I hate being another statistic.
I hate remembering what I could've done to get out of that situation that's scarred me up until this point & further on.
I hate the feeling of having felt I had absolutely no control in the situation.
I hate how stupid I was to have gone over there.
I hate how my mom was apprehended from taking the situation seriously when I came out about it 2 weeks later, how she said I couldn't press charges since I had no demonstrative evidence.
I hate to think the type of person it might have caused me to be, or maybe not, but either way, he was there with me in bed with partners I actually consented to. And I hate him for it.
I never thought I'd be apart of the statistic of girls who are sexually assaulted in their teens
Until I learned it happened more than I possibly thought....
The chances of it being me were more than I possibly thought.

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