I was harassed more than once.
I think I was in fourth grade the first time it happened.
I was on my way home with my little sister.
I sat beside someone.
He had a strange vibe.
I didn’t want to sit next to him,
But the driver beckoned me in,
“Come on.”

We got in.
His fly was open,
And he was masturbating.
I was scared,
And I didn’t know what was happening,
What he was doing,
Or what I should do,
Because, unfortunately, my parents never prepared me for this.
I was in shock.
I didn’t know what to do.
I didn’t do the right thing, sadly.
This harasser was watching pornography,
And told me, “Watch with me.”
He put his hand on my leg.
I moved my leg away.
I was terrified of him.
I looked away.
When I was getting out of the car,
He put his hand on my behind and laughed.

I was scared, shocked, and in tears.
I told mama when I got home,
And she told me that this was called harassment,
And that I should’ve yelled at him,
And let everyone know that he was harassing me,
So they could help me.
But unfortunately, she explained this to me after it had happened,
And left its mark on me.

That was the first incident.
It was the one that had the biggest emotional impact on me.
For a long time, I was too scared to sit beside men.
And whenever a guy would sit next to me,
I’d keep thinking about how he could harass me.
I was afraid of men in general.
I was traumatized by them for the longest time.