you creeped up behind me as if i wouldn't notice. you always had a 'tactful' way of doing it too. you would eye me from across the room to see if i was alone.
usually, i wasn't.
it seemed as though you were plotting your moves. the typical excuse was always blurted in the midst of all the uncles, "i'm going to grab some water, do you guys want anything?" and thus pursued you to coming over to me. you pretend to go into the kitchen and then make your way.
'let's go you guys!" i would yell in the hopes of playing somewhere else. to my dismay, while everyone rose, you would come up behind me and grab and carry me in your arms playfully. it didn't look odd at all. maybe that's why the rest of the kids would run away and continue on with their games.
if there weren't any rooms, you would just take me aside. we'd sit there while you caressed my arm and back. your favorite thing to do was whisper. you whispered a lot of nonsense. half of which i didn't understand since your broken english was just that. broken. "i love you, do you love me?" would be your favorite line. my most hated one.
i hate what you did to me. i hate the feelings i had to endure. i hate that you probably did this to other girls and you don't even know what you've done.