Remember what caused you to change

At first, you blocked it out. It wasn't until recently that you remembered out what was wrong.

School was fun, and you got along with everyone. It was a wonderful time, a time of learning, a time of making friends, a time of joys.

Your babysitter lived across the street from your parents. She was an older lady, with two teenage sons of her own.

One day, she needed to go to the store, so after bundling everyone into the car, she drove there. She left you and the two boys in the car while she ran in and did the shopping.

The older boy unzipped his pants.

He told you to suck it, threatening you when you refused. After sucking his penis, his younger brother joined in, having you suck him.

You didn't know why it felt wrong, but you knew it did, and knew you didn't want your parents or their parents to know what you did.

The next weekend, you went to your cousin's house. Afraid to tell your parents, you told your cousin, who, while only being two years older, always seemed so much wiser. She told you that was bad, it was evil. Not knowing better, you thought you had done something wrong, something evil.

You were bad. You were wrong. You didn't deserve happiness, because evil people went to hell.

That day changed you. You started doing bad stuff. Showing yourself to the boy next to you in class. Taking off your clothes and streaking.

Your personality changed. No longer the happy, innocent little girl, you started getting mad at people and hitting them. You started acting inappropriately towards others, creeping them out. You started to feel abandoned and lost.

Self esteem plunging, you lost your friends. You started being teased, picked on. You stopped taking care of yourself, doing only what you were made to do.

Wanting something, some attention, from someone, anyone, you found out as you got older that people liked to look at girls, look at their chest, look at what was between their legs, to touch girls in many places, and you started using that to get the attention you needed. Maybe not positive, but it was something, besides being called names. Being teased. Having your stuff taken and hidden.

Besides, you were dirty, bad, evil, so what did it matter anyways?

Eventually you remembered what had happened, started piecing together why you were the way you were. But by then it was already too late. You were already an outcast, and already damaged goods.