12/18/07

I remember everything about this stupid day in vivid detail. I wore a black and white shirt that was revealing. A black shirt with sequins on the back pockets that was frayed at the too-short hemline. Sometimes I can still feel his hot breath on my face. I was fourteen and he was eighteen. I was small and he was big. He left bruises on me from holding me too tight. He had prying hands. When I tried to knee him in the crotch, he threw me back. I haven't hurt that bad in awhile. I saw stars and then I saw him come towards me again. He just smiled like he knew he would win. I remember having scratches on my sides from finally getting out of his hands. I told one person. And thankfully it wasn't someone who was unreliable. She held my hand and walked me to class. He followed me to class everyday, threatening me. Finally after having my first panic attack in class I told someone else. I filed a report through the school, he got one day of suspension. I filed a report with the cops, he skipped out on court. He told all my friends that I was a whore who had it coming. I hate my past.