The first thing I notice is her face there is nothing but mists of grey. She wears a dress all broken and worn, and near her middle region is a word. Mourn.
It changes to anger, and then to pain. She looks up and notices me, it's starts pouring down in rain.
"Why didn't you speak, or scream for help? Why'd you let him do this?" I hope he goes to hell.
"He did it to you, and now to me. You know there's probably more just waiting to speak because you didn't care", No. "And you didn't try", I did. "You stayed quiet while he ruined our lives." STOP!
I'm sorry I stayed quiet! I'm sorry I didn't try! I'm sorry I only thought about myself while he ruined our lives!
I'm sorry I'm not perfect! I'm sorry I never checked to see if there were anymore like me! I don't deserve your respect!
I hate myself for it, that I never acted out. I wish, that night, I would've said something. I should've screamed, I should've shout.
But I didn't, and I'm sorry because maybe if I did he never would've gotten ahold of you and you'd still be an unheartbroken kid.
Maybe God's granted me mercy by never seeing your face because he knows if I did I woudl've commited a redrum suicide in that place.