4:46 PM, Wednesday, Mar. 10, 2010
So today just now as I was walking home, when I turned from the main street at the corner, ten metres down, I hear some footsteps. Running.
So I'm like, oh ok. Running
Then someone puts their hands on my shoulders. And I'm like, oh, someone I know.
Then he fucking feels up my ass. And I don't mean just touching but really feeling up. But I didn't really get it, so I turn around thinking, wtf...
Some guy is running off down the street and the first thing I think of is, oh, a fucking dare. So I shout at him, 'wth, FUCK YOU!'
Then I turn and continue walking and think about it. The more I think about it, the angrier I become. Did he just feel me up? Stupid dare. (Coz earlier I saw this troublemaker kid that used to go to my primary).
But then I'm thinking, what if it wasn't. What if he's just some random fucker on the loose, attacking random girls on the street. What if something else had happened?
The more I think about it, the more scared I get. I'm agitated, scared sort of, hating myself for not hurting him or reacting faster.
At the same time though, I feel fine. I'm sort of scared, but then I'm sort of like, omg, the hell. Technically, I was sexually harassed by a stranger/pervert. Technically, I've become one of that minority of girls that end up turning into feminists and scared shit of guys.
But really? It's not that big of a deal. Sure I get a tad more scared about the chances of being abducted and raped and shit, but this? I feel like... it's harmless almost. I mean, why else would he pick a corner, if he was planning to run away?
And I've got this nagging feeling it had something to do with that Sam. Bloody dick. I was going to say hi to him.
I know, I'm being optimistic. But what else can I do.
Eatrend says I should tell the police. Tell the police what? I hate to admit it, but the guy DID get away with it. I didn't see his face, I only saw his orange hair and guy. That's totally worth reporting.
And you know what? I keep wondering, maybe there are other girls like me who have had this happened to them. Many, many, MANY girls. More than the stats say. So yeah... it kind of makes me wonder why girls cop this shit.
And I'm a little more wary of guys, but I can't say I'm scared shit of them.
Really? I'm bagging myself for not being able to at least give the guy a scratch. Seriously. I hope he runs into a tree and feels the pain.
Dickheads. That's all they deserve.
I'm not afraid. I won't let myself be afraid. Why should I be. Why should this happen to me when it's like a one-in-58932 chance? Fuck. I'm the victim. So lemme punch you in the face.
Fuck.
But I'm glad I ended up telling Eatrend. His off-handed-ness, yet sort of implied worry makes me feel tonnes better than any comforting words could :)
And now that I think about it some more, it's really not that big of a deal. I reckon it's just another day in the life of my fucking white suburb. All in a day's work.
However, next time, if that rare chance ever comes up, I'll be prepared. Get ready to get your balls blown up, future harasser >]