Tragedy struck
At just age 13.
My innocence-
Murdered in the rain.
Not the physical rain,
But the rain of my tears.
My story is different,
But just as terrible.
He stole the beauty
Of my soul and heart...
Leaving me dark and alone.
He ripped my confidence
Away with a single tear.
"I love you."
The lie he told
Has made me unable
To be loved.
"You're so beautiful..."
Another lie he told
Has made me unable
To believe this truth.
He ruined my beautiful,
White wings from God.
He replaced them with
Skeletal outlines of what
Once was.
My lovely face has been
Scarred by the streaming
Tears down my face.
Clawing at my skin,
I try to wash away the guilt.
"But the guilt is not yours."
They say.
"It isn't your fault."
"It isn't your fault
That he is an evil man.
It isn't your fault
That he targeted you.
It isn't your fault
That he took advantage
Of a little, naive girl.
It isn't your fault.
It isn't your fault.
It isn't your fault.
*It is not your fault, Elizabeth."
March 1, 2017.
My story is a different one, and it was very difficult to write this piece as it brought back a lot of terrible memories. But it's only different in that, I didn't actually meet up with what turned out to be a 50 year old man. Most girls end up meeting them and having terrible things happen to them. And I am so sorry for that. I'm sorry someone stole your innocence, beautiful girls.
My story is this:
I was targeted online by a ******* at 13 years old. He told me all kinds of lies and I agreed to be his "girlfriend". He was sweet at first, saying he was 18 and he couldn't wait to see me, etc. But they all start out sweet. He began talking explicitly to me, and I complied and said the same things in the messages. A decision I regret to this day. My parents found out I was speaking to someone online, and the police were called. Three years later, after trials and fighting with him and his lawyers, he is finally in prison. But he has left me with scars and demons that haunt me every day.
My depression, anxiety, and minor PTSD have stemmed from this situation. And my mental issues may be worse than that.
I was inspired to write this out because of John Baverstock's poem "Jamie's Story". So thank you for that.
I hope you will not judge me for this.
