All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Remembering
I remember it well.
I was hopeful. I wanted you to kiss me, and I wanted reassurance. That perhaps there was something still in you of the boy that I once knew. But the boy who stood in front of me only held one quality alike to the past. You wore a dark blue shirt. It was long sleeved, and the fabric was actually quite rough. The sleeves were a bit too long for your skinny arms, and the hood was tattered from use. You wore a dark blue shirt.
I remember it vividly.
The sun beat down on my bare, unscarred arms, but it was still quite cold outside. We walked between the trees, trying our best to tear down the walls that time had formed between us. We darted through the rotting leaves and the knifelike needles of the pine trees. The leaves crunched beneath my grey sneakers, occasionally startling a squirrel nearby. And you wore a dark blue shirt.
I remember it clearly.
We shot comments back and forth, about who was more lame. Laughter floated through the air between us, our voices intertwining into a longing embrace. There was a large log nearby, with a thick layer of lush moss growing. We broke twigs off of the trees and threw them to your dog, or even at each other. And you wore a dark blue shirt.
I remember it strongly.
You put your arms around my shoulders and my heart sped up. Your head got closer, and I could feel the heat rising through my body. Your hand found its way into mine, and you traced lazy circles on palm. And then your lips were against mine. It was so cold outside that mine were nearly numb from the dropping temperatures. But yours were warm, and soft. And you wore a dark blue shirt.
I remember it sharply.
How you slowly lowered to your knees, dragging me down with you. I didn’t know your plan. I thought that maybe the ground was just a bit more comfortable. If only I had known. And then, you were lying on top of me. It was so cold outside that I couldn’t find the energy to care. After all, our clothes were still on, so it didn’t matter. Right? Wrong. Your dark blue shirt came off.
I remember.
You didn’t ask. I was confused, my mind racing. Every thought collided with another, until my brain was simply a jumbled mess. Your lips moved down. My shirt slid up, not over my head yet. Your lips touched my stomach, and something backfired. I sat up, and yelped “no!” You stopped. And you looked at me. There was a pause, time froze itself here. And then you clicked play. Your mouth opened to reveal mean words, pouring out and dripping onto my bare skin. They stained your dark blue shirt; you never wear it anymore.
I don’t want to remember.
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I couldn’t cry in front of you. I only wanted you to love me, don’t you understand? I guess not. Finally, I whispered a word that I will forever regret. “Fine.” And then it happened. The world turns fuzzy, fading out. I stared at the blue sky, imagining a world different than the one that I was trapped in. Finally, the sky started crying. It weeps tears of sadness onto our skin, begging you to stop. The tears washed away the stains on your dark blue shirt, and then you finally listen. You listened to the sky, but not me. You stop.
Please don’t let me remember.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 2 comments.
This is the story of when I was sexually abused.