13 years hold.... part 1

I found Mark to be the most tantalizing person I had ever met. Of course… I was 13 at the time so I am sure that role was not as difficult to fill then.

I met him at a park near my house. I used to go there on hot summer days on my bike. A new freedom from the house that had been reluctantly granted to me when I turned 12. Once I had started making friends in school it became a undesired side effect for my father and probably a much needed relief for my mother.

Even on the days my best friend was not able to make it out, I still continued the routine. I had not yet learned how important it was to be afraid as a woman out on her own.

Additionally, I had hit puberty at 11 years old. I was the new owner of the fully developed physical body of an 18-year-old without the properly developed brain to go along with it. Puppies and boys were still equally cute back then.

It was on one such isolated summer day alone at the park when I met him. Mark was not so young and looked like a soap opera star. Dressed in a wife-beater (look that up British friends) and kaki trousers. He has slicked back black hair with that one tantalizing piece that would hang just in front of his creamy brown eyes.

I was enchanted. He wasn’t alone. He came with two friends, one massive man/boy who must have been 6’6’ with long hair and the other who was tall but lanky, who skulked in the background constantly. I was ignorant and imagined it was because they did not care to be a part of their friends unending flirting.

Mark and I talked about everything around that park. He was sweet and flattering. Constant gentleman. A black car with heavily tinted windows and filled with people pulled up, Mark kissed my hand and made me promise to come back the next day.

Of course… I did. And I did. And I did.

For about three weeks we carried on like this. Always the gentleman. Like a man from the distant past in a Jane Austin film.

And then one day the car pulled up and I saw what was in the trunk. Guns. Tons of them. The trunk was closed, and Mark said his farewells. He could see I was anxious. He told me at that moment that he loved me. That I had to be his girl.  Just like that. I had to be his girl. I feigned a blush with a smile and promised to be there the next day.

I took off home and did not look back. I was terrified.  The magic was over, and fear had finally kicked in. But it was too little too late.

This is when 13 years of stalking, violence, and then rape began.

To be continued after my next few glasses of wine…. maybe