"Time for bed, Emily."
I put down the Harry Potter book I was reading and looked at the clock; nine-thirty, as usual. I had given up protesting about having to go to bed so early, even in the summer. I knew Mom wanted me in bed so early was so she could start hitting the bottle without me seeing her. She's been doing that a lot since Dad left. I had learned to use her weakness to my advantage. I kissed her goodnight, went to my room, and waited for her to drink herself to sleep. That's when the best part of my day started.
My plan was to sneak out of the house and go to the county park across the street. It's big, with a soccer field, a softball diamond, four basketball courts, two exercise trails, and my favorite part - a playground with slides and swings and jungle gyms. Even at fourteen, I still enjoy playing with kids' stuff like that. But any more when I go there in the daytime, some of the parents give me dirty looks, as if they don't think a teenager should be hanging out with their precious little brats. That's why I like going at night, so I can be by myself and do whatever I want.
I finished the chapter I was reading while I waited for Mom to anesthetize herself. It took awhile, but eventually I heard her snoring softly, and I knew it was time to go. I put on one of my favorite 'little girl' outfits, a striped skirt that barely covered my cute little tush, and an old Disney World T-shirt that was a size too big for me. I really like that skirt, not just because it lets me show off my legs and butt, but because it has deep pockets. I'm kinda small for my age, and when I put my hair up in pigtails and dress like I did that night, I look a lot younger than fourteen. And that was part of my plan. I was on a mission.
I quietly opened the back door and headed across the street. Of course I know the park is a dangerous place for a young girl to be alone, but that's part of the fun. I mean, if all you do in life is the safe thing, are you really living? Mom is always telling me horrible stories about all the bad things that can happen to girls in places like that at night. She's really been really freaking out lately, since Alicia Martinez was raped there a few weeks ago. I don't understand what the big deal is. I figure Alicia is just a dumb cunt who got what she deserved. It was almost like she was asking for it, a twelve-year-old girl playing in the park, alone, after dark. OK, I do the same thing, but I'm a lot more careful and prepared.
I couldn't get the idea of what had happened to Alicia out of my mind. Being raped; it sounds bad, but just how bad could it be? I mean, everybody likes sex, or at least they talk like they do, and isn't that just another kind of sex? But I had to admit that it's probably a pretty nasty way for a girl to lose her virginity. Then there's the whole violence thing. The guy that attacked Alicia forced her to do what he wanted by holding a knife to her throat. She could have easily been killed if she had fought back, or if homicide was part of the thrill for him. I had tried to picture myself being accosted like that, and wondering how hard I would resist. Would it be worth endangering my life just to prevent a guy from sticking his thing in me? I wasn't sure. Not that I really wanted to be raped of course, but thinking about it added some adventure and excitement into my otherwise dull life.
After the attack, the county commission wanted to close the park at night, but when they realized that would mean putting a fence all the way around it, they backed off. Instead, they handled the problem by putting up more lights and posting a bunch of signs warning people to be on the lookout for strangers. The sheriff promised to add more patrols in the area, and everybody seemed to be happy.
Despite the increased attention, the creep that had raped Alicia hadn't been caught, and I had a feeling that whatever itch it was that had driven him to attack her hadn't gone away. He might assume that things had calmed down, and think it safe to come back to his favorite hunting ground. That was another reason I had been going to the park at night lately. When I was younger, I used to enjoy teasing the dirty old men that hung around the playground by giving them little peep shows. A quick glimpse up my dress when I came down a slide, or letting my skirt fall down when I hung from my knees on the jungle gym were two of my favorites. It had been so much fun teasing the perverts when I was younger that I figured coming face-to-face with a real, live rapist, on my terms, might be even more fun.
By the time I got to the park it was after midnight, a little late even for me. At first I just walked around, checking to see if anybody was there. I passed one old lady out walking her dog. She and her mutt both gave me dirty looks, and I'm sure she wondered what a kid like me was doing there, but she didn't say anything. As I got nearer to the playground, I saw a couple of teenagers making out on one of the benches. They were so wrapped up in each other that they didn't notice me as I walked by. I thought about doubling back and watching them from behind a tree, but watching really isn't my thing. Besides, I had already accomplished what I had come for. There was a guy following me; the fish was nibbling at the bait.
I made my way to the playground, humming and skipping like the little girl I was pretending to be. I wandered around the jungle gym and slides and seesaws, as if trying to decide what I wanted to play on first. Actually what I was doing was making sure that my new friend was still interested. I spotted him easily, crouched behind a trashcan, like the world's worst spy. I got on a swing, facing away from him, and started to hum the theme from Sesame Street as I went higher and higher. I slowed to a stop and sat there. My heart was beating fast as I waited for him to make his move. I didn't have to wait long before I heard him running up behind me. I jumped off the swing and turned around. I could have screamed, but that might have attracted attention, and I didn't want that anymore than he did. Instead, I put my hands up to my face, kind of like that stupid kid in 'Home Alone', and said, in my best little girl voice, "What do you want?"
"Relax, kid," he said. "I'm not gonna hurt you. Don't you want somebody to play with? You look lonely"
I saw a glint of something shiny in his hand. He hadn't threatened me yet, but he wasn't trying to hide the fact that he was armed either.
"Um, I don't think so, mister. I have to go anyway, it's late."
As I turned to leave, he reached out and grabbed my arm. He clamped his other hand, the one holding the knife, over my mouth. He pulled me over to the edge of the playground, into the shadows. When we got there he let go of my arm, but his knife was poking my belly. "Don't make a sound, kid, or it might be your last one. Now, we can do this easy, or hard. All I want is a little blowjob. Do you know what that is?"
I shook my head, trying to act as young and innocent as I could. Now that I had a good look at him, I was a little disappointed. He was a small guy, only a couple inches taller than I was, with a face full of acne scars and the remains of one deep gash over his left eye. I wondered if that was from one of his less successful attempts at seduction. The hand holding the blade at my midsection was shaking, and he was breathing heavily. He was nervous and unsure of himself, just as I had expected. "Let me see your tits," he ordered, the shakiness of his voice belying the bad-guy image he was trying to project.
I did as he asked, quickly pulling my shirt over my head. I wasn't wearing a bra, and his eyes latched onto the sight of my small breasts like a starving man eyeing a stack of pancakes. He reached out with his free hand and clumsily squeezed one of my pert little titties. He acted like he didn't know what to do next, and I tried hard not to laugh at his confusion.