"It was one of those times, he planned a trip into the woods. It had happened many times before, leave with our dogs so he could molest me in the privacy of trees. It was behind our home at the time. We hiked up the hill. I kicked at the leaves of many colors scattering across the ground. Felt the sting yet refreshing breeze that lifted my hair. I was about the age of 12. A young girl cresting to womanhood just around the corner. Once we were far enough up, he picked a spot. We sat, i cant recall if we talked. I knew why we were there, i felt it in my stomach. i knew what was going to happen. i looked at the trees. Moments later I am on my knees, garments at my ankles. he is behind me. rubbing his piece on my virginity. we're on a hill. i focus on all the leaves on the ground. the trees up the hill. smelling the woods. the maples and ferns. I find peace in them. i find them distracting. i talk about the leaves their colors. I am told to stop. i find escape in them, a comfort. It is over. We leave in silence. I touch the bark as we descend towards home. and the trees weep for me"
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