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When you're three, you don't understand much about the world around you. Life is playing in fields and picking flowers, learning to read and write, and excitement is at every turn. That's how it was supposed to be. That's how it was for a couple of years. Two months before my fourth birthday, it was a August day in Tennessee. I remember playing in my backyard, near the tomatoes. It was the middle of the day and I was hungry. I went into my house, climbing up steps that seemed like mountains back then. I saw a strange man and he offered to feed me and take me for a nap. It sounded nice to me, I was tired from running and chasing bugs. I had no reason to believe someone would hurt me, and I never once thought that he could be dangerous. He gave me a peanut butter and and blackberry jelly sandwich on wheat bread, with strawberries as a side. Once I finished, he carried me into my bedroom. My father was in the room next to us watching TV. The man set me down on my bed and started stripping me down. First he took off my pink Sketchers, next it was my white ruffly socks, then my overalls. Under my overalls, I had on a white shirt with a Winnie the Pooh picture in the center and Dora the Explorer underpants. Once they were all off, he laid me down without putting anything else on me. I thought it was strange, but why would a stranger hurt me? He took off his belt and then his jeans and shirt. He sat down on my bed and started touching me. It felt strange, and I didn't like it. At first it was just fingers on my thighs and chest, but his hand crept up to my vagina and inside of it. It hurt so badly that I screamed and cried. Instead of trying to help, Daddy turned up the TV and Mommy shut her door. I continued to cry and he told me to be patient, that I was being a good girl. He loved me and he was helping me, right? Then he put It inside of me and I was much too small for even just his fingers, but his penis made me bleed. I've never been in such much pain and I've broken three ribs at once. Once he finished, he left me lying there naked. I hoped that was the end but he came three times a week until I was 10. This had to be the end. I was finally safe. I thought so until I got to sixth grade.

I was always a sporty kid, I played soccer, volleyball, and softball throughout elementary school. I tried out for the middle school volleyball team and landed on Varsity where I was the only sixth grader. My coach was also my science teacher. The first few days were normal, but after that, he started noticing me. I was 11 when he led me into our locker-room and told me to get on my knees. You can imagine what happened from there. This went on everyday after practice. When volleyball season ended, he would find reasons to make me come to his empty classroom where he would do it again. I didn't protest because I had learned back when I was three that it was no use.

Since sixth grade, it hasn't happened again and I am now 14 in eighth grade at a new school.