St. Cloud

eleven

Now that you know who Derek is, and at least one of the things he did, this story can now continue.

After the pool party, Mia dropped me off at home and I went straight to the shower. After an incident like that I wanted nothing more than to wash away all the dirty stuff. I took off my clothes and remember tracing parts of my skin, telling myself everything was alright and that nothing happened.

I understand that maybe what happened in the trampoline park wasn't even a big deal. Though when you remember the time when you were only eleven and a seventeen year old boy pins you down to the ground and refuses to get off of you despite the screams and cries you make, stuff like that brings back memories. It scares you.

That old story lives vividly in my memory, because I can remember every second of it. I remember going over to my friends house, with the only intention of playing outside and eating ice cream in her backyard. I knocked on her door, and when I expected her to open it for me, she didn't. Her brother did. He invited me in, because apparently she was in the shower at the moment. I sat in the living room, thinking nothing of the situation. Soon my friend would be downstairs, and we would go play. Simple.

Yet when her brother came into the living room as well, he began to ask me questions. He wanted to play a game with me, and he said it wouldn't hurt at all. I was hesitant, because I didn't really know him and I didn't want to play anything with him at all.

"C'mon, we can just wrestle for a little bit. It'll be fun." He was smiling, so I didn't think he meant to do me any harm.

I stood up, and that was the first mistake I made. Standing up allowed him to grab me by the arm and pull me closer to him. He was taller and stronger than me, so thrashing my arms around to try to get away didn't do much.

"Relax, relax, this is fun," He was laughing.

"We're just playing around."

But I didn't wanna play.

We then ended up on the ground, and I was locked in between his legs. I screamed and I kicked, I screamed so loud my throat burned. He tried to get me to quiet down, but I continued to scream because I didn't want to play this "game" anymore. I was only eleven, but somehow I had a lot of fight in me, enough to gather the strength to open his legs up a little bit so I could break free.

I made a run for it. At eleven years old I learned just how fast I could run. I ran up the stairs of the house, and when I heard footsteps not far behind me, I turned into the first room around the corner. That was my second mistake. It was his room.

I remember running into the closet, shutting its door and then holding a hand over my mouth to quiet my breathing. I heard footsteps run into the room, and then the soft sound of the bedroom door clicking shut.

"We're not done playing yet." He said, and before I could process what was happening, the closet door was thrown open and I was pulled out. I was thrown onto the bed, and he jumped onto the bed too. I remember kicking my legs, screaming, and trying to get away, but I only ended up with thick bed sheets covering my face making it harder to breath. I'll be honest, I almost gave up. I was terrified, and only eleven years old while he was adamant, and seventeen years old. What more could I do? I was getting tired while he was gaining adrenaline.

I decided to make one more attempt before I gave up, and I just tried to kick him as hard as I could. To my luck, it was right where no boy wants to be kicked. He screamed out in pain, and I took the chance to make another run for it. I ran out of the room and downstairs, straight out the backdoor.

I ran home. Granted it was just down the street, but I ran like all hell. I remember hearing my heart beat in my ears and I was forcing my legs to go faster. I didn't stop until I was back at home and safe inside, and I remember crying and shaking for hours that night.

To this day, I still remember everything that happened when I was eleven.

I suppose the reason I'm telling you two consecutive scarring stories of my past, is to fill you with reason as to why I enjoy being alone nowadays. It's why I'm not interested in relationships or having a boyfriend. I don't trust them, and the real issue is the fact that I'm afraid more than anything else.

And even though I was afraid, something inside me was still attracted to the interesting soul that was the Gray himself.

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