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It’s been 5 years, and you still haunt me.

t’s been 5 years since I last saw you. 5 years since I found you on a Christian dating website. We had been on one date previous to that night. You invited me over for your birthday party, I went, even though the forecast showed extreme rain and hail. I spent about 3 hours with you and your friends; I was starting to fall for you. When you walked me out to my car, you kissed me very deeply, and I hate to say I enjoyed it. I kissed you back and pretty soon we were in a full blown make out session. You pulled open my passenger door and pushed me on the seat. I tried to get back up but you held me down. You were so much bigger and stronger than I was. As I started to cry, saying that I didn’t want to do this, you shook your head and laughed…. Continue reading »

Healing and releasing painful memories

I was a fashion designer in the Los Angeles area. I opened up my own business and hired a young man that we knew in the garment business as our shipping manager and coordinator. He was someone my ex-husband, now deceased, knew. We became friends with him and his wife. Later to be made their baby boy’s god parents. Everything was fine and no problems at the job. After two years and another baby, I was unhappy about the changes that a silent partner placed on my business. I designed contemporary women’s clothes at a higher price and he wanted to cheapen the clothes and go for the teenie bopper area. I was not going to invest money in something I did not want to be involved in so we closed the business. Gave compensation to all and they understood. In tern, this young man moved his family to Florida and that was that. I… Continue reading »

The Wolf and His Rabbit

I recently wrote this story as a means of coping with my assault. So I figured why not share it here. Two drastically different creatures, the wolf and the rabbit… they vary in size, diet, speed, spot in the food chain, etc. Such a duo could never exist in harmony. But with the deceit of the wolf, and the naiveté of the rabbit, one might begin to believe so. And how sad is that, for a rabbit to believe it is anything more than just a meal, to the Big Bad Wolf. There was a rabbit with the spirit of a wolf. Bold, curious, strong. She stuck out from the other rabbits. She didn’t fear things like they did. She felt she was powerful and could control anything she needed to. She had seen the ugly side of life already, she was sure she could take on anything. She forgot, she was only a rabbit…. Continue reading »

PART 5: My True, Horrid, and Concluded Story of Abuse

“Now I’ve gone for too long, living like I’m not alive, so I’m going to start over tonight…” —Hayley Williams. In the fourteen years of my life, I have found out what it means to love, to lose, to be abandoned, to hate, to love again, and to lose again. I have found out what it means to be lost and to be found, only to be lost again. In the fourteen years of my life I can honestly say that I have experienced true heartache, but with the help of my family—my true family—I have found out what it means to be happy. In the fourteen years of my life, I have learned to not let go; I learned to hold on to happiness tightly and to not let it go because it may never come back. I have learned that love is immortal, and it will exist for years to come. I have… Continue reading »

PART 4: My True, Horrid, and Concluded Story of Abuse

“To be, or not to be: that is the question: /Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer /The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, /Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, /And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; /No more; and, by a sleep to say we end /The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks /That flesh is heir to, ’tis a consummation /Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep; /To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub.” —William Shakespeare . When being relocated, I lost so much in my life. I lost my bed that had provided me with comfort even in my most uncomfortable moods. I lost my bedroom, which was where I took refuge in my darkest hours. I lost the familiarity of my bathroom. I lost the people who would honestly make me feel more at home outside of my own house: my friends…. Continue reading »

PART 3: My True, Horrid, and Concluded Story of Abuse

“I’ve never forgotten him. Dare I say I miss him? I do. I miss him. I still see him in my dreams. They are nightmares mostly, but nightmares tinged with love. Such is the strangeness of the human heart. I still cannot understand how he could abandon me so unceremoniously, without any sort of goodbye, without looking back even once. The pain is like an axe that chops my heart. ” —Yann Martel. I woke on October eighth atop of a brown couch in my aunt’s house. Text messages blew up my phone from previous friends: “ Hey when r u comin bck 2 school?”, “I miss u mucho, you better be comin bck soon!”, “Promise that u r comin bck 2 school tomorrow!” Hoping I would, I promised I would be back at school soon. Of course I wanted to go back to school; I had it all: amazing friends, good grades, and sports…. Continue reading »

PART 2: My True, Horrid, and Concluded Story of Abuse

“Behind every beautiful thing, there’s some kind of pain.” —Bob Dylan. Every story has a climax–the part in which the protagonist has to overcome an obstacle they face. To simply put things into perspective, my obstacle was my father. Reaching the middle of my twelfth year, life was great. It was summer outside, and every day my brother and I would enjoy the refreshing summer breeze. With no recent confrontation between parents, life could be described, honestly, as perfect. But as quickly as all beautiful things in my life begin, this simple paradise came crashing down just as fast. *** It is a beautiful August morning, and I am sitting on a tan couch in the back room of my house. Vince is sitting on a couch in the living room watching television. I have no idea where my father is, and just like her mother, Nevaeh is sleeping. I am ambitiously deciding to create… Continue reading »

PART 1: My True, Horrid, and Concluded Story of Abuse

“All parents damage their children. It cannot be helped. Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair.”—Mitch Albom. Being born second eldest, with my father’s child (my half sister) being born a few years before I, has left me with a sense of guardianship over my younger brother. Lydia, the eldest of us three, was born when my father was in the teen years of his life. Many years ago, I might have even called her my sister, but now I have no idea who or where she is. Vince, my younger brother, is my motivation; he is constantly there pushing me through barriers I thought I would never conquer. I was born when my father was breaking the dawn of his twenties, after he “fell in love” with a woman named Victoria. But when being realistic,… Continue reading »

Dear My Rapist

This is written to you and your friend who calls me a liar. You assaulted a girl so vulnerable, and if I could only say your name I would. You took something from me that doesn’t seem so big to you or anyone else at that party. You not only took my virginity, you took the love I had for myself away. You stole my peace of mind away, and that’s something I won’t ever get back. No one realizes this, but being a teen comes with the hardest moments of your life, and for you to bring a sudden fear of leaving my house, is disgusting. I walk through this world wondering why this would happen to me. I wonder why I drank so much, I wonder why I trusted everyone at that party. You knew nothing about me except for the fact that I was vulnerable, so I’m going to tell you about… Continue reading »


Recently single after a 2+ yr relationship, I was vulnerable and needy. Needy for attention mostly. And with my dad’s disappointment in my sexuality, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try and hang out with guys more. It did. He made many advances over the summer, all of which I turned away. I even had a serious conversation with him in which we mutually agreed neither of us were looking for relations- we were just friends. We had became pretty good friends, despite all of the harassment I endured. Why I put up with it, I don’t know. I blame myself for it daily. He asked me to come over and hang out one night, he was leaving for college in the morning. We watched a movie in his room while his parents and sister slept. It was truly enjoyable. He offered to rub my legs because I was sore from the gym, so I… Continue reading »