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Respectfully,
Erin Grace

Saturday, February 18, 2012

Contact

It wasn't long after my birthday party that the call came....from a "friend", my mother said. I answered the phone. "Erin? It's "C" ("K's" little sister). Don't say it's me to anyone, please. "K" wants to talk to you." The phone changes hands and "K" speaks. He misses me. He knows this all wasn't my doing and he's worried about me. Can I meet him? I'm 14, so I would have to walk or ride my bike to meet him. I do it. I don't even know why I'm agreeing to it. Saying "no" just wasn't something I knew to do. I don't even think I gave any thought to anything anymore. I felt like a robot.

There were times he would just call to talk and there were times he would have me ride my bike to meet him. He asked me to write to him. I began writing letters and boldly mailing them from my mother's mailbox. One day, a few miles from my mother's house, he met me at the property of an old couple. He was already there. He grabbed my hand and led me up through the woods and fields, on the hill behind their house. I asked him what they would think, couldn't they tell I was so young? He said he told them I was his wife, I would be soon anyhow. He laid a blanket down and had sex with me there in the field. If they looked out of their windows, the couple could have easily seen us in the distance. Nothing really mattered to me at that point, though. 

When he was done with me, he began talking about us being together forever. He had contacted some people who had connections in Mexico. He was going to take me to Mexico where he could marry me and we could live. No one would be able to get to him there and we could be together forever. I was fascinated and terrified at the same time. It was another case of my imagination going crazy but the reality scared me to death, as well. It was intriguing, someone "cared" for me but I'd never be able to see anyone I knew, again. At the time, I don't know how much my 14 year old brain really cared. I was used to crazy talk.

So the trips to the library began, books about Mexico...every one I could get my hands on. Late at night I began teaching myself Spanish and hid the books under my mattress. He set a date and where we'd meet. We would leave late at night. He had connections. He had a family to live with...

3 comments:

  1. Sorry. I really don't mean to leave it like that it's just I can only take putting so much out there at once. It brings up so many feelings and memories that I didn't think I'd have. I've been doing a lot of crying lately, something I never have been known to do much of...I know it's good. The kids aren't used to seeing me like this, even though I keep the majority of it from them, they can tell. They ask. I just tell them everyone does it and it's healthy. It's all I can really say.

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  2. I think this post bothers me the most...how influenced I was...

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