up sex. At 13 I had heard of sex, but didn’t know anything about the actual act. So of course he being the older boy decides to explain it to us. Ultimately he says: sex is all about the man’s penis. All the girls cringe and giggle at this word…he then asks us if we wanted to see his, but before we could answer, he whips it out and lays it flat on the trunk of the fallen tree…all the girls start to run away laughing. This was my first penis sighting. After Broderick showed all the neighborhood girls his package, life continued as usual, except for the fact that I got to the point where I knew it all and mom and I had it out all the time….of course she would win cause back in the 80’s parents beat your ass for acting up.
One day while walking home from school with my neighborhood pals, I met this guy who lived a few streets over. He was tall, brown and lean…his name was Randolph and he was 18. He and I talked and he would meet us in the same spot everyday in order to walk me close to home. I say close to home because I knew better than to let my mom see me with this older guy. So we would kiss a few blocks away from the house and then I would make my way home with my girlfriends just like normal. I talked to Randolph all the time on the phone and tried to find a way to end up on his street as much as possible. This little love affair was short lived when my mom found out about him. You see, my mother’s aunt lived on the same street as Randolph and one day she saw he and I together…before I knew it, my mom was coming down the street with fire under her feet. No more Randolph for me, or so I thought. I still had to and from school and even though I told Randolph to leave me alone, he wouldn’t. He would be there in the mornings on our way to school and also in the evenings. It got to the point that I was becoming afraid of him….so my friends and I had Broderick and the other boys in the neighborhood to walk with us. This was the only way that he didn’t approach us. Months went by and everything seemed back to normal. One morning, I gave my mom hell about going to school. She made me go that day, but I decided that I was gonna skip school. So I take off walking in the direction that I normally go, only to turn around at the next street. Guess who I run into…Randolph.
He begins to follow me and try to talk. I talk to him as we are walking and we end up at this corner store. By this time I am about ready to go home because he was sort of creeping me out. So instead of taking my same route home, I go another way so that I would end up passing my friend’s grandmother’s house that is always at home….he follows at a distance behind me. On this street, there was a vacant wooded lot that sat between my friend’s grandma’s house and a church. As I approach the vacant lot he runs up behind me and pushes me off into the wooded lot. Not realizing what is about to happen, I didn’t scream or anything. All I did was push him and kept asking him what he was doing. He eventually pushes me down to the ground and puts his hand over my mouth so I couldn’t scream. With his other hand he rips my dress as he is trying to make his way up under it…eventually ripping my panties down the front. In order to pull his “package” out he had to remove his hand from my mouth and when he did, I screamed to the top of my lungs, hoping someone would hear me. It was 8 am in the morning and most people were at work or gone to school. He kept telling me to shut up as he tried to thrust himself into me, but I kept moving and he was having a hard time entering. He eventually got extremely angry and slapped me in my face multiple times while holding his hand on my throat. After all of his fidgeting; he finally got himself into me and began to pounce up and down. The pain was so intense that all I could do was wince and cry…I tried screaming, but nothing would come out anymore. After about 2 minutes, I heard gunshots and Randolph jumps up and runs through the wooded lot. I look up and it’s my friend’s uncle who took off from work that day. I later found out that he was in the shower, but heard a woman screaming. After Randolph ran off, I got up and started walking. The man who basically saved me from a savage rape tried to get me to stay with him while he called my mother, but something in me wouldn’t let me sit and wait. So I took off walking down the street with this torn dress and my ripped panties in my hand. As I approached my street, my mothers best friend came driving up beside me asking why I wasn’t in school and I didn’t respond…she stopped her car and got out and saw my bruised face and my torn clothes and immediately put me in her car and drove the rest of the way home. My mom opened the front door and I burst into tears.
Aquarius.Soul ©2009
It baffles me that people, both straight and gay use the word “lesbian” as a descriptor..for example, “This is my lesbian friend Jane” I can’t remember the last time I said “meet my straight friend John”…what is that about?
I am an avid yahoo chat user….it just helps my day go by faster. Thanks Yahoo! Anyway, yesterday I got an IM from a girl I befriended a few years ago when MySpace was popular. She was cool for the most part…even came to a big birthday bash I had back in 2008. Now mind you, I have not heard, seen or talked to this woman since 2008 and all of a sudden she pops up on my IM yesterday trying to chat me up. Needless to say, I was baffled because:
