Your house was the only safe haven when she met you. At home, she was beat. At school, she was beat, so she couldn't tell the difference between "tough love" and "learning her place" bruises.  When she met you, she was attached to her big sister. Her sister  told her to keep you company while her sister gave herself away again and again. You watched her while she slept. She woke up in your arms from a nightmare not realizing that the reality she woke up to was the nightmare that would haunt her for the rest of her life. You pushed her down and ripped away every sense of safety she had ever felt. She could hear them in the other room. They sounded like they were having so much fun and all she could think about was why was she not having fun? Why did your breath on her neck make her want to swallow herself? Your hands on her neck made her wish she were already dead? Your hands in between her legs made her wonder what was wrong with her? Why was she not enjoying this? Of course she couldn't tell her sister. How could the little girl ruin that for her best friend? After the first time, you got more confident. You brought toys of torture that you use to tear apart her sanity and replace it for hatred for everything that made her a woman. She has learned to detest her hips because you looked her in the eyes and told her you couldn't resist them. How did that 10 year old process that? She learned to cover up all her curves and stay out of everyone's way.  She learned to never say no because that just made things worse. She has learned to hide away. If you ask her about it today, she will deny it because she doesn't want to face the reality that you broke her. If you asked me today how I knew this horrid story, I would say, she is me.