i didn’t think i’d live when he fingered me so hard it hurt and i tried to sit up but he pushed me back down and told me it was okay and to be quiet so his sister who was right upstairs in her bathroom wouldn’t hear and when i told him we should stop he laughed like i’d said a joke and i laughed in return because i didn't believe what was happening was actually happening.

i didn’t think i’d live when i was lying half on and half off the couch in the middle of the afternoon in the middle of the living room with an eighteen year old man sitting on my chest and my pants undone and my shirt pulled up while he whispered things like ‘it’ll be over soon’ as he held my jaw and ****** himself into my mouth so hard my eyes watered and i gagged and tried not to throw up and said no around his ***** as many times as i could and he just insisted that it was his turn now whatever that’s supposed to mean.

i didn’t think i’d live when i couldn’t figure out what to do about the ******* he’d so kindly left in my mouth and when i thought about spitting it out i realized his sister - my best friend - would see the mess and i didn’t want her to know what he had done or have to worry about cleaning it up so i swallowed it like a champ and the taste of him still lingers in the back of my throat 15 years later.

i didn’t think i’d live when he sat me down with tears in his eyes and said that we needed to go to the bishop for what we’d done and begged me not to tell my parents and held my hands in his as if he was truly concerned about my well being and i nodded dumbly because i couldn’t believe this had happened to me.

i didn’t think i’d live when i ran home weeping and showered until my skin was raw and red and my hands were shaking so hard i dropped the soap three times and i screamed so hard my throat bled.

i didn’t think i’d live when i laid down in the sunspot on my bedroom floor and sobbed hysterically until my younger brother who never cared about me finally timidly knocked on my door and asked me if i was okay and i couldn’t find the words to tell him i’d been ***** so i just told him i’d had a fight with my best friend.

i didn’t think i’d live when food became a burden and my stomach turned on me and headaches plagued me because the weight of what had happened to me and what had been taken from me had become too much to bear and my body was slowly collapsing underneath it.

i didn’t think i’d live when i told my mom and dad what happened to me with a choked voice and tears streaming down my face and my mom told me she knew what i was feeling because my uncles - more than one - had sexually assaulted her when she was a little girl and to this day i cannot look at them without wanting to *****.

i didn’t think i’d live when my dad got so angry that his face turned red and i didn't recognize him and he clenched his fists and muttered something about his gun under his breath and i knew he’d **** the man who ***** me if he had the chance but in the same breath that held those threats he broke into a thousand pieces and held me together like a fragile broken doll and wept into my hair and i just wanted to tell him i was okay and i was still his little girl but the words were gone.

i didn’t think i’d live when i told my sister about who had ***** me and she felt sick because she had dated him to make me jealous at one point and it had worked and we’d fought over this selfish ******* like sisters do and she wondered how could she have done something so cruel to me with someone who would in turn treat me so cruelly.

i didn’t think i’d live when my ****** called me a **** behind my back and my baby brother my endless protector confronted him at four years old and asked him if he’d really called me a **** even when he had no idea the meaning of the word only that it had wounded me deeply.

i didn’t think i’d live when i told my bishop and hoped that he’d understand and that something would be taken from this man who had ***** me so he’d maybe feel a little of what i was feeling but it turns out he got off scott free and everything he worked for was given to him including his mission and going to byu and my bishop still believes it was consensual even when i told him the story over and over again.

i didn’t think i’d live when i realized that i still wake up every day for the past 15 years and think about him at some point and the smell of a wooden door in the sun makes me want to throw up and the sound of maury povich’s voice is a trigger and sometimes i wish i could tell his wife what he did to me and how he never apologized and never admitted what he did just continued to call it consent over and over again even after i told him no clearly and plainly and how his sister knows now and we’re no longer friends and his other sister thinks i’m just a **** who tried to ruin his life and how sometimes *** still scares me so badly that i want to die and sometimes i still wish i had that day.