I would go for walks and get into deviant behavior because I was either bored out of my mind or I just didn’t feel like having somebody touch me again. I was 12 years old now. Whenever I would walk alone, I’d run into a boy named Clayton. He was kind of a bully and he would always wind up sexually assaulting me and making me feel dirty. He would make me walk with him to some secluded area and then he would lean me against the wall and hump on me. Like a dog humping on my leg. Our clothes would still be on. It would last 10 minutes or less and then he would leave me alone and I could finish walking alone as I had planned at first. But I would always feel dirty after an encounter with him. I would then do something bad like break out a school window, climb through and just look around. Or, I would set brush fires and then lay low and watch the fire department respond. There was no one I could talk to about what I was going through. I couldn’t trust no one so I kept all of this inside of me and just dealt with it. I was so tired of going through these things that I started feeling like it was normal for these things to keep happening to me. I hated myself and I thought I was ugly. And, I just knew that the pretty girls didn’t go through all of this. One walk was with a girl when I was still living in DC. My mother used to let me go out and play with her. She was bossy and a bully too. She would make me pull my panties down and ride the merry go round alone until a grown man made me stop and told me to pull my panties up. I went for a walk with three girls when I was 12 years old, they wound up making me pull up my shirt so they could see my breasts. My walks were always surreal. Something always happened.
written by Joan Nyobe