The Girl Next Door
(Tokoni, 05/06/2009)



When I was about three or four, there was this little girl who lived next door. I don’t remember a lot about her family; only that there were a LOT of snakes that lived under their house. We were always finding snakes in their yard – and ours – since our house practically butted up against their own.

This little girl – she must have been about my age, perhaps a little bit older. Now that I think of it, she must have been a little older – at least a half year, if not by one. She had curly blond locks and always wore a simple frock dress, with white panties underneath.

Now this was back in a simpler day and time when parents weren’t so protective of their children, and we were often turned loose to go run into the woods where we would play all day (or at least a couple of hours). I remember this tree that stood in our back yard, right on the edge of the woods – it was so tall, a lone pine that stood out and above all others. I would watch that tree during the storms, swaying against the storm struck sky, swaying wildly in the wind – afraid that it would come crashing down on our house, killing us all or something. . .

Anyway, back in these woods was a hole. Not really a hole, perhaps, but a fairly deep depression, filled with pine straw and the scent of musty needles. This little girl – I can’t recall her name – would come over to our back steps – they were about five runners high, entirely made of brick – and ask me out to play. My mom, not knowing what was going on, would often let me out.

This little girl (I wish I could recall her name!) would then take me by the hand and we’d go out into the woods; deep into them (though it probably really wasn’t that far), and she would lead me to that hole.

Then she’d have me undress, and would poke it in my behind – right where the ‘you know what’ comes out – and have me parade around for her, walking like a little soldier, around and around that hole, while she giggled and watched and encouraged me to stuff that stick in a little further.  And yes – it hurt bad, but because we wanted a friend, some acceptance – we complied.

Then she would throw her dress up (which is how I know she had white cotton panties), and fondle me, and sometimes she would have me lay on her and ‘do stuff’. I don’t know what stuff she was having me do – I doubt I ever succeeded in full penetration – but the thing I do remember most is walking around with that stick shoved up my ass, and her giggling and watching me do it. That was when I learned that girls weren’t built quite like me and my brother – they had nothing ‘down there’, but what they did have was . . . both interesting, and boring (because there was nothing there.)

But I’ll never forget parading around like that, looking (I guess) somewhat like a little puppy dog, with a pine branch hanging out my butt.

Later one day we were walking through the woods back on the way to our house when we came across a group of girls. They were older than me or my precocious little friend, and suddenly one of them bent over, exposing herself. I looked at her butt and what I saw was this little hole (maybe she was farting or something – I don’t know) – and I felt this sense of shock, along with a certain knowledge.

That was where my pecker belonged.

But she straightened back up, throwing her dress back down, and laughing cruelly at us two ‘little kids’, they went on their own way, and me on mine.

Later – much later – though it may have been only a few weeks or months, the little girl showed back up on my doorstep, asking if I wanted to go out and play. Of course I did – she and I had been playing this game for ages – but when I went to the back door and saw her on the top step, my brother was standing there. He had a metal bucket in his hand, and as I opened the screen door to go outside, he did something.

He took that bucket and with everything he had, he swung it upside her head. I know it drew blood because I could see it there – right on her forehead – plus there was a red rim on the red bucket that was redder than all the rest.

The little girl ran away, never to come back again.

I lost my friend that day, all due to a jealous brother who didn’t understand (or perhaps he did, that’s why he did what he did) – and have ever since wondered why.

Why did he hit her so hard, driving my friend away?

Why did she have me shoving that stick up my ass? Was something going on in her own home that I was unaware of?

Where did she learn something like that?

And right there at the top of all my questions is the one: how did I know that my ‘thing’ belonged in that girl’s ‘hole’ when she exposed herself to me?

Answers I don’t know; questions I’ll always ask, things to wonder about.

Life is strange sometimes.

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