I Was Eleven

I was eleven with the body of a sixteen-year-old. The hormones raging through my system mimicked what I looked like on the outside. I was the perfect storm. I was the perfect target. I was coming into womanhood and trying to find myself. There were plenty of guys willing to show me the way. One in particular just decided to be all too aggressive about it. He was the step-brother of my best friend at the time, Harry. I hardly knew anything about him except that he seemed a like a goofy teenager. I just wish it could have all remained fun and games.

It started it out innocent enough or so it seemed. He flirted with me. He joked with me. He even “felt me up.” This all was nothing I couldn’t handle. We all laughed about it. It seemed to be just casual fun. I didn’t seem to be in over my head. I didn’t seem to be doing anything I couldn’t handle. Besides, my best friend was right there and I knew she had my back. We all hung out all the time. There were me and my best friend, her brother and her step brother. We’d go skating or play card games while our parents were out. It was just something we did.

It would slowly progress and being “felt up” became somewhat of a regular occurrence. It felt awkward. He never kissed me or hugged me. He never showed me any affection, but he continued to do this. With my hormones still all the rage, I didn’t know what to do, so I said nothing. I did nothing. I was paralyzed. Paralyzed by my fear and by my hormones. Paralyzed because I was afraid I would be judged because everyone was watching this occur and no one seemed to find it unusual.

Every night that I went home I found myself feeling a little dirtier. I felt a little more used. I questioned whether I was doing the right thing. I remained silent. I told no one. My world grew darker and darker. I just wasn’t sure how to deal with it all. I wasn’t sure how to proceed. My best friend who was two years younger than me seemed to find it all normal. That was concerning in itself. I didn’t know who to turn to. I didn’t know what to do.

Confused, I did what any other traumatized person would do, I returned to be traumatized more. This time, it would reach the peak of traumatization. I was spending the night this time. I was sleeping on the floor of the parents' bedroom. With no parents home at the time, Harry entered. I wasn’t sure why he was there. All I wanted to do was sleep. He proceeded to straddle me and pin my arms behind my head. He then asked me a simple question, “Do you want it?” which I replied “No.” He asked me several times with me answering the same way. My best friend shouting from the other room “You know if you’ve started your period you can get pregnant.” I just continue to mutter “No.” The front door opened and the parents were home. I was saved.

I cried silently for the duration of the night. I blamed myself. I wondered what I had done to deserve such a thing. I wondered why my best friend hadn’t tried to stop it instead of just yelling from the other room. I wondered what would have happened had that front door not opened when it did. I wished for it to just be morning so I could go home. I was done with it all. I was done with the flirting, I was done with the friendship, I was done trying to be older than I was regardless of what my body was doing. I was eleven.