As I lie awake in bed, an antique thought fills my head.
Did I actually say no, or was it just a thought? Surely, someone, I've known since I was 5 couldn't rip me apart and eat me alive?
Surely someone, who runs the youth bible school, couldn't commit such a sin?
Was it my fault?
Was it my fault that my own mother, the very person who brought me into this world, didn't believe me when I finally said the truth?
was it my fault I now have nightmares where I try to run but can't get away? is it my fault I feel sick whenever I hear his name?
is it my fault that nobody believes me? sophomore in college, he gets good grades, he plays on the football team and visits his grandmother just down the street on weekends.
he used to be so sweet, he helped me when I fell.
I was too young to know that truth or dare, was an easy way to convince a young child to expose themselves.
I was too young to know, that when I got tired of playing so hard and he held me in his arms, was not a kind gesture at all.
I was too young to know, that a 14-year-old boy forcing a 6-year-old to kiss him, was not okay.
I was too young to know that an 18-year-old forcing a 10-year-old to undress in a cornfield is not okay and that begging an 11-year-old to see their most private places is not okay.
But one thing I do know?
It will never, NEVER, be your fault.