Thursday, October 13, 2011

Marco Polo, a fictional narrative essay

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I lay in bed, tossing and turning, so afraid, so ashamed, so confused, so violated, so hurt. I fell into a light, restless sleep only to relive the moment through nightmares for the rest of the night.

It was a warm summer night, the kind when the sun doesnt set until after 700 PM. My younger brother Matthew and I decided that we wanted to go for a swim at the pool in our apartment building. We began swimming in the warm pool and enjoying the cool, gentle breeze slowly floating over the surface of the water. Matthew told me that he wanted to play Marco Polo, but what fun is a game like that with only two people? Just as we were preparing to go get Nathan (my other brother) a man, who gave his name as Bob, and his son James appeared at the pool gate. They heard us discussing our Marco Polo dilemma and asked if they could engage in a friendly game with us. Never in my wildest dreams would I have suspected this man and his child would be anything but nice, respectable people. This, my teenage naivete, so common in our generation, had allowed me to be so completely trusting of someone I hardly knew.

Our game started out innocently enough. We were all laughing and having a good time, until I began to realize that Bob always tagged me. At first I, of course, assumed I was just unlucky. But the way he would grab me and toss me into the pool every time he was it began to unnerve me. Not wanting to frighten Matthew or overreact, I ignored the precarious situation and pretended that everything was fine. I would later gravely regret this decision.

It was now dark and deserted outside and due to the fact that both Matthew and I were becoming tired, I decided it was time for us to go home. As we began to exit the pool, Bob and his son followed. Once again I pushed the uncertainty of Bobs actions out of my mind, after all, his decision to go home was completely reasonable. As Matthew and I walked along the path to our apartment, I noticed that Bob and his son were still following close behind us. Still wanting to believe that nothing was wrong and that nothing bad could ever happen to me, I ignored this fact; telling myself that their apartment was just close to ours and therefore it was okay that they were walking the same direction as Matthew and I were. From the point in time that we walked out of the pool area until about shortly thereafter Matthew had been walking very close to me. This comfort, however, was soon pulled out from underneath me. Matthew thought that it would be funny to run ahead of me and see how long it would take me to catch him. As I reached a point in the walkway where it goes through a set of apartments, I began to try to run to catch up to Matthew. As my pace quickened, Bob suddenly grabbed my arm, spun me around to face him, and shoved me up against the nearest apartment wall. His son was nowhere to be found, and neither was Matthew. I tried to scream as soon as I realized what was happening, but Bob had pressed his hand forcibly against my mouth, not allowing me to do anything but stand there, completely terrified. He began touching me in inappropriate ways and I fought against him to no avail. His body weight was completely thrown against me and no matter how hard I tried, I could not push him off of me.

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I was so frightened my mind took me to a different place. I was no longer up against the apartment wall. I was in a much happier place. I have no idea how long I was gone. I remember praying that it would all sometime be over, hoping, wishing. I dont remember what happened next. I don’t know how I suddenly was able to overcome Bobs strength, but I was. I pushed him off of me and ran home. I dont know how long it was until I got home. Time has no effect on the horror of a situation such as this to a fourteen-year-old child. My view of others around me, and my life were forever changed that night. I have adopted the sad practice of questioning the actions and motives of everybody around me, even those closest to my heart. Slowly I have begun to recover, but the lasting effects of what happened to me will remain a part of me forever.

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