Assault

This memory finally fades:

He approached, smiling. “It’s okay,” he said. We made eye contact, innocent and sexy. His eyes were warm and brown.

Surprising myself, I sighed. But I felt relief. I had feared this moment.

He leaned forward and reached out toward me. I thought he was going to hug me and I stepped inside his arms, wrapping mine around him.

But he didn’t hug me. His fingers gripped the back of my neck, pulling me close. His touch was a surprise; the force of it,
a further shock. Startling.

His mouth brushed my ear. His voice was soft. I concentrated, trying to hear him. I imagined his lips, shaping each word, giving them substance, materiality. I could feel the words.

I closed my eyes, strained to listen. His voice stayed soft. But his words were vulgar. Violent. I pulled away, but he held on, whispering.

When he let go, I felt tossed away. We made eye contact again; nothing innocent or sexy or kind. He walked away.

I will let the details go, but I do not intend to forget.