I went out one night. I was feeling.... sad? alone? like dying? i'm not sure. So i ventured out of my safe family apartment, all 14y.o. of me. It must have been about 3a.m. I live in Vegas so I should have known better.

I met a boy. He empathized with my lonliness, told me we'd go smoke some weed if i'd just follow him around the corner. I was looking for anything to help me forget, so I went with him. We went to a dark empty parking lot. I sat down on the curb and we started talking. He asked me why I was out so late and I told him that I just needed some air.

He came in to kiss me and I let him. What did I know, he was the first boy i'd ever kissed. And then his hands went lower, under my skirt (WHY did i wear a skirt?!?!?) and he started to touch me. And I told him no, that I couldn't.

That didn't stop him, he just pushed me to the ground and pinned me there, only taking a moment to un-do his pants. I yelled at him to stop but he just put his hand over my mouth and spread my legs. He forced his way in me and I cried for him to stop but he kept going. All I could feel was the cold of the ground and his weight on me. He finished. Even gave me the weed he promised me. I snuck back home, crying.

Ironically, my mom ended up stealing the weed I was raped for, and smoking it. So... didn't even get that. But really.... I didn't care. I've never told anyone that story. And its raging a war inside me I'll never win. Here's to hoping this helps.