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Triggering (Sexual Abuse) - A letter to HIM that I could never send.
I wrote a letter to the guy who "took advantage of" me (i despise the word rape)
It probably wont make much sense to everyone else... but I can't send it to him... and I just wanted to post it somewhere, maybe, just maybe, one day he'll find it on google or something.
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I didn't know who you were... other than that you were tall and had dirty blond hair and that you spoke with such precision and power. You almost brought the group to tears at the sad parts, make us laugh hysterically at the humor, and you made us sit on the edge of our seats at the suspense. You'd glance over at me every once in a while. My friend would nudge me to keep me from staring too intently at your artificial blue eyes. When I went up to speak as a crazed supermodel clad in a burnt bridesmaid dress I couldn't keep my eyes off of you. You'd sneak glances and winks at me after every phrase that I spoke. I'd stumble on my lines every time our glances met. I almost forgot to signal to the judges that I was done after round four.
During the time in which we were supposed to be spending rehearsing our lines to each other, I sat and pretended to be interested in my friend's less-than-interesting speech. You walked by with another friend of yours, another kid from your school I assumed. You looked over at me, practically signaling me to follow you. I excused myself from my friend's hopeless attempt at practicing. You were even taller when I was standing so close to you. You led me by the hand to the boys bathroom in the fancy prep school that neither of us attended. I remember pressing against the cool tile, my heels were awkward and your suit looked fresh out of a high-scale designer store. Your watch reflected that you had the money pouring in, so I didn't doubt that it was Prada.
I was awkward and unexperienced. You had at least 5 years on me. You kissed me roughly and I stumbled over my own feet. You are lucky I didn't twist my ankle, considering how clumsy I am. You pulled away and whispered into my ear “your legs are so ****ing perfect”
I giggled, I was flattered and awkward and nervous. You ran your index finger up my thigh, gripping the bottom of my dress. I shook my head and tried to break away from your force pressing me against the tile. You didn't budge. “I don't want to do this” I tried to explain, you laughed at me. You LAUGHED at me.
“Shut up, you followed me, you knew what you were getting yourself into.” You lifted my dress up to my waist and flipped me around so that I was gripping to the toilet seat for dear life. I choked back tears for the sake of my performance in less than 10 minutes. When you were done, you left me and told me to wait 5 minutes before I walked out so that we wouldn't look “suspicious.”
I was the first person to perform on the last round. I growled the words through my clenched teeth. “Killing anyone in this room would be the moral equivalent of killing a vacuum cleaner...”
I know my friend noticed the change of pitch in my reading. The group were on the edge of their seats as they lent forward to hear the next lines, even though they had heard it over 4 times already.
You looked up at me and smirked right before my finishing phrase
“Give me envy.
Flash
Give me MALICE
Flash
Give me your attention
Flash
Give me a-”
Tears were welling up in my eyes at that point, and I cracked. I choked out a sob on “Break”
I was disqualified for using “props.”
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