In the 3rd grade we had a very special assembly about child molestation. We watched a super cheesy video that was like, WAY too creepy. Like, dads coming into the room at night and saying things to little blonde boys with bowl cuts. Whatever. Anyway, after we were done I was like, really ready to go to recess, but one girl started crying. Apparently none of the genius teachers noticed, because she was still crying all the way to recess. When we got there the gym teacher yelled at her and the girls that were comforting her for not being in line. I had no clue what was going on, I was 8. Anyway, she went over to the teacher and told him she was molested by her cousin. He suddenly got really sympathetic, and so did everyone else in the class, because, you know, they are normal human beings with feelings and warm blood in their veins. All I could think was “Why would anyone want to molest her? She looks like Hortensia from the movie Matilda.” Don’t judge me. I was merely a boy. I have some major guilt about this now, that is why I am pouring my heart out anonymously on the internet years later.
Awh, fuck it, pic unrelated.
