A loud siren and louder lights. Blaring, flashing, wailing, and crying. Orange like chrysanthemums, yellow like dandelions, and red like a Christmas card. A baby in a stroller waves, and I wave back. Photos are taken that I am not posing for, in my fish tail and mermaid costume. I don’t like the lights very much. Too many kids crowding and pushing. What’s so special about a firetruck? I wonder to myself. I push forward and try to find my mum. Go in the fire truck she says. See what’s inside. Don’t be scared. So I go. Shiny, blingy, flashy metal that hurts my eyes like staring into the sun and I’m not impressed so I get out because I don’t like it. I am only eight years old and I’m trying to find my mum and there’s a boy, a boy right in front of me. I try to avoid him, I try so hard, but he gestures at me and says Come on baby let’s have s-- and I duck my head like I’m entering a very small room, a very small room like a mushroom. He gestures at me then walks past like nothing at all. Nobody sees, nobody hears because the siren is loud and there are lights that are blaring, flashing, wailing, and crying and I don’t like it at all. Where is my mum? I can’t find her and I don’t like it at all. I don’t like the way he looked at me.
I wrote this poem a while ago for closure on an incident that happened when I was pretty young. The confusion and fear I felt on that night were feelings that had haunted me for a long time. I've dealt with child a-sault multiple times throughout my life, and though this incident compares to little of what what I have suffered and what others have suffered, it was still a mark of my coming of age and loss of innocence. This poem was written 100% by me. Please ask before remixing or resharing.
