She was running away from home. So much had happened. Her family moved every couple of years and they were finally in a place she thought she could call home. After so many moves, so many states, so many schools, she let her guard down and she wasn’t shy anymore. She decided to make friends on purpose and she developed true friendships. Then, one day her family said they were going on vacation for her dad’s work trip, to a place in Alabama, a quaint little town. She and her sister were excited. It was a fancy hotel. While the dad was in meetings, she, her sister and sometimes their mother would go swimming and eat meals that were designed for the rich. They rode bikes and went golfing. They explored the town with its year round Christmas lights and quaint charm. Out on the pier, they watched the sun set and looked at the stars. On the last morning, after yet another decadent breakfast, her dad asked her if she liked the town. She said yes. He said would you ever want to move here? She got suspicious, “Why are you asking?” He said because we’re moving here. Her eyes filled with tears and her face grew hot with the betrayal she felt when she discovered that their most recent move he said was the last one was a lie. She cried in the hotel room for the rest of the day. She knew what going home meant. It meant saying goodbye to all of her friends. The ones she had finally made in earnest; on purpose. They got back home and she began to tell her friends that at the months end, when school was out, her family was moving. She cried. Her friends cried. She grew more depressed and despondent with her family. Eventually, she decided she would make the choice to run away.

She went to a friends house and her friend had her cousins over a couple of days after she got there. There were two of them. A male and a female. The male was a few years older than she. Her friends room was spacious and where they spent most of their time. The curtains were red and overlooked the water, a gorgeous sight which years later would be destroyed by Hurricane Michael. They played games and told stories, her friends mom frequently bringing them snacks and checking in. They hung out all night, watching movies and eating popcorn. All four of them were getting along well and creating inside jokes with quick wit and easy laughter. She didn’t show any favoritism to any individual person, she wasn’t flirting, she was being herself. She should have slept in the bed with her friend and the female cousin. Instead, inexplicable to her now, she chose to sleep on the floor alone, in between the two beds in the room. She had nothing but a blanket and a pillow but felt safe and comfortable all the same. She fell asleep and woke when she felt someone next to her. He curled himself around her and she was startled, and scooted away from him. He got close again. She grew frightened and was continuing to feign sleep as she moved away again. He moved closer. He began to touch her and she froze in fear and confusion. Does she ‘wake up’? Does she hit him? Does she try and get away, and if she does will he hurt her? Will he wake everyone up, will they blame him or will they blame her for putting herself in that position?

The night felt long as he treated her as a possession, not worrying if she was awake, not worrying if she was even conscious it seemed. His hand was rough and frenzied. The minutes crept on.

They all wake up and he is back in his bed as if nothing happened. Her friend and the female cousin even made a comment that they were hoping that the girl could stay awhile, and maybe even form a relationship with the male, because wouldn’t it be so fun to be family? She wondered in a panic if they had seen what happened, and if so, how could they be so nonchalant?

She hasn’t slept but she is ready to go home. Her friend said ‘I thought you were running away? It’s only been a few days?’ but she said that her time of hiding was over. It was an abrupt end and her friend had a look of confusion on her face. ‘Also, it’s so early, don’t you at least want to have breakfast with us?’ She said no, and left as quickly as she could.

She doesn’t remember how she got home, but when she did she was afraid and she was sick and she was scared. He was lean and tall, reddish brown hair and a lot of freckles. He would become a blurred fixture in her mind. She barely knew him but he changed the trajectory of her life. He took a sense of safety she hadn’t fully understood she was taking for granted.

She called her dad at work. Was she going to tell him about it? Now she can’t even remember because she was thrown off by the woman who answered the phone.

“Hello, is my dad there?”

“What do you mean, love? He quit a month ago, said he already moved into his new office in Alabama. You didn’t know? Has he not been home?”

She didn’t have a clue. She knew she hadn’t seen him in a while, but she had also been actively avoiding her family, and sometimes he worked late.

It was a gut punch. He couldn’t be trusted. He didn’t even tell her he had left. He was her protector and he wasn’t even there.

She never told her dad what happened. Years later came the Me Too movement and she posted it on a status. Her mother thought it was in reference to another instance the girl had in graduate school. That could be a Me Too as well, but that wasn’t the one the girl was referencing.

Who exactly is the villain? Is it the boy that abused her when she was innocent? Was it the dad who wasn’t there when he should have been? Is it her for staying silent?

Who can tell a true villain?

Can you?

The tension inside me is crushing. My own blood boiling so hot that it fills me up and drowns me. Heated copper brimming over, bursting my veins, enveloping my lungs. And it rises from the pit of me. Spews out my mouth, geyser-like. Flowing faster than I can release it. Until all I see is red. Until all I breathe is scarlet. Until all I feel is crimson. Until I’m so full that my own hungry shadows consume me.

11-12-18

I'm unable to sort out my life

Though I'm happy and satisfied

I'm not

I'm though

But...

I'm teaching spoken English

In a school

Teaching is first time

As I'm pissed off of customer service

But the students over here

Are so dumb

And I'm not sure

Of their present

The fifth grade student

Has mistakes in alphabets

b as d

d as b...

Fen

Ven

where is a?

The same case with nineth grade

They do not know to spell country!!!

Whatever...

I'm in residential building

My principal is satisfied with me

My work

My attitude

My behavior

My poetry. Of course!

He shares his stories

His life

His dissatisfaction

And his agony always.

Further, this field has lot of holidays

And I would like to continue.

Again the same query will arise tomorrow...

Because the physical pleasure is yet to taste me.

Pvpd Sri harsha

11-8-18