From A Thomas Point of View
I know not the moment when my innocence was shattered. When my belief in man became so obscure that I thought death was better than life. I’m lying.
I remember the day that you touched me as I slept. The moment that my innocence was shattered and I was left to pick up the pieces of the dirty word I had become. I know not why I had to endure that pain.
Maybe someone can explain.
I know not why I was assaulted by two boys on the school bus. Why they held me down and hunched me as I screamed out. Kissing me. Holding my wrists. Why they chose to grind their adolescent penises in my crotch all to show me their manhood. I know not why no one came to my rescue. I screamed for help.
Because I was just a girl. Faceless. I…
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