Some memories are haunting me tonight. Back when payphones still existed, I was 14. I walked to the store to get a pack of cigarettes and to call a crisis line. My step-father had just done it again and I was feeling pretty bad. I couldn't call from home because mom would have been pissed. I remember talking to a woman that really tried to help me. I just couldn't report it like she was asking. I remember a tall slender man with brown hair and glasses pulling up in a van. I remember telling the woman he was sitting there watching me and that I had to go. I remember her pleading with me to stay on the line as I hung up and headed away and I remember how it felt like I was vacating my body when I felt his arms wrap around me and pull me behind the store. I can't remember anything else of that night except hurting everywhere. Four years later though, he still remembered me when I took his class my senior year. I did not recognize him until he asked me to help him carry supplies to his car after school. When we got behind the school and I saw the van, my heart sank. The last thing I remember is recognizing his grip when he grabbed me again.
I keep replaying this over and over in my head trying to remember who he was and what happened. It's been twenty-five years. I remember feeling smothered but I don't know how or why. It is just so frustrating to have bits and pieces of something. I feel so angry with him and want to explode on him but I can't remember why. I don't feel justified in these feelings because I can't say anything bad happened. I can't say anything happened. I can remember arguments I had with my mother when I was two years old. I can remember almost every detail of almost every time my family did things to me but I cannot remember this guy. His name, his face or his crime. That just seems to make it so much worse.