2004 (9/10)

The following summer, when I was 10, I began spending time with some 11-year-olds in my neighborhood. One day, at an 11-year-old’s house, he showed me a large folder of high-quality pornography on his computer. I was immediately envious. He then proceeded to masturbate. Although initially surprised, I was also excited and understood the feeling. I chose not to participate, but I did watch the pornography. 

I was old enough that my parents allowed me to go to the sea in Split. The next day, Lenny, my older friends, and I hopped on a bus that took us all the way to Split. The city itself was located on a peninsula, with a hill covered in forest at the top. While there were many beaches around the forest, we didn’t visit them. Instead, we headed to the center of Split and then walked south to Bačvice Beach. We laid our towels down, hid the money for the bus ticket home, and went for a swim. Bačvice Beach was shallow for the first hundred yards, and only after that did the sea get deeper. The shallow area was perfect for playing a game called “picigin.” It requires at least 2-3 players, but can have up to 9-10. The goal is to hit a small ball with your hands to keep it above the water for as long as possible. Since the game is played in shallow water and people don’t always have the best aim, you sometimes have to jump to the side to kick the ball or throw yourself to the side to hit it just before falling into the sea.

We had a lot of fun playing picigin. We also jumped from the lowest cliffs, but when we climbed up to about 30 feet, we got scared. Later, some kids from Split arrived, and one of them used the same kind of offensive language I’d heard at that suburban gathering. He said things like “God fucks you” and “fuck you Virgin Mary.” He also drew a Nazi swastika on his chest with a pen. To top it off, he then jumped off a 30-foot cliff, performing some minor stunts as he went. 

The troubling part was that we all admired him. Emboldened, I worked up the nerve to jump. The instant I left the cliff, fear gripped me, and I questioned my decision. A moment later, I hit the water, and the feeling was incredible. I had faced my fear and proven something to myself. I jumped again, but this time, upon landing, my leg scraped against some rocks, causing a small, bleeding wound. 

After I climbed back up, one of my friends, already hesitant to jump, saw my wound and admitted it had completely discouraged him. However, Lenny bravely took the plunge. Once he was back up, we moved on to explore more cliffs. We found ourselves near the Split ferry port and discovered an abandoned building that provided access to even higher cliffs. 

On our way, we encountered human feces, urine stains, and used syringes scattered on the ground. The stench was awful, and we all realized it was a known hangout for drug users. The final cliff we reached was significantly larger than the others. We even saw some older guys diving headfirst from the top. We then returned to our towels, got dressed, and took the bus home. Before boarding the bus, we grabbed some hot sandwiches. As we got on the bus heading home, Lenny’s older brother entered with his friend and two girlfriends. He greeted us, and I thought it would be amazing to have such a cool older brother. That summer, we went back to Split several times to swim and hang out at Bačvice. One time, I saw a couple holding hands, and they kissed after swimming. I wanted to be like that. 

Another time, some guys were chasing after some bad guys. They ran toward the center of Split, so we followed them to see what was going on. Apparently, the bad guys had been abusing some children on the cliffs, and others wanted to confront them. When they finally caught up with them, we found ourselves in the middle of the city at an intersection, still in our swimming shorts. We headed home. 

That year, RTL television also started broadcasting in Croatia. They aired American sitcoms like Family Matters, Full House, The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, and others. I liked watching those shows, but I looked forward to the weekends more. At that time, RTL also aired some softcore films. You could see nudity, but not explicit content. That was enough for me. 

Croatia Television, HRT, didn’t offer anything like that. What they did air were reruns of Sex and the City. I always wanted to watch that show because all my friends bragged about it. It had some light sex scenes. I would try to sneak into the living room every night, but I often ran into my mom, who was watching it. She would shoo me away, even though I was just trying to catch a glimpse of the sex scenes in Sex and the City. 

That eventful summer came to an end, but my exploration of self-pleasure continued. It was likely around this time that I began experiencing ejaculation, which meant dealing with the resulting mess. 

School had started again, and I was in fourth grade. My parents told me we would be moving to Split in two years. Our house felt crowded. Some aunts moved to other houses in the suburbs, while others wanted to stay and start families there. I’m not really sure why we moved out in the first place. One day, I went to take out the trash, and on my way back, I saw my friends returning from practicing soccer at the local soccer club. 

I tried to sneak past them so they wouldn’t notice me. I hid in my neighbor’s yard, but it turned out to be a strange move and an awkward situation because they saw me. They asked what I was doing, but I didn’t say anything. 

Then they asked me why I didn’t play soccer. Eventually, I decided to start training at my local club. I wasn’t very good at soccer, mainly because I was clumsy and unsure of my skills. My coach, Ray, was a great player who had played in the senior division. I blamed him for not being able to turn me into a good player because I was hardworking, and he was stubborn in his coaching style. I’m not sure why I even stuck with it for so long. At one point, I stopped training, but I ended up coming back quickly. I started playing soccer matches in the little league. I was really insecure when I played, especially since I was in defense and sometimes had to be aggressive to stop the opponents. One time, I had to kick the ball toward the center of the field, but as soon as I struck it, I injured my hip. The match was paused, and I stepped off the field, away from the area where the other players were sitting. A few of my teammates came over to check on me. Naturally, I started crying, but luckily only a few people noticed. Afterward, we went to the dressing room to take a shower.

The older guys undressed and went to take a shower, while we younger players stayed in our underwear. It was embarrassing to be exposed, and I’m sure others felt the same way. Later, in another soccer match where we were losing 2-0, our team had a free kick from the corner of the field. I was about 20 yards from the goal when, unexpectedly, the ball came toward me. I kicked it and scored. I didn’t celebrate much because the score was still 2-1, so I started to jog back toward our goal, but my teammates were really excited. 

One day, Lenny and I were hanging out by the soccer field, the only ones there. We went to a nearby forest to relax. He told me he’d been to a brothel with another classmate and that the sex workers had put condoms on their penises before having sex with them. I wanted to believe him, but I suspected he was lying. He asked if I’d ever measured my penis, and I said it was about 4 inches erect. He claimed his was 5 inches, but I suspected he was exaggerating. I suggested we go to the river, turn our backs to each other, and masturbate. He agreed. We walked to the river, and I suggested using leaves for added stimulation. We masturbated and then went home. 

One day, Lenny and some older friends suggested we go to an abandoned quarry where my grandfather used to work. We explored the quarry, playing with some old fire extinguishers we found there. We climbed to the highest point, and the view was amazing, stretching across the entire suburb and even parts of Split. I returned home from that outing feeling good.