I remember it so well, for it was only a few months ago, but even so, it seems unrealistic to me how weak; how pliable I was. As I sit in my dark room writing this, I’m reminded of my previous experiences here. Nights spent soaking my poor pillow in tears and mascara… hurting on the inside so badly that I needed to hurt myself on the outside as well, to let it out. So delicate my character was, and how badly it was tampered with… I was nothing but a puppet to him. A toy, meant to be manipulated for someone else’s amusement. And just like a puppet, I too had a smile painted on, a mask to myself, and to everyone else what was really happening.

I used to believe I was beautiful; and I was… but I was also very naive, at a mere age of fourteen. I’d never been hurt before, and I heard, spoke, saw no evil in anyone. It was then that I met Ryan, and it was then that I gave my trust to the one person who would betray me the most. He was eighteen, which seemed impressive to me that he’d be interested in me, but looking back now I see how wrong it was. It was nice at first, I was respected and treated well, and he told me he loved me. A child, I believed him, which led to my downfall, and I gave him everything I could give him… Only to be met with greed, the desire for more, and he succeeded in getting it.

Over a period of a few months, my life became turmoil; literally, a living Hell. Ryan told me I was a moron, that I was worth hardly anything to anyone except for him, and he told me that if I wore certain clothes such as skirts and shorts above my knee, guys would think I was easy and try to get with me. I was abandoned by friends, and my family was distanced; he said they were trying to brainwash me. I was alone, and to this day, I truly still am. In words, I can’t completely explain the depth of how bad it really was… As hard as I try, I can’t quite capture the isolation, the darkness and feeling of no escape that was instilled in me through this experience… Not the way it was to me anyway.

No one ever saw the bruises I wore on my body because of his ‘games’. No one ever saw the scars he inflicted to my ego, that no matter how I try, I still cannot erase. I lost the feeling of self worth, the confidence and beauty that I once radiated. I finally wriggled free of his grip, near a year later, broken, yet victorious.

But I’m still young. I intend to heal, to become a new, stronger version of the girl I was what feels like years ago. My heart feels haunted still, but even ghosts must get tired sometimes, and move on. I’ve learned that deception is the key to success, so I’ll fake it until I make it, I’ll smile until the sun comes out for me again. It can’t be long now.