Molly Was a Good Girl

Number 5

He wrenched my hair backwards, forcing my head back. He stared in my eyes for what seemed like forever... then, in a movement that I haven’t forgotten to this day, forced his tongue into my mouth and his disgusting, filthy hands up my blouse (tearing off three buttons that took hours to sew back on).

I writhed and screamed, kicked and fought, screamed and cried until he eventually gave in and stepped back with a sly grin on his slimy face. The two girls were giggling and holding up their mobile phones, immortalising my horrific event forever in video form. The ratty-looking boy cackled at me as I struggled to get up from the floor, and in his whiny voice said: “You must be a dyke. Any normal girl would have jumped at the chance of a little Marcus lovin’”. He continued his disgusting cackle until I finally struggled to my feet, gathering the scattered contents of my handbag. As I tried to walk away, he stepped in front of me and grabbed my face with his hand, leaving great red marks. He sneered at me and drew in a huge breath before retching up a massive gob of phlegm and hawking it straight in my face. The tears fell as the mess slid down my face, and all the girls standing on the sidelines did was roll around on the floor, positively screaming with laughter.

Disgust took over my body in great shudders, I wanted to throw up and cry and scream and run but I couldn’t do anything, Marcus was still holding onto my face and staring me out with his watery eyes and cackling. With more force than I thought he could possess, he pushed me backwards- I fell, tumbling down the muddy bank until I smacked my head on a tree at the bottom- narrowly missing the icy cold waters of the river below. As I lay on the ground, my head spinning, I felt something *thud* next to my leg.
Then again, *thud*
*thud thud thud*

The stones the three teenagers were throwing were landing all around me, with only a few hitting me. However, I didn’t want to take any chances, so I picked up my battered body and limped away through the trees. My legs were shaking with the pain, and my mind could hardly comprehend what had just happened...

I walked for about a mile along the river, until I reached the bottom of my garden. I could hear my legion of brothers kicking their beloved football around, and my Father shouting his orders to them. I had never felt more alone.