I still remember the dark dirty floor

of the toy shed in the backyard.

The pain as every piece of clothing I had on

was getting torn off in fast motions.

The hand covering my

mouth as I screamed for someone to help me.

The help never came.

As I screamed with the sweaty hand over my mouth

I thought that this was it,

I was going to die.

I was only six years old,

all my hopes and dreams were over,

nothing pursued.

The pain was something I'd never felt before,

it wasn't a cut nor a scrap.

This pain would never go away or heal.

Then as if time stood still

I lay there thinking what my parents would think

when I told them what had happened.

I tried so hard to get myself to safety,

but I was weak every move I made

felt like the world was crashing down on me.

When really it was a fourteen year old boy crushing me

as he forced his way into my innocence.

Taking away every purity I had

and leaving me with pain and suffering.

At that moment I prayed that I would die.

For to live a life with this pain and wound that would never heal was

unbearable.

As I stopped screaming I thought I had died.

The pain was still there but I felt a light shine on me.

As I looked up I realized the torture was over he had fled

the toy shed and went back into his house.

I lay there naked in my own blood trying to figure out why this all

happened, and why it had happened to me.

To this day there isn't a moment that goes by that I

don't think about that day in the toy shed.

The pain and suffering still lurks in my head as I dream at night.

It isn't forgotten and never will be,

for that is how I learn and grow.

Sharing and preventing is something I strive for.

No one should feel that way.

No one should cause that pain.

For that pain lasts a life time.