"I screamed out loud enough that my own screams shook me awake. I fell on my knees, hugging myself while rocking my body like a cradle would do. My first thought was that he was here. His touches on my body. His dirty fingers inside me. Hurting me. I rocked myself, sobbing that even after months I was still broken. I felt so dirty. So used. So weak" ........... My therapist stated that what happened to me happened to other girls. That I wasn't alone. That it wasn't my fault. Apparently Every two minutes someone in the U. S is raped and more than 1 million women are raped in the U.S. each year. She made it seem that it was a fact. That it was normal. But she didn't live it. She wouldn't understand. I never wanted to become part of a statistic. I never expected to be raped but I was. How could anyone want me again? A dirty tissue . How can I let a man touch me when I tremble under their gaze? But Alexander changed that. He makes me feel alive. Yet I'm dead inside. He says he wants me but I'm broken beyond normal . how can I let him in when his touches ignite and repulse me?