There I was, hiding behind the biggest tree. I thought Suzanne would find me right away. But she didn’t. She seemed to be taking her time.

I became impatient. I couldn’t hear her voice any longer. She wasn’t calling my name like she usually did. Slowly, I peeped around the trunk, carefully, in case she caught a glimpse of me. I couldn’t understand what I saw. It didn’t make sense to me. Suzanne was lying down. All I could see was her hair, spread out against the grass, and her bare white legs.

There was something on top of her. It looked like a gigantic bag. Dark, grainy, and dirty, covering her top half. But the bag was moving, and as I watched, I understood that it was hurting her. I could hear her stifled breath, and it sounded as if she was being burned or beaten. The bag had enormous reddish hands and they were wrapped around her neck.

Never had I felt so afraid. This, I was sure, was a monster, the kind that comes in nightmares. The kind all children are frightened of. This was no nightmare; this was real life. This was broad daylight, not nighttime. She was fighting it; I could see that. She fought it with all her might. She twisted and she bucked, but it was so much stronger and bigger than she was.

I wanted to run, but I couldn’t move. I was paralyzed with fear. The monster shoved on top of her, faster and faster, with a sickening frenzy. She was making choking noises, while the monster grunted, horribly.

I felt I was going to dissolve with fear. I wet my pants. I began to cry. I wanted to scream and yell. I had no idea how to get help, where and whom to run to. The house was too far away. And if I moved, the monster would see me. It would come for me.