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We met a year ago, and he was the first man to accept me for who I was.
He looked beyond my physical appearance and made me feel worthy to be loved.
I enjoyed being at Grandma’s as I never lacked playmates there.
I was especially close to Mark, my de facto protector, and was seldom apart from him.
She was yelling for us to unlock the door and come out of the room. I suspect my grandmother knew all along that Mark was molesting me, but didn’t intervene until that afternoon.
Instead, I felt special because Mark was giving me his full attention. My guess is that it went on for about a year – before he decided to take it further.
I don’t know what triggered them, but the flashbacks traumatised me.
By then, I was old enough to understand that what my cousin did to me when I was a child was terrible and inappropriate. I started keeping Mark at arm’s length, as I no longer trusted him.
One day, as I sat on his lap, Mark asked everyone else to leave the room, saying that he needed some peace and quiet.
I thought nothing of it – we were a noisy bunch, so I figured he needed a reprieve.