i was in my mid-teens. as i lay in bed one night, almost asleep, my door opened and a man walked in. he was drunk. i could smell it even before he got near me. the bed creaked a little as his weight was deposited on it. i kept my eyes closed and my breathing even. i didn’t need to look, i knew who it was.
\nthe bed shifted as he moved his hand to my hip. it sat there, unmoving, as he started to talk.
\n“you’re a very good girl. don’t let boys do things to you. you’re smarter than that.”
\nhis hand moved. it could have been an involuntary twitch, but it felt like a blow.
\n“such a good girl.”
\ni thought that if i just pretended to be asleep he’d get bored and leave. please let him leave<\/i>, i thought.
\nhe sighed heavily and the bed moved again. it felt like his head drooped against his chest.
\nplease let him leave.<\/i>
\nhe started to stroke my side through the covers. i fought to keep from flinching. sleeping people do not flinch. i don’t know what else he said. i only remember his telling me over and over and over again what a good girl i was.
\nthe next thing i realized the door was closing and i was alone again. i started shaking. i couldn’t cry because he was in the next room. i didn’t want him to know i was awake.
\nit’s been almost fifteen years since that night. i’ve never told anyone about the night my mother’s boyfriend almost molested me. yes. almost. i got off lucky, you might say.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
i was in my mid-teens. as i lay in bed one night, almost asleep, my door opened and a man walked in. he was drunk. i could smell it even before he got near me. the bed creaked a little as his weight was deposited on it. i kept my eyes closed and my breathing …<\/span> Read More →<\/span><\/a><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-199","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-words"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/fubsy.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/199","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/fubsy.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/fubsy.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/fubsy.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/fubsy.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=199"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/fubsy.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/199\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/fubsy.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=199"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/fubsy.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=199"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/fubsy.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=199"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}