The first time I didn’t know what was happening, I was naïve. Packed into the MTR car you thought I didn’t notice your hand in places it shouldn’t have been. The eternity of those two minutes. At the opening of the doors of wading through the crowd you forced me, finger up my brown knee length skirt pressing firmly against the white cotton underneath, pressing harder as you rammed your body into mine as you walked out of the doors, taking me with you.  I was twelve.

 

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I thought that would be the end but then, within my first week in the US you found me again. You had lost weight, your skin now black, your clothes now tattered. I saw you linger outside the bus. Don’t make assumptions, I told myself. I boarded the bus and you, soon after. Wanting to leave room for others I sat on the inner seat. You eagerly took that spot. I flashed a smile. Next thing I knew your hand was on my bare thigh. Rubbing up and down. I endured it thinking you would stop. I looked up and you smiled, your eyes clear with lust. What was I to do? I looked to the only other passenger for support. She had a vacant inner seat. I gathered my belongings and proceeded to move. I thought I would be safe because this time I was not alone. But as soon as I sat down the woman left. I thought she of all people would understand! I caught the bus driver looking through her mirror, but she kept silent. That deafening silence. I texted Lucas, I texted Lyza… someone, someone help me. Just when I thought things  couldn’t get any worse I got responses to my texts.

 

“hahahaha lol”

 

“are you sure?”

 

I couldn’t speak.

 

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Third time’s the charm they say. This time you changed your tactics. In the streets of Tangier you employed not one, not two, but five boys no older than twelve to do your work for you. The three of us just wanted to get back to our hotel safely, but you wouldn’t allow it. You cheered them on. They ran after us through that endless dark alleyway, and just when we approached the entrance to the hotel, scrambling to get the key in, I felt a hand grab my ass in a swift sweeping motion. I looked back and to my horror found a boy no older than twelve snigger, his friends patting him on the back for what he had accomplished. Your uncle called you all back into the house, it was time for dinner. No more fun and games.