Want a little candy? Guest Post (@rebeccathiderman)

He’s still out there... 

Year 2000, summer, Saturday, 2pm I was playing with my little brother who was four years old at the time. We took turns riding our only bike in our ridiculously large yard. We lived in a huge house in the middle of Södertälje, a little town outside of the capital of Sweden. We were sweaty, hungry, thirsty and exhausted. A guy showed up in the back of our yard. He was fully black dressed. Black tight t-shirt, tight black jeans, black shimmery shoes and long black hair. Was it strange that he was standing there? yes, it was a bit strange but we didn’t think more of it. He had a huge smile on his face, he was nice, handsome, tall. “do you like candy?” he asked with a smile on his face. Yes, yes of course I like candy, who doesn’t like candy? This is a classic example. You are taught, since day one not to talk to strangers, not to get in the car with random people and not to eat the candy a stranger offers. 

          All of it, I knew. He wanted me to come closer to him so that he could me the candy. I hesitated for a minute. Why couldn’t he just reach his arm and give it to me? When he saw my hesitation again he offered me money instead. I, a six year old girl, hungry for money was blind-sided by the shimmery coins in his hands. I went down and stood next to him. He was much, much taller than me, when I tried to grab the money he smiled one last time and pushed me down on the grass, real hard. I was terrified. Why did he do that? wait what? what’s going on? he held me down and I panicked. He grabbed my leggings and tried to pull them down. My whole body froze. Why is he doing this to me? what is he going to do? He let me go and unbuckled his belt and pants. I stared at him. So, so scared. I could’ve gotten away, but I was in such shock I couldn’t move, or talk, or scream, or breath. I just layed there on the grass in the back of my yard. My brother was still there, he watched us. Since he was young he didn’t know what was going on. The man touched himself and made noises. Finally, I was able to scream, I screamed so loud and much but no one seemed to hear me. He wanted me to touch his penis. And I don’t know if I did, because there are so many things I’ve forgotten. He pulled down my pants and humped my legs for what I guess were a few seconds, but what felt like a lifetime. I told my brother to go get mom and dad. “Get them now!” I was crying so hard. I was a mess. And, I think he finally got the picture. He ran inside the house. “There’s an old man kissing Rebecca” he told them. Within seconds they were there. And all of a sudden I heard police sirens. Are they coming for me? Is this over? What just happened? He got pale as a ghost and ran away. My mom who had no idea the cops were there for me, ran out on the street telling them to help her daughter who had just been attacked. “We know, that’s why we are here” they replied. How? how did they know? We later found out a family who happened to have had dinner across the lake had seen it all and dialed 112 (911).

I was brought to the police station where a male cop asked me a couple of questions like “Do you know what the female and male parts are called” and “did he touch himself? or you?” I told him no. I lied. I was so ashamed I couldn’t even look at him, and knowing this was all being filmed it just made me deny everything. Like I said, I was scared, but mostly embarrassed. They also interviewed my little brother. They asked him the exact same questions. “Did he touch himself?” “Yes” he replied. It was easier for him, because he didn’t have anything to be ashamed and/or humiliated about/for.

 A trial went on for a couple of days. I wasn’t there. They figured I was too young. They showed the videos from the interviews instead. He was found not guilty. Why? I don’t know. I thought, for a good 13 years that he was sent back to his country or something. I don’t know if that’s something my mind made me believe or if that’s something someone told me, but I was later told he lived right next to my best friend (at the time) where I basically spent all my days. Which makes it creepier. Was I someone he had been following and watching or was it just a coincidence? I’m nineteen, soon twenty years old, and this still terrifies me. I can’t walk alone without turning around every few seconds and feeling watched. This man is still free, he lives in the same city and my mom saw him last year. I don’t remember his face therefor everything and everyone that has a similar description to his, makes me nervous. I have constant anxiety attacks where I’m scared he might recognize me. Putra Wilmuun, that’s his name. 

He ruined my life.