I was 6 years old when I was introduced to Mark. His piercing green eyes and greying beard made me curious and study him closely. I was told he was Mums new friend. He came around to our house a lot and loved to play outside with me and watch my favorite shows. Quickly, Mark became a prominent male figure in my life and Mum seemed happy that I had someone to look up to other than her.
This is my daughter, Charlotte. Charlotte, this is Mark, he's a good friend of mine.
About 6 months later Mum told me we were going on a trip to Bali with Mark and his kids and I would have the opportunity to meet them. She said they were around my age and couldn’t wait to meet me. One night close to the trip, Mum and I were in the bathroom brushing our teeth, the sound of the tap running as she rinsed her mouth. I whispered “I have a funny feeling about Mark, something doesn’t sit right.” “what makes you say that?” Mum questioned, turning the faucet off. “I’m not sure.” I stated plainly, looking down, embarrassed I had even brought it up. She hugged me tight and told me not to worry “I’m strong and Mark is nice, he wouldn’t hurt us.”
What makes you say that?
I'm not sure
I have a funny feeling about Mark
One night, towards the end of our trip all of us (Me, Mum, Mark, Jess and Josh) headed down to the pool at night time. The pool lights casting a deep blue over the area and made the water look extremely inviting. Palm trees surrounding the area, the warm breeze of Bali rustling their leaves and drifting lazily through my hair. On the far end of the pool there was a mini swim up bar which me and Josh were trying to throw chocolate into while Jess and the adults relaxed on the day beds and spa. I can’t remember when things started going south, but I remember the increase of yelling and tension around the pool