Why Did I Wear a Skirt? (July 23, 2019)

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“Are you in here?”
My legs shook as I felt her footsteps closing in. I wasn’t really hiding, but I didn’t want to be found. I wanted to leave; I wanted to run. 
“Liza?” she cooed in a sing-song voice.
I didn’t say anything. I was frozen to my favorite spot in the corner of the library. As she turned the corner and saw me, her eyes lit up. So did mine, but not with excitement – with terror.
“Hey, how’s it going?” I tried to hide the shaking in my voice, but failed miserably.
“Why so nervous? It’s just me,” she soothed as she sat down too close to me and brushed her hand against my leg. Why did I wear a skirt today? 
“Oh sorry, I’m not nervous,” I lied, “just thinking about what I should wear for the first day of school tomorrow.” 
“How about I help? I remember my first day of second grade.” But I knew she wasn’t thinking about what she wore. The sinister look in her eyes told me a different story. 
“I really like this skirt,” she complimented as her rough hand went up and down my bare skin. 
I tensed when she slipped her hand under my skirt. I squeezed my legs together and tried to subtly get up.
“Oh thanks, I just got it. But I really have to get back downstairs. My parents will be here soon.” I turned to walk away, but she grabbed my arm and sat me back down. Her tight grasp on my wrist made a red mark that never went away. 
“It’s okay. Don’t worry about them. They won’t forget you here,” her ice cold fingers brushed my inner thigh.
I wish she could forget me. I wish I could forget her. I want to disappear.
She continued to slide her hand up my legs, slowly pulling at the line of my underwear. I sat still. Frozen in place. I closed my eyes and pretended to be anywhere else: with my family on the boat, baking with my grandma, running around with my sister. But I wasn’t. I was here. In this room, and I couldn’t move. 
I didn’t feel. I refused to feel. 
“You should wear this skirt for school tomorrow… it looks nice on you.” She got up and walked away. Leaving me there – a discarded T-shirt on the floor. 
Mom never noticed that I threw the new skirt away.

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