My name is Sarah. My story has never been shared....
It began in second grade on the school bus. I was 7 years old. I was headed home and there was only one seat available next to a boy named Ronald. It didn't seem like a big deal at first when he made me sit on the inside of the seat— he was older than me, 12, and the older kids always wanted the outside seat for themselves—but it became obvious that the purpose of me sitting on the inside seat was to keep me hidden from the other kids on the bus and prevent me from getting away. I knew it was wrong to touch other kids and let other kids touch me in personal spaces, but he was much stronger than I was. First he "tickled me" over my clothes and I tried crossing my legs and tightly tucking one foot behind the other to prevent his hands access because it made me feel funny. When he realized he couldn't reach me without obvious force he grabbed my arm and made me to give him an "over the pants" hand job. I was very confused as to what he was doing and I knew that he was doing something wrong so I tried very hard to pull away. The bus ride to my house only took ten minutes so with the bus driver's call I was able to leave my seat, but that ten minutes was one of the longest of my young life. Bruises surfaced on my wrist later that night and stayed for several days after but I was too afraid to show them to my parents because I wasn't sure they wouldn't blame me for what had happened. I had seen my dad grab my mom's wrist in similar ways and even though I knew that he was wrong to do so I figured if it was her fault it must be my fault as well.
After that day we both continued to ride the bus to school. I never sat with him again. As long as I could I would sit in the front seats of the bus where the bus driver could see everything the kids were doing. I thought as long as I stayed there that she would at least see if anything was happening to me and help. Eventually she forced me to move further back on the bus to accommodate younger children. Thankfully at that point Ronald had obtained his driver's license.
I didn't see Ronald again until middle school. I never told anyone what had happened on the school bus, but it turned out that Ronald did. He was proud. I was in the school library looking around when I heard him call my name. I looked up and recognized him immediately. I remember hoping he didn't remember the event on the bus but when we locked eyes he winked and made a sexual gesture with his hands. All of his friends looked from him to me and laughed showing their support. I was embarrassed and burning with nausea as the memories flooded back with my now teenage understanding of that day's events. Until Ronald graduated from high school and left me in peace I walked the school halls a guarded and fearful person.