Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Just Being Friendly?

By
Slicing up some ripe red strawberries, creating a question-filled conversation, and smiling his quirky smile, toothy and devilish, Dan was probably a bit too happy about meeting me.

It was a burning hot day, and unfortunately it was time for our introduction to my grandmother’s new boyfriend, Dan. My mom hadn’t been too excited about the “Meet Dan” situation in the first place, and after what happened downstairs: standing outside of the garage with California’s August sun beating down on us, my mother’s non-excitedness quickly transformed into pure disgust and anger.

“Hi there! I have been looking forward to meeting you: you’re grandmother has told me so much about you,” Dan exclaimed.

Gosh, I don’t think I could possibly have any more annoyance with adults who say that. His eyes, those deep sockets of mischief and wrongdoing, filled with that sickening gleam, didn’t make the statement any easier either. I answered his many questions quickly, wanting to get out of that place – this man was already scaring me, and I was becoming uncomfortable.

I ended up being pressured with question after question for approximately fifteen minutes, which was fifteen minutes too long if you ask me; until my mother finally walked in and announced our escape. Unfortunately, Dan's car was blocking our departure, and he was forced to come downstairs and move his vehicle.

It’s odd to think that if his ugly little minivan hadn’t slid up right behind us, shielding what I would call “freedom,” my day of violation and misbehavior would have never occurred… but of course, both of these things happened, and I was left to deal with the grin of a devil and the actions of a shameless, sick-minded psychopath.

Common sense would state that Dan would go straight to that outdated van, the one mothers with billions of kids should be driving, and put it into gear so that my own mother and I could finally leave. Pshhhh! What was I thinking; I mean, why would Dan follow directions and use common sense? Apparently that wasn’t his plan at all, because next thing I knew, he was sauntering towards me from behind, and unfortunately I had no idea what was about to occur.

Massage filled my shoulders, and his hands slowly made their way towards my chest as he eventually crossed the line. In fact, crossing the line would be downplaying the situation. I felt violated. Taken advantage of. Fully invaded. I couldn’t believe what had just taken place. I was in total shock, frozen in place for a brief second, as I realized that this man had just “made a pass” on me. Seconds later, my mother’s stern and disgusted voice rang through my ears as we leaped into action and took off for the black utility, determined to get out of this place… and fast.

All I really know is that he was way too close for comfort, and his claims of “just being friendly” were bold-faced lies. I know that my grandma let me down immensely in denying Dan’s actions, stating he would “never do such a thing.” I wish to never see this man again, and thankfully, I’ve been assured that I won’t ever have to.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback