She was five, a blonde haired, fair child who was always happy and giggling. The baby of the family, her short legs struggled to keep up with her much older siblings as they ran through the yard.
“Wait for me!”
There was so real surprise that she was put in Mark’s old room before the adoption was even finalized. He didn’t need it anymore; he had stayed with his mom for the majority of the time since the divorce. So the newly adopted five year old was put into his old room.
That one summer day, it was supposed to be her nap time. The rest of the mish-mashed family was outside in the sun when thirteen year old Mark came upstairs to the room he used to occupy, to the room he had spent his childhood in, and opened the door to the child who couldn’t fall asleep with the peals of laughter from the family outside. He said nothing as he pushed into the room. She was laying on a baby blanket with pink and green elephants on it. The edges were ruffled and soft.
He said nothing as he pulled off her shirt and shorts. She started to protest as he pulled off her underwear, and he pushed her down onto the baby blanket. He began to explore her body with his hands, the non-existent breasts, the pale skin on her thighs…
She was confused, and she got up to run into the closet, trying to shut the panel slated door on her naked body.
He pried the door open, and the light from the summer sun fell onto her skin. He ran his fingers from her tiny shoulders down to the small, completely smooth mound between her legs. And he slipped his dirty fingers of one hand between her folds, as his other hand clasped over her mouth. He explored her childhood for a few moments, before the door downstairs slammed.
He scrambled to dress her again, shushing her tears, before closing the door to the room that used to be his.
She was five.