Not the Person I Expected | Teen Ink

Not the Person I Expected

January 11, 2014
By Elizabeth1644 BRONZE, Sierra Vista, Arizona
Elizabeth1644 BRONZE, Sierra Vista, Arizona
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." ~Dr. Suess


The gravel and dried autumn leaves crunched under my feet as I walked anxiously toward the house. The smell of a lit fireplace nearby filled with a temporary sense of comfort. I hugged my arms closely to my chest and shivered as a breeze lifted my hair from my face. The clouds above me slowly began to devour the warm sun. I walked up the cracked sidewalk, and onto the bare porch. I was now standing at the front door. A faded orange “Welcome” mat under my dirty pink converse. I wanted to run, but my heart wanted to stay and meet the person beyond the door. The young man I had met online. Kyle. He claimed to be 15. His pictures showed a boy, shaggy red hair, and soft brown eyes. I pulled the printed picture out of my jacket pocket. I rushed to unwrinkle it and reassure myself with the smile, and bright eyes that looked up at me. I sighed, trying to comb my fingers through my hair. I reached out slowly to ring the doorbell. Shortly after ringing it, movement caught my attention; I looked up to see the shades of a window fall back into place. The sound of footsteps sent a shiver down my spine. The door opened slowly. A large, middle aged man glared at me. I stood, frozen in shock. A grin slowly grew across his face. The warm, bright eyes I had once been show, were now bloodshot, and filled with sorrow. The red hair that lay upon a smiling boy’s head was replaced with stringy brown hair. That smile. That had kept me going; appeared so friendly, was now an evil grin. I couldn’t run. Every muscle in my body was now Jell-O. I had told so much to him. Secrets, wishes, dreams… Where now retained in his mind. He reached out for my arm, his large hand rapped around my frail wrist, and in one swift movement he pulled me in. I stumbled over my own feet, and ended up tripping. Landing on my knees, I looked up at him. He towered over me. Laughing sinisterly, fidgeting with his shirt. I stood to my feet, and balanced myself. I swung at him as hard as I could. My hand made contact with his cheek, I flinched. As I pulled away, he bellowed a low, groan and put his hand on his cheek. I turned to open the door, but a stern grip kept me from even touching the door handle. I kicked, forcefully throwing my leg back and managed to kick him in the groin. With both pain and anger he released another loud yell. I turned quickly and thankfully was able to yank the door open. I bolted from the door, crying of fear. I was halfway down the driveway when a cry of loud words poured from beyond the door. They were too raspy to make sense of, so I ignored the rest of the sound that emanated from inside the open door. I ran, ignoring the harsh rain that was striking my face. I reached my house and poured through the door. I gasped to regain my breath. I pulled the strands of hair that were plastered to my face, and wiped away the streaks of tears. With no one home to run to and cry to them, I turned to the phone. I dialed the police station and told them everything. The pictures, emails, texts. All of it; I hung the phone back onto the receiver. I quickly walked back to my room and threw my laptop into my closet. I sat onto my bed and shivered as tears overpowered me. Exhausted, I lay down. What did I do wrong? Why me? Who is Kyle?
“Why did Kyle do this to me?” I whispered to myself. I shook my head, disappointed with myself. I should have known. There is no Kyle. Just a man, taking advantage of young, oblivious girls online. One, of thousands.
Kyle, now just a distant memory. It started with a picture online, and ended with a nightmare. Once something is posted online. It’s up for grabs. By everyone, and anyone.


The author's comments:
I hope this article will help young adults understand the danger of meeting someone online. To take precautions, and realize not everyone is who you think they are.

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