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Chapter 2- I Don't Ride With Perverts

I walked hurriedly on the lonely streets of Portersville, with my hands clamping my blouse together.

The journey was long and my ankles pained me, but anything was better than having to be scrutinized on a bus by strangers.

As I walked the pedestrian line, a vehicle pulled up behind me. It was Vaughn, the defiler.

I cringed when I saw the look on that devil’s face. He looked like he was panicking.

“Let me take you home, Jasmine”

“I don’t ride with perverts,” I quickly replied walking faster than the Land Rover that was chasing me down.

Vaughn followed me home. I guess he was making sure I wasn’t heading to the police station to have him and his pathetic posse arrested.

I was breathless, but I didn’t care. I wanted to get home. The faster I walked, the more Vaughn cruised behind me.

What else could this boy want from me? He’d humiliated me, attempted to sexually molest me, and now he is adding insult to injury by following me home.

Coupled with that, his friends were asked to get their share of the fat pie. What have I done to humanity that I must suffer this pain?

This boy has everything going for him. Why would he want me to die without enjoying the little that I have?

My parents are at the lower class of society. They work hard to make ends meet. Our home had only two bedrooms, mine and my parents.

Vaughn, on the other hand, was supposed to have had it made, although his home was simple.

His father was a politician and his mother an attorney. He was a rich kid. He was very handsome, but today I saw an ugly side of him.

When I entered the small broken-down picket fence that barely surrounded my yard, he pulled up behind me.

I never turned around to look at his face. I quickly took the backdoor to make a clean escape. I had to avoid my parents.

“Jazz honey. Is that you?” I heard my father’s voice calling from our small kitchen.

“Yes, dad,” I shouted

“Honey, our front door still operates,” he said with such annoyance in his voice.

Daddy hated me using the back door. He said that it’s not ladylike. I never understood what he meant, especially not today, when this backdoor was my only safe haven.

I had no idea when Vaughn drove off. I didn’t care either. I went into my bedroom and jumped into the shower quickly, knowing that soon my mom would need help to set the dinner table.

I threw the blouse in the bin and set it on fire. I wanted no remembrance of that dreadful afternoon.

I cried as I showered. It hurt so much that my dream to have a normal life was dashed when these wicked boys tried to take advantage of me.

“Honey…”, I heard my mom calling.

Without giving her time to finish I shouted, “Coming mom. Yes, the dinner table.”

I put on some sweat pants and a t-shirt, heading downstairs to help my mom in the kitchen. Dinner smelled great. It was simple potatoes with chicken and some vegetables.

I am always grateful for whatever is provided. I say to myself continuously that some people are starving around the world.

We sat at the table to have our dinner. Mom and dad questioned me on how the day went.

I gave them every detail except the part where I almost lost my virginity…three times.

After dinner, I told mom that I would wash up. We usually washed up together, but I felt so tormented I needed to do something.

I needed to find things to get my mind off what I was really dealing with.

I felt I could cook a pot of rice one by one, or paint the entire living room in red with a Q-tip. That’s how I felt inside.

I was a nervous wreck. I dreaded having to go to school tomorrow.

I was so scared. I knew if word got out about what happened to me at Vaughn’s house, the shame would be unbearable.

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