He came. Smiled. Looked at her. Looked at her innocence. Looked around to see that the girl’s mother has as usual left for work, and left her in his and his wife’s custody. Afterall they were the only relatives the girl and her mother had in the town. He again smiled at her. Made her sit on his lap. Tried to play around with his foolish words. She was young. Not yet a teenager. Growing. Blossoming into a young woman. He asked her silly questions and she tried to run away from him. He grabbed her by her arm and forced her on his lap again. She tried to wriggle out again but it was all in vain. He was a man, a full grown up man, afterall. Then he did it again. Did what he has been doing for the past few months. Touched her, at places where he shouldn’t. She felt weird, looked around to find some help, but there was no one. Not her cousins, not the wife of the man and not her sister. Just alone. She tried again to break free. He pushed her back again. This time with more aggression. She winced. With pain. With disbelief. She did not know what was happening, for she was too young. With time, the instances increased. Now in front of her little cousins, who had no idea what was happening. She felt pain. Hurt. Disgust. Disgust with the man and with herself. Untill she decided to bring it in the light. She went and told the mother,who forbade her to ever step into the house. But the mother did not confront him nor his wife. Was she right? Was it justified? Maybe yes. For she did not want to ruin the relationship she had with the wife. Albeit she took precautions. The girl did not see his face for the next few years. Untill she was old and strong enough to tackle him. Whenever she did meet him in family functions, the mother always ensured she was around.. always.
Perhaps the man learnt his lesson for he never dared touch her again.