Letting sleeping dogs lie

When I was five years old, I lived in Sydney with my grandmother. She worked at an Op-Shop as the Manageress. There were many delivery men there over the years I remember her working there, but there was one in particular I will never forget.
His face is tattooed in my mind. He was balding and had a shaven head, but wasn’t old… maybe 40? His face is hard to describe, but it’s not important what he looked like really.
I was out in the shop playing with the toys that were for sale, as I usually did, I was five remember. I was sitting towards the back of the shop, next to the storeroom door. I heard what sounded like a man groaning in pain, I got up and walked into the storeroom. The deliveryman had his back to me but I could see he was playing with his groin area. “Are you alright?” I asked him in my quiet voice.
He jumped and began to roughly play with his pants, obviously surprised in being caught. “Yeah, you know when your shirt is tucked into your pants and it rubs against your belly and annoys you?” he ran through the words so fast I could hardly understand him. I just nodded my head in agreement. “Well yeah, they were like that and I had to fix them up” and he ran out of the storeroom. I never told anyone.
I’m not sure how much later it was, maybe a couple of weeks, I was playing with the toys and he was in the storeroom. This time I heard his quietly calling my name; I got up off of the floor and went out the back.
I walked over to him, I was nervous and didn’t know what he wanted. He pushed me towards the back of the storeroom where we couldn’t be seen. He undid his fly and pulled out his penis. My eyes just about popped out of my head, I had never seen one before.
“Touch it” he told me. I just looked up at him. “Touch it” he repeated. When I did nothing, he reached down and grabbed my small hand, wrapping my fingers around his dick. He guided my hand into a stroking motion “keep doing that” he told me and closed his eyes.
My whole body was shaking as I did as he told me. What hurts me so much now is that my grandmother was just out in the store. If I had screamed or called for her, she would have come in and stopped it all. I was too quiet and too scared to do anything.
He began to grow quickly in my hand. “Put it in your mouth” he whispered to me.
I looked up at him, tears pricking my eyes. When I didn’t do anything he grabbed onto my head, causing the tears to roll down my cheeks.
“I want my Nan,” I sobbed. The man looked at me, groaned, shoved himself back into his pants and walked out.
I sat down where I was and cried. Worse could have happened, but I was still so shaken up by the whole thing.
I never told my Nan about what happened, to be honest, I completely blocked it from my memory for years, until I was 19 and was talking to J. We were talking about child molestation and how the people that do it should be locked up forever. Suddenly it all came flooding back to me. I guess I just felt so at ease with J, that my mind relaxed enough for me to remember it.
He told me I should tell me Nan now, but I could never do that. Just let sleeping dogs lie.

Am I a good person?

In a nutshell… no. I try to be, I don’t intend on going out and being a horrible person, just sometimes I don’t think before I say or I act. This usually results in an argument and tears… the tears are almost always on my behalf.
First off I need to start at the very beginning, and how I came to realise that I am infact a bad person. I started my job when I was eighteen years of age; I lived at the stud in communal quarters with two other girls and an older man. The man was 46 at the time.
After a few disagreements at work, a female colleague and myself went to our boss to put a complaint out against the man (J) that I live with and work with because of the way he spoke to us. He was very abusive with his words. He ended up getting a written warning over it and we were told to stay out of his way.
I soon turned nineteen, and then later on that year small duplexes were built for us girls and a house was renovated for the males. The house hadn’t yet been finished so J moved into the duplex next to me. We had begun talking slightly over the first couple of days we lived next to each other, but even from the day I started working we had never really had a conversation.
Over the next couple of weeks we began talking more and more, and eventually began flirting with one another.
“What are you doing?” J asked me one evening as we sat on the veranda talking. This had become our daily bonding session; we would stay up til 10-11 every night chatting.
“My back’s itchy and I can’t reach it,” I mumbled as I tried to itch the scratch that was just out of reach.
“Let me help” J responded and slid over the next to me, sliding his hand under my clothes and resting his palm on the skin on my back. I held my breath as I felt him rub my upper back gently with his fingers. They felt rough and dry from years of neglect working the land. I thought they felt wonderful.
The next night I was admiring J’s tattoos on his upper arms, really I just wanted to see his muscles; I have a thing with muscly arms. “Show me your tattoo, the one you showed me a couple of months ago when you got it” J said to me eyeing my hip.
I had gotten a tattoo on my hip, just above my pubic hair, a few months before hand and had showed him just to tease him.
I lifted my shirt up to my mid belly and with my other hand pulled my jeans down slightly, just enough to expose my tattoo. “Can I see what it feels like?” he asked, and before I could answer his fingers were running gently across my flesh. I gasped and held my breath, feeling the warmth of his skin on mine.
Without this turning into soft-core porn, I’ll just say nothing happened that night. We continued chatting and laughing. Two weeks later he moved to another house on the property. It took a couple of minutes to walk to see him after work, so most afternoons he would invite me around. We would sit on his veranda and continue our usual nightly chats.
One night we were inside sitting in front of the fire, his roommate and the roommate’s girlfriend were home so we went into his bedroom. After an hour or so in his room watching movies and cuddling he grabbed me by the hand and we snuck outside.
“Let’s go to your place” he whispered as we tip-toed down the hallway.
We held hands as we walked to my house, it was late at night, and because I’m scared of the dark I held onto him as we walked. As we passed the barn, he suddenly pushed me up against the wall and kissed me.
Once again I don’t want this to be porn, so I’ll just say, we made it back to my place and we made love that night for the first time. Our first time, and also my first time.
He left afterwards, and I was left at home thinking about the whole thing. As I stood in the shower, letting the hot water run over my body, I began to feel more and more guilty.
I hadn’t told him, I had let J believe I wasn’t a virgin. I felt something with this man and I believed that if he knew I hadn’t been with anyone before he wouldn’t want to be with me in return.
Even to this day I wish I had told him before anything had happened, but I can’t go back, and now I have to live with that.