This boy named Jorge

This boy named Jorge started flirting with me when we got in the same class the 1st semester of my junior year in high school. He’d hit me in the hallways and hold my waist to move me aside in the line. He’s the clown of the class and he did this with a lot of girls in school. I thought nothing of it! I even *liked* getting a guy's attention. I’ve never even had a real boyfriend. But long story short, on a Monday last December (2004), there was an early release day due to Parent/Teacher conference and I had to walk a mile to my house. While I was walking, Jorge pulled up in his truck and asked if I wanted a ride to where I was going. I accepted because mostly I was freezing cold. While I was in his truck he offered me a blunt (weed) and I took a few puffs off it. Then I think that's when he put his hand on my thigh and I pushed it away 'cause it was just weird and he's not my type. So we got to my house. I live in the basement so I went in that way. A few minutes later when I got my coat off and stuff, Jorge knocked on the basement door, he asked for his lighter. I accidentally kept it in my pocket when we were smoking. I turned my back for one second to get it and I was rushed to my floor. I started fighting him. I know I’m not strong but I *can* fight. He wasn't holding back neither, he got me good in my stomach and face. I was on my back so I couldn't get him like I wanted. I remember he told me "be cool, bit*h, be cool" among other things. I hate myself because I couldn't hold out longer. If only I could have! I knew what was about to happen. How stupid could I be to let it?! Jorge told me to close my eyes and don't look at him. I did, I turned my head and stared at the legs of my couch. After he violated me and robbed me of my virginity, I told him to get the out and if he spoke of this to anyone I’d go to the police. I didn't want anyone to find out about this! Although I know my rights and I know I should have told someone I was afraid to be labeled a sl*t. Something I didn’t want to be looked at as. I know I’m wrong for that now and my views have changed. I was molested before all this by a man who I was suppose to trust... this is the first time I’m even trying to recount the events of that afternoon. And I don't want to EVER think of it again. I just want to get on with my life.

Labels: This boy named Jorge

posted by Robert Heard at 8:02 AM