Why I Hate Basketballby a young woman, age 14
The nightmare started when I was five years old.
I just moved into the yellow house.
Everything was going fine until I moved there.
And I had a really weird neighbor.
He was three years older than me.
His name, which I’ll never forget, was C.
He started out telling me words I didn’t understand.
I told my parents, but they didn’t believe me.
They said that I learned it from an inappropriate TV show.
But, it wasn’t where I learned it.
From that point on, it just got worse,
When he figured out what I said.
He started asking me weird questions.
And telling me to do weird things.
I felt really embarrassed and violated.
As the years went on, it just got worse.
Now I know what he was doing,
And I didn’t know how to stop it.
One day I went out to go play basketball in the neighborhood.
He saw me playing and came out.
He said that for every shot I missed
He would get to do something with me.
And I missed 23 times.
And the next morning. I woke up really sore.
I looked at my body, and it was covered in bruises
From the struggle. I didn’t want to lose it.
That night my sister came in.
And she was crying her eyes out.
It had happened to her, too.
It had been to her, too,
Since we moved to the yellow house.
Dedicated to my sister