was an emergency but I kept as quiet as I could and I couldn’t
breathe so they called her on the loudspeaker and then when
she came I shook and cried and I tried to tell her and she said,
did anything happen, and I kept saying yes and I kept trying to
say each thing that happened and then we were on the bus and I
kept crying but I w asn’t supposed to talk because people could
hear and it was something bad, and then we got home and I
said how I didn’t want the man to sit next to me and I didn’t
know how to tell him to go away because he was an adult and I
didn’t mean to do something w rong but I didn’t know how to
tell the man not to rub because I didn’t even know what it was
or if it was a mistake because maybe he was making a mistake
because it was dark and maybe he thought I was someone else
that he knew or it was some other mistake and when I told him
he didn’t listen to me and he rubbed me and I didn’t want him
to, I wanted him to go away, and I tried to be polite and act like
an adult and not make noise in public and I didn’t cry like a
child and he had a dark jacket on and they asked me if it was
leather but I didn’t know what leather was and they asked me
what it felt like but I didn’t know how to say and he had on a
striped shirt and he had on dark pants and he had dark hair and
he didn’t sit straight even when he first sat down and he had
bad posture because he couldn’t sit straight and he smoked and
he asked me i f I wanted to smoke, and I did but I didn’t say that
to m y mother because I just looked ahead o f me and said no
even though I wanted to and so I was good and I didn’t have to
say I wanted to, and then he slumped all over me and held me
still with his arm around m y shoulder and his head pinned
under m y head so I couldn’t m ove aw ay and I couldn’t
describe him enough for them but I could still see him; and m y
mother cried; and now I can see him, almost, I can’t remember
yesterday as well, even now he’s right next to me, almost, on
me, almost, the pressure o f his body covering m y heart,
almost, I can touch him, nearly, I could search the earth for
him and find him, I think, or if he sat down next to me I w ould
die, except I can’t quite see his face, nearly but not enough, not
quite, and I can feel his fingers going in, almost, if I touch my
face his fingers are more real, and it hurts, the bruised, scraped
labial skin, the pushed, twisted skin; and my daddy came into
my room after I couldn’t cry anymore and said nothing
happened and not to cry anymore and we wouldn’t talk about
it anymore; and I waited to be pregnant and tried to think i f I
would die. I could have the baby standing up and I wouldn’t
make any noise. M y room is small but I can hide behind the
door.
