Scars on My Black

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Explanations and Blues [Kevin]

“What the hell was that!”

Can Petra be any louder? For someone who acts like she’s in control, she whines like a little dog a lot. It’s not my fault she’s not in there trying to feel me up like a piece of meat while her friends jack off to it. I just want to be alone. Not stuck here on what I now realize is a very uncomfortable stone bench. Petra, towering over me looking ready to squash me if I said the wrong thing to her.

“Answer me Kevin! You have nothing to say?“.

I angled my head up towards her. Her lipstick is smeared. Little crescent indentions mark the red lip exposing the pink underground.

“What do you want me to say Petra? Say what! Say that I enjoyed having your hand on me?“.

There her lips go again. Crescent indentations become more prominent. I wish she would stop. Why is she doing that? To make me feel some sort of way for her. Is she thinking? What does she have to think about! It was she who caused this! I didn’t want anything to do with her.

“You know the deal Kevin. You should know what you did in there was unacceptable.”

“I agreed , no was forced, to be your boyfriend. I don’t know what was acceptable behavior for your other little boys but for me. Nobody fucking touches me like that.“.

“Why does it matter! It’s just a touch on your thigh not a cock squeeze. You’re just sensitive.”

Did that bitch really just say that?

“Sensitive? I’m not the one freaking out because someone did not want your hand crawling up their leg.“.

Petra’s eye’s narrows. Is it a challenge she’s looking for? I have been raised by an old school black woman. I can face any challenge this bootleg Little Debbie can dish out. I got to my feet and finally put my height to use. Her eyes glances up and down once but expression like stone.

“You are threading very close to the line Kevin.“.

“So what! Send me back! It would just free me from your meaty clutches!“.

She recoiled back. Her face gains a dusting of pink. Eyes darting around everywhere but me. I was going to claim victory in this if she didn’t say that last sentence.

“Maybe you don’t like my meaty hands because the were not going where you wanted them to go. Don’t think I didn’t realize how you were eyeing up Dorian. “.

I press my lips tightly. Petra’s lips curve up to the smeared red.

“Tell me Kevin. Would you prefer his large hands going up your thigh. His hands clawing at your ass making you beg for more.“.

Beg? That’s a strong word to use. Right now I would beg for a lot of things. I would beg for this conversation to end. It’s clear Petra is just doing this to wind me up. I would beg that by some power someone could have told her that she shouldn’t go so far. That someone told her why. Why, as she continues describing the ways she her self wanted to touch me, it hurts me. Why I can’t breath. Why my arms are starting shake like a dog out of water. Why I want vomit and cry all at the same time.

I remembered how I begged.


“¡Quédate quieto chico!”

“¡Por favor, deténgase señor! ¡No más! Te lo ruego! ¡Duele! ¡Duele!”

“¡Cállate y tómatelo como un hombre!”


“Kevin! Kevin!“, Petra shouts trying to hold my arms still.

" ¡No más!”

Petra quickly lets go of my arms, “Okay, no touching. Can you sit down.”

My legs were waiting for that and immediately leaned me back onto the stone. Petra slipped next to me. She was doing those weird movement those nurses do with a laboring woman. I think she’s instructing me to breath. Breathing! My lungs were burning. I take in the deep breath.

“10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2 and 1. Very good Kevin. Again.“.

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 6, 7, 6,5, 3 and 1. No..not right. I can’t do shit right! No wonder everything happens to me!

“Kevin. Remember. Breathe. 10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2 and 1.”

Breathe. 10, 9 ,8 7, 6, 5, 4, 3,2 and 1.

“Very good Kevin. Feeling better?“.

My chest wasn’t burning anymore so that’s a good sign. I looked towards Petra’s searching eyes. She who caused this is the one to help it. I suppose their irony in every situation. Irony as bitter as coal.

“How? How did you know what to do?“.

Petra pushes a stray piece of escaped hair back into the ponytail, “My sister use to get them when we were younger. Unlike you, she yearned for comfort but same basics applies.“.

Why do you confuse me so Petra. One moment she’s describing how I will be molested and in another she’s calming me. Pick a state of being and let’s move on already. If I am to survive the next seven months with her I need to know weather to go our separate ways or file a restraining order when this is over.

“Thanks...“.

“It no problem. I shouldn’t have went that far. It was uncalled for.“.

“Don’t ever do that again Petra. To anyone. You of all people should know not do that shit.“.

Petra bows her head, “I understand.”

This was enough emotional whiplash for an afternoon. I rather sit through Ms. Penguins Geography class. Shit, I’m going to be late for it if I don’t start walking now.

“I got to go now. Petra, try not to be a dick while I’m gone. I’m sure you know how one acts being around so many.“.

I didn’t get a chance to see Petra’s open fish face before I rushed off to class. I didn’t pay attention today - too lost in dream land of cute Indian-Norwegian babies, racial propaganda and lots of shirtless Dorian’s.

I blame Petra for the last one.

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