I can still feel your hands wrapped around my arms, feel them pressing in my skin, fingers indenting into the muscle, deeper and deeper you go. Pushing so hard I cannot make a sound from fear you'll hurt me more. Here I stand years taller, still scared and shadowed from your hurtful touch. You said we were friends, the best of, yet you took me and my freedom, things that weren't yours. I did what they said to do; called for help, they raped me even more, cried for mentality, received some light, but there is a touch, if anyone reaches it I lasp, trigger, fall. I start to see your face again, feel your touch, see the dark, someone save me, save me from my own memory. It haunts me.
