Dear grey-haired uncle,
Remember me? Of course, you do. I saw the fear on your face when you saw me yesterday. You still remember me as that little girl in the 7th grade, don’t you? An age from which I remember nothing, I remember you.
“No, ma. I won’t go to that man’s house I don’t like him”,
I told her! For which I was yelled at.
“He’s so old, behave yourself!”
But did you, uncle, behave yourself?
I rang your door bell, hoping you weren’t home, how I hated coming over! Mom had sent some fried fish for you. I waited a while and just as I turned to walk away, the door opened. I rolled my eyes and looked back, faking a smile. Why’d I behave that way only towards you? Today I’d say you gave me negative vibes but, then?
You called me inside, took the fish and disappeared into the kitchen. From in there you kept speaking, while I waited in the hall. There was silence for a bit before I felt those two large hands. Hands covered in grey, just like your scalp. Cupping my undeveloped breasts. A late bloomer, I was, but that didn’t stop you.
The innocent me, unaware that this was ‘Wrong Touch’, let you do so. For a while till you, then, slid a hand between my legs. A chill ran down my spine, I wanted to run. I knew something was wrong. Trying hard to loosen your grip, I failed, you were stronger.
You touched me to your fill, pretending it was a hug from the behind. And only then, did you let go. The girl who usually skipped around, walked back home in the slowest steps that day. Terribly confused about what had happened.
My parents protected me from everything, uncle. Didn’t you see, I was in the 7th grade and I didn’t know you were doing me wrong. Even if I wanted to complain, what would I even tell them?
‘That old man himself, didn’t behave, ma?’
Because of you, my first kiss was ruined.
Because of you, I still get nightmares of that day.
Because of you, I feared boys.
Because of you, I’ll never be able to trust a man with my daughter.
A dark secret that I could never speak about, I decided to write about today. ‘Cause I saw you yesterday and I know you fear me. You live in constant fear that someday this secret would come loose and maybe this time, they’ll believe me and NOT your grey hair.
When you see my face, each and every time, I hope it gives you hell, Uncle.