Remember when David tried to rape you in the back of his van? You ran crying to me and we held hands – Jesus Christ, we’d all just been playing Marco Polo in your pool – you told me how he held you down behind closed doors – how you screamed for help – needed someone to stop it – you bit him hard – you took care of it – we talked all night, I held you in my arms, stroking your blonde hair slowly over and over, thanking God you were able to run – You were strikingly beautiful for your age, older men had made us wary with their leering remarks that skirted wrong. But, David, what the hell, I kept thinking, why did he do that, he was our friend. I did not know yet with power comes domination in ways we were too young to understand. We talked all night, all night, all night and finally we decided silence was best. We did not tell.
by Lisa Fountain
Lisa Fountain, a native Texan, is a retired attorney currently seeking her Masters in English at Stephen F. Austin University in Nacogdoches, Texas. Ms. Fountain practiced corporate law in New Orleans, Manhattan and Washington D.C. for approximately 20 years before returning to school to pursue her life long desire to write. In the Spring, she will act as an adjunct professor of English in the Liberal Arts Department of Stephen F. Austin University.
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