Foreign Neighborhood

"I hate this," I say out loud as I walk on the sidewalk in this unfamiliar part of town with my fear growing. My name is Rebecca and I am from El Salvador. I am 19 years old and part of a foreign exchange program with the EEUU, or what people here call the United States. I go to the college that is located within this city, where I am studying to get an engineering degree.

I am actually considered one of the smartest people in my college of engineering as told to me by many professors. I also have made the Dean's List this, my very first semester. My smarts are actually why I was chosen to be a part of this foreign exchange program as they knew I would take full advantage of every American opportunity.

One small problem I have is that I have to live with my sponsor family as the program states that I have to, just like the girl that went to El Salvador has to stay with her sponsor family. It would be so much easier for me to stay on campus because my sponsor family lives so far away. To get to college I have to walk for a while, then take

two

buses. Not that I mind, it's just the bus system is so strange in this country. Where I am from, it is linear and you know right where to get off. Here the routes seem planned just to confuse you. Then again, everyone I have ever known has told me I have no sense of direction.

This brings us to where I am now and why I've been walking for about 20 minutes in this scary looking part of town. The bus broke down. I was heading home and got on the second bus that would have taken me to the Park and Ride but then the bus just stopped in some part of the city I don't know. The driver then announced that we all had to get off for legal reasons. He mentioned another bus would be coming, but then got off the bus and disappeared so I couldn't ask more about the bus that never did arrive.

I did hang around for a little bit, but when it seemed that no bus was going to come, I decided to start walking. I did this in hopes of finding another bus stop or maybe a policeman that could help me. I would like to call my sponsor family for help or to pick me up, but my cell doesn't have any signal in this part of town. And that doesn't surprise me. This part of town looks very scary and very, well, low-class. I've seen many places that are poor but the people that live there have class, but this isn't that sort of place. This looks like a place where the people are poor because they want to be, where they don't care if they steal or hurt anyone.

What concerns me most about this area is the symbol that I see a lot, the symbol that my foster family said to stay away from if I saw someone wearing it. The symbol that is a white X made of stars surrounded by the color red. I know it is the symbol on the South's flag during the American Civil War, but my sponsor family said that it means something different today. That if I saw someone wearing it and I was alone I should walk away from that person.

You see, I see that symbol quite a bit around here. I see it on the hats of men that are sitting and drinking beers. I see on bumper stickers on trucks. I even saw a woman wearing it as a shirt that looked more like a bra than a shirt. It was even painted on the side of a trailer.

I know this area is a bad place because of the movies I've seen, as strange as that may sound. This area is populated by old trailers and rusty RV's, where the grass surrounding them is littered with car parts, empty beer bottles and other trash. The sidewalk that I walk on has turned to a dirt path and even the roads that lead to these trailers and RV this community aren't paved.

The best thing I can do right now is to keep my head down and keep walking. Not sure where I am going, but if I keep going, I'll find a bus stop or a cop, I know I will. The chances of it are very high. Or at the very least, I will find an area that has some cell reception. The only thing I need to make sure I avoid is engaging anyone here in conversation. That's too high of a risk to get robbed or killed.

"Hey, girlie!" I hear a man yell. In sheer reaction I turn to look at the voice and when I do, I curse under my breath. Why did I do that?! I can't interact with anyone here! If I do, I could be robbed or worse! Everyone here are probably murderers and criminals. Someone good like me won't last too long a minute here if I start interacting and talking with them.

Yet now that I'm looking at him, I know I have to respond. If I don't, he might get mad. If he gets mad, he might chase me. If he chases me, he might have a weapon like a hunting knife. If he has a knife, he could do something horrible like cut my hands and feet off. And all because I didn't tell him hello.

"Y-Y-Yes?" I stammer out in response. I try to sound strong and sure of myself, but it comes out to show just how terrified I am. The man is two trailers in the trailer park and I am still on the sidewalk, so at least there is a good amount of distance between us.

"You've walked past us 4 times now, you lost?" The man asks with a bit of a chuckle. I frown at this. 4 times? I've walked past him 4 times? Surely not. Granted, I think I have been favoring turning left, but surely I haven't walked by 4 times. I couldn't be that stupid. Then again, everyone says I have no sense of direction...

"I...I...," I call back, not sure what to say. The man holds a bottle of beer in one hand and looks at me to hear what I'm going to say. Unlike many of the others I've seen here, he actually looks clean. His clothes are torn and stained, but they at least look washed. He looks the type that wouldn't smell.

The man looks at me for a moment confused when I don't say anything else. Then he turns to the side and says something but it's not directed at me. That's when I notice there's a card table and 3 other guys sitting at it right next to him. They are partly hidden by the trailer in front of them, that's why I didn't see them at first.

Noticing that there are 4 total, my stomach drops as this is going bad to worse. It's not just one man, but 4. Oh dear, oh dear. 4 against 1.

"Come here," the man says and his voice is remarkably friendly which concerns me. It makes me believe that this is some sort of trick. That he's trying to lure me into a false sense of security then attack. He then waves me over to come to him and his friends. He does it very casually and not forceful.

I know I should walk away and fast, but the fear I feel makes my feet walk towards him instead of away. After all, if I walk away, he and his friends could chase me, right? That act might make them so upset that they come after me. Maybe, for the moment, it's best to just see what he wants instead of making things worse for myself.

As I walk closer I see that he's a 40 something year old guy, the sort that looks like he works on fixing tractors or other farm equipment. He's dressed in blue jeans and a gray shirt button down shirt that is opened with a white undershirt underneath. His face shows the stubble of someone who hasn't shaved in a few days but his hair looks combed and styled.

"What's a young thing like you doing out here?" He asks as I get closer, his voice still carrying that friendly tone. Not able to help it, I stop at least 10 feet away from him as I don't want to get to close. After all, I don't know what he means to do. The further I am from him, the safer.

"B-B-Bus," I begin, my voice stammering out the words. My fear seems to have gone from my stomach to up my throat and spread to my brain. It makes the full complete sentences I want to say to come out fragmented.

"Bus...Home...Sidewalk...Broken...School." The words come out of my mouth without much I can do about it. What I mean to say is that the bus broke down on my way home and that I'm walking the sidewalk to find another bus stop, but instead it comes out as if I have mental issues.

It's now I notice that I've started to tremble. I'm actually trembling. I try hard to control it but damn it, I'm scared. It's not the first time this has happened, but it seems more visible than other times. I know I'm acting like a scardy cat, and I hate it, but I can't help it. I'm never been good at things like this.

When I was younger I used to be bullied all the time because of being scared. I hate having to stand up for myself. I hate it a lot. And people seem to sense it and zero in on you due to it too.

I watch the guy look at me with a bemused look, then look at his friends who I now see are playing cards. He looks at his friends with a look that seems to say, 'look at this, isn't it funny?' His friends don't seem too interested though as they keep staring down at whatever cards they hold making me think that whatever game this is, there's money involved.

"Scared, ain't ya?" The guy asks me, still in that upbeat and friendly tone. My eyes widen at this as that is what I was scared of him finding out...about how scared I am. He knows that I'm scared. That is one of the things you have to avoid letting bad people know. Once they know you are scared of them, they hold all the power. And now he knows. Oh dear, oh dear.

The man laughs a dry laugh at this and turns to walk back to the table. He sits down and picks up his cards and I get the strangest feeling that I've hurt his feelings, as weird as that sounds. For a moment I consider how rude I'm being. That maybe he really is a nice man just trying to help and here I am treating him like a criminal out for murder. I should be ashamed of myself.

"Yeah Joe, the little thing seems utterly terrified by you and your vicious crime-filled aura," one of his friends comments after glancing at me. This makes them all laugh a hearty laugh. The guy, who is apparently named Joe smiles at this as if he finds this just as funny.

"Maybe she's scared cause she heard about all the people you robbed and murdered this week. Tell me, how many is it? 10? 20? 30 people," another man asks and they all laugh again. They all look at their cards, even Joe who has picked his up.

"Yeah, well, she better be scared of me, cause I'm robbing her," Joe comments while looking at his cards and again they all laugh.

My mouth drops at this and I feel the color drain out of my face. Did I really just hear that? Did I hear him say he is robbing me? My stomach drops again and a fresh coat of fear rushes over me.

"You...you're robbing me?" I ask, my voice high pitch from disbelief. To my question everyone at the table stops and looks at me. They all wear the same expression, but I can't make out what it is. It's almost like they are stunned or surprised by my question. Like they don't believe what I'm asking.

"W-What?" Joe asks in a confused voice and looks at me, then at his friends. "I mean, yes. Yes. Yes of course I'm robbing you, you stupid bitch," he sort of stammers out and he gains a deeper tone. He then sits up straighter and puffs out his chest.

"You come in my yard, my property, you got to pay for it," he says in a much deeper and confident voice. He sounds like a bad actor in a horrible movie that knows they are overacting the way he says this.

"Cell, wallet, money, all of it, on the table, right now...or else," he tells me in a much deeper voice. To this, his friends roar with laughter. They find this extremely funny and if I wasn't so scared I might too as he seems like a caricature of a person inside of a real person.

I stand there, stunned and cold. I knew something like this was going to happen. I just knew it! Why did I go to talk to him? How could I be so stupid?!

I turn my head to look around, thinking maybe, just maybe, a cop or someone would come to help me. But there's no one around. Not a soul. Everyone is either in their trailers or far from here.

So, feeling stupid and weak, I pull out my wallet and my cell from my back pockets. Wanting to do this fast, I walk forward and put them in the middle of the table they are playing at. I do this in hopes they will be happy and tell me to get out of here.

When I place the items, Joe looks at me, his mouth wide open. He again wears a look of great surprised or being stunned. When he looks at me, I look down as I don't want to make him mad, but I do notice the rest have a similar expression, like they didn't think I would do it. Or maybe they thought they would have to catch or beat me before they got my items.

"She did it," I hear one whisper to another. "You see that?" I hear another whisper. To this I begin to wonder about what is going on. That maybe me being a foreigner, I am thinking what is happening isn't really happening. That maybe he wasn't serious when he said he was robbing me.

"Is-is this it bitch?" Joe asks, seeming to catch himself. Now his voice sounds normal again, but confident. To add to this, his face no longer looks surprised. At least that's what it seems from the corner of my eye as I'm still looking down. He reaches over and grabs my wallet where he opens it up and starts to look at the few things I have in there, such as my school ID and the few dollars I have.

"This isn't worth much," he says and I can see him look around at his friends in the corner of my eye. I nearly open my mouth to tell him that the cell alone cost $200 but I decide it's best not to say anything at all. I just keep hoping he tells me to get out of here.

"For wasting our time and coming here...we are robbing you...of your clothes," Joe states. I jerk my head up and look at him, my face burning red. My heart starts to pound now as I can't believe what I just heard. Yet...he isn't even looking at me. He's looking down at his cards. In fact, he's covering part of his face with his cards as if trying to hide his face. It's something that I would do when I'm trying not to show anyone that I'm holding in a laugh.

My clothes? They are robbing me of my clothes? THEY ARE ROBBING ME OF MY CLOTHES! This can't be happening. It just can't be. Stuff like this can't happen.

"Do...Do I have to?" I find myself asking in the most pathetic voice ever. Yet again Joes looks at me with this surprised or dumbfounded sort of look. For a moment he just stares at me and I swear the look he gives me is as if he's trying to figure if I'm messing with him or not.

"Yes you have to do it you stupid bitch. All your clothes, even the bra and panties, right on this table," he tells me, and slaps the table.

A strange thing happens when he says the words bra and panties. The extreme fear I feel suddenly goes away just for a moment and a warmth replaces it...between my legs. It's a dark warmth, the sort I've felt only a hint of before. I normally see it when I watch a movie that has a forced sex scene or something about bondage.

The warmth gains a tingling now, and it occurs to me that I'm becoming aroused. I tell myself it's just the fear that is doing this to me...that it's the fear making me aroused. This is the worst time for something like this to happen to me, but I've read stories about this. That in moments of great fear or in moments of having no control, people can come aroused and even orgasm.

Now all of them watch me as if I am a toy on display instead of looking at their cards. They seem curious of what I am about to do. Again I look about, hoping to see a policemen or a white knight coming to save me, but like before, there's no one here on this dirt path. No one is coming to save me, and as horrible as that is, it makes between my legs tingle even more.

Knowing what I must do, I untie and remove both of my shoes as they watch, feeling my face stay hot and red. Once my shoes are off, I peel off one sock, then the other to become barefoot on this dirt path. I then put my shoes and socks on the table and notice two of the guys moving everything on the center of the table out of the way so I can do this. I can see their great interest and it makes me wonder if they are really criminals or not. That maybe they are just tricking me or something.

"Look at these. Cheap shoes," Joe comments disgusted as he grabs one of my shoes. When he does this, the other men suddenly do the same thing as if following his lead of what to do. I nearly say, "I'm sorry," in response to this but catch myself as how pathetic would that be.

My hands grab the bottom of my shirt now and start to lift it upward. I feel my bare stomach come out to the evening air. Then I feel the bottom of my bra, then my bra cups, then my cleavage until all of my bra is seen.

My face is very red as they see just how large I am in my bust as I wear baggy clothes to hide my size. No one ever takes a busty girl seriously so I have to hide it for my classes. Else everyone would say I get good grades because of the size of my breasts.

I lift the shirt up and pull it over my head where it catches with my hair briefly. Then the shirt comes off of me complete and I'm in my bra for these criminals. Unable to help it, my face shows my great humiliation at having to do this. With a frown and not looking at any of them, I put my shirt on the middle of the table. As I do this, I find that the tingling between my legs isn't going away. It's actually worse. That I'm not just getting aroused but wet at horrible this all is.

Next I unbutton my blue jeans. With a deep breath I pull them down, revealing my panties that I got right before I left my country. They are of the American flag on the backside and an eagle in the front. As I pull my jeans to my ankles, I can feel their eyes on my bare legs and my panties, but when I bend more, I sense their eyes going to my cleavage.

When my jeans are at my ankles, I step out of them so I am only wearing my underwear. Going slow, I fold my jeans as I take a glance around to see if there is anyone here yet that will save me. Or is it to see if anyone else is watching? In either case, there's no one at all.

"Not sure we'll get any money for this stuff, maybe for the panties," Joe comments in that gruff voice. It's this statement that makes me feel like this isn't a bunch of pervs wanting to see me naked. They are really stealing my clothes to sell and to make money. All this is, is robbery. Nothing more. And as long as I do as they say, I'll be ok. They are just robbing me.

My hands start to tremble now as the next things to come off will show...me. I bite my lip as I try to think of something to save me, but I draw a blank. That there are some magic words that will make them say that I don't have to do it. That will save me. But the chance of me thinking of anything is laughable.

Knowing that I am wasting time, I decide I better just do it...or else risk making them mad. Then a sick part of me realizes something. I WANT to do it. The moment I think this, I curse myself as I know that it can't be true. I'm not some weirdo, or some sex perv that would ever enjoy this! I'm being robbed! I can't be enjoying this! But...I can't lie to myself. With each piece of clothing that is removed, I become even more aroused.

I decide I better remove my bra and panties fast to not make that big of a deal out of it. My hands move behind me and through they tremble horribly, they find the clasp. I unclasp my bra easily and it starts to slide down my shoulders, freeing my breasts. But I'm able to slide my arm under my bra where I can hold my breasts to hide them, or as much as I can of them. My bra then slides all the way, where I place it on the table as well.

Stepping back I use my free hand to grab the waistband of my panties. I pull them down, making them slide to my ankles. In that single tug I make it so they see what I hide the most...my womanhood. My precious and sweet womanhood. They see what only a few people have. Just like they see that I shave myself and hate hair there.

I try not to dwell on this as I step out of my panties then pick them up. I put my American panties on the table and proceed to use my hand to cup my mound in a desperate act to cover myself. Now I stand there, looking away, robbed of everything, even my dignity.