Bicycle

This photo of me was taken by a very talented friend of mine. 

“I would rather be a little nobody, then to be a evil somebody.”

― Abraham Lincoln

**

I was seven

Maybe eight

 

I was a girl

He was a boy

 

He lived on our block

I didn’t know his name

 

I rode a bicycle

He did too

 

He would stare angrily

I didn’t know why

 

I had friends

He wasn’t one

 

His eyes would burn with fury

My heart would fall into my stomach

 

I had a gold bracelet

My mom let me choose it

 

I chose my bicycle too

That my dad saved to buy

 

He kept shooting spiteful glances

I kept remaining in my safe circle of friends

 

One sunny afternoon, flying freely on my bike

He flew fast and hard into my side

 

I crashed into a cement wall beside me

He pinned me to the wall with his front wheel

 

My world became still

Panicked and terrified, I stared

 

Don’t tell anyone

Or I will say we had sex, he said

 

I didn’t know what sex was

But I sensed a threat

 

He backed up

Rode into my side one more time

 

He disappeared

Scratches on my arm throbbed

 

My bracelet was broken

My bicycle was broken

 

I ran back home

Eyes full of tears

 

What happened, my mom asked

I fell, I lied

 

It’s okay, she said

It’s not okay, I thought

 

I didn’t ride for a long time

I didn’t sleep well for longer

 

He was the first to stifle me

But he wasn’t the last one

4 Responses

    1. I didn’t know him, so I don’t really know who he became. But I hope that was his first and last time and he didn’t hurt anyone else.

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