I never wanted to become a statistic and yet there I was trying to make sense out of something that was horrible . These are the three hardest words to write than see I was Raped. I didn't say anything about it to anyone, played it off like I didn't just let my friends brother have his way with me. Like I am soooooo sorry for all that happened. It was my fault I hadn't processed anything just let myself believe these things. I was never going to tell mom about what happened. I thought well you f***ed this up learn from it move on and it will go away. A month after it happened my friends son got hold of some matches and burned her house down. As if that weren't bad enough, her 3 month old son perished in the fire. I felt like that was my fault too. The day of his funeral is when I told mom.
YOU ARE READING
My Journey
Non-FictionThis is a true story of three of the worst times in my life. Of how I could have prevented it all by following my gut. Ladies and gentlemen if you have ever been assaulted be forewarned my book will probably bring up bad memories, sleepless nights...
