I Wish I had the Power to Make Sexual Predators Disappear
Child Molesters are at the top of the list
I was sexually assaulted twice when I was a little girl. The first time, I was about years old. The assault happened on the floor of my younger brother’s bedroom. I was wearing a floral nightgown with an undershirt and panties. The perpetrator was a young, Black man in his late teens or early 20s. He broke into our first-floor apartment on Quincy Street in the Dorchester neighborhood of Boston.
It was the middle of the night. Our home was quiet save for the snoring of my parents in the bedroom next to mine. My bed, a cot, was next to the window in my room. Each night I would be lulled to sleep by meowing cats fighting feral dogs. But on that night, I was awakened out of my sleep.
It was the light from a flashlight that had awakened me. It was a large glowing orb surrounded by the darkness of my room. It moved above in slow motion. First, it went next to the door that connected my room with my parent’s room then it bobbed along to the center of my room. Finally, it stopped in front of the door that connected my room with my brother’s room. It stood still for a moment then beckoned to me.
The light disappeared into my brother’s room. Curious, I followed. My brother was asleep in his bed, snoring softly. The floor was cold against my bare feet. I tiptoed slowly into the room, seeing the man standing there with the flashlight. He towered over me, wearing a t-shirt with jeans and sneakers. His hair was in a perfectly round afro. He was brown-skinned like me, perhaps a shade or two lighter. He had a broad chest with a msucular biild.
I recognized him as one of the boys that hung out at the house next to ours. We lived on the first floor of a three-story house. Their house was to the left of ours separated by our driveway and backyard. Sometimes, when my brother and I played with the other neighborhood kids, he would be outside watching us. I didn’t realize that he was actually watching me.
He put a finger to his lips and indicated for me to lay down. I didn’t understand, but something within me told me this wasn’t right. I turned and started to run back towards my room. He grabbed my arm and held me in place. He made a gesture toward my brother which told me that if I didn’t cooperate he would do something to my brother. I didn’t want anything happening to my brother, so I stood still. Once he was assured that I would cooperate, he again indicated for me to lay on the floor.
The cold floor made me squirm. I wanted so much to be back in my warm bed. I remained quiet, waiting for the next instructions and hoping that he wasn’t going to hurt me or my family. I didn’t have to wait long. The young man placed the flashlight on the floor and clicked off the like. The glow from a nearby streetlight gave my brother’s room a two-toned look — half-light and half-darkness.
The young man then proceeded to roll up my nightgown. His hands were cold and I grabbed them, reacting to the cold and rolling up my gown. I didn’t like where this was going. He then quietly assured me that everything was going to be alright. That he wasn’t going to hurt me. That he just to see something. I reluctantly released my hands.
He continued to roll up my gown to my waist, revealing my panties. The cold air of the room raised goosebumps on my little legs. I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists. He then slowly pulled my panties down to my legs. I felt myself inwardly gasp. What was he doing? This wasn’t right. What was going to happen next? The urge to get up and run ran through my mind.
The young man then said he was going to touch my private area with his fingers. Before I could protest, he jammed about two or three fingers into my private area. I stifled a gasp as his cold fingers moved around and around inside me. The fingers poked and prodded my private areas while the young man breathed excitedly. My legs started to twitch, wanting to stand. He leaned his weight forward, holding them in place.
The invasion of my vaginal area lasted for several minutes. When he was finally done my insides felt raw and sore. My legs also ached from the weight of his body and the inability to move. The young man stood up and said this was our secret and not to tell anyone. I numbly nodded my head, too shocked to speak. I then watched him back up and sneak out of our apartment via the basement door.
I sat up, pulling my panties back into place. I looked over at my younger brother who was still sound asleep. I stood up and tiptoed back into my room. My parents were also still asleep. snoring even louder. My stomach felt weird. There was an ache between my legs which felt stiff and uncoordinated. I had been fingered against my will and I didn’t know what to do. I got back into bed and fell into a fitful sleep.
I tell this story because one of my students shared a story of being raped — twice. The first time was by her uncle when she was around 10 years old. The second time by her grandfather a year or two later. Her story triggered my memories of being sexually assaulted.
My student had told her parents about the first rape, but not about the second one. Her uncle is no longer in the picture and could be in prison now — or worse. Her grandfather, however, lives with an aunt in another city. However, he is only a short car or bus ride from her home.
The student shared the story with me because the grandfather recently tried to do the same thing to her younger cousin. She was ten years old and the grandfather had called the girl to the basement. The young girl had the wherewithal to secretly record their conversation. As I listened to it, I distinctly heard the grandfather asking the young girl to kiss him. The young girl denies his request and soon leaves the basement. But not before asking the grandfather repeatedly if “he was okay.” The entire conversation lasted about 3–5 minutes.
I urged my student to speak to her parents about the incident. Her young cousin is afraid. I don’t know of what. I then suggested that they both go to the police with the recording. At the very least they can file a police report, give a statement, and let the police handle it. My student is worried about DCF getting involved. I believe child services should be involved as this situation is causing my student to have emotional issues and sleep deprivation.
I wish I had the power to make sexual predators disappear. I want to be a witch or a mutant like in the X-Men and get rid of them all. I’d dumped them on a distant planet full of ferocious creatures who would rip them to shreds. If I had the authority, Id arrests them all and throw them in the prison. No trial is needed. They’re guilty. I’d believe the children. If they’re men, I’d cut off the penises. If they’re women, I’d sew up their vaginas.
Sexual predators have no right to exist in our society. No society anywhere. There are predators all over the globe molesting and raping girls and boys. They’re attacking women and making it unsafe for them to live their lives. That’s not right. Sexual predators need to disappear. They need to be thrown into an active volcano or stoned in the center of town.
Parents, please believe your children if they tell you or show you they’ve been inappropriately touched by someone. Alert the authorities. Contact the school. Get therapy for your child. Tell your neighbors. Track the son of a bitch down and beat his ass! Sexual predators don’t have any rights in my opinion. They need to be burned at the stake. No child or adult should have to deal with those deviants.