I still remember his touch. His hands big, rough and full of hunger.
“Let’s play that game again,” that was his favorite thing to say.
“Here comes the superwoman.” He was so strong. He would lift me in the air.
“Don’t be so shy, they’re our friends too.”
They seemed like nice people. They just touched a lot; it just made me not want to be around them.
“Don’t go inside, mom and dad will get mad at you too.”
They’d hold my hand so tight. They reeked of cigarettes. or they’d be holding some bottles in a brown bag. They always seemed a little unbalanced.
“Let’s play the Barbie game.” He’d grip at the hem of my dress right away.
They’d all look at me. I saw him get mad and I didn’t want him to be mad with me.
The Barbie game was his favorite. I didn’t understand why.
“Don’t worry honey, it’s all just a game,” he’d whisper as he lifted the dress over my head.
As his fingers rushed to the gold pot. As the other friends took a turn in the honey jar. This was his favorite part.
He’d stand there with a smile.
How could I say no when we were playing his favorite game and he was so happy.
“Don’t worry about the pain, it’ll go away. No need to bother mommy”