Alright, this is my first story, just to let you know. It's based off a fear that I had, that I couldn't get over. So, I wrote about it, to see if I could get it out of my mind. I was able to get the fear out, and replace it with 'Where the heck is this story going?'. :) It went from a way to let out my thoughts, to something I couldn't quite put away. So I kept on writing, and am still writing now. Thank you for reading. :)

~*~

You know the saying "The night of your life is when you'll die"? Yeah. I've already had the 'night of my life'; I've already died. On the inside, at least. My name is Camryn Gaithe. When I was fourteen, I was raped. This is my story.

I rememeber that night so clearly. Of course I would. I'm not going to make this sound cliché, and say 'It was like it was yesterday', then fade into the background.

Finally, dance class!I thought as I walked up to the studio door. Once every week, I took clogging classes. It was probably the easiest and most fun dance to take, so I came whenever I could. Uusally, it was all girls, with me, Mrs. Megan, the instructor, and a few older girls. But today, there was a guy who looked about 17, sitting there in the studio, putting on clogging shoes. I smiled at him, being polite.

If only I knew what he was there for, then I would have never glanced at him. It was that one smile that changed my life forever.

"Okay, this is Jay. He's going to be taking a few classes with us here." Mrs. Megan said. The older girls started giving him looks that made me want to puke."So, we're going to show you some routines, you're welcome to join us if you want to." He nodded. She turned toward the other girls.
"Remember, during the last chorus, you're going to turn on the Samanthas, but still do the Joeys."

She put on Boogie Shoes by KC and the Sunshine Band. I couldn't help but grin. That's one thing about clogging: It's impossible to feel bad, or frown while you clog. For me, it's a way to lose myself, forget all that's happing, and just be. No thinking, or acting, I can just be. Be me.

We clogged through the routine one time before Jay decided to join in. Much to the girls dismay, he stood next to me, and only me. He was on my left, and I had been the last one on that side.

I should have been scared then. But I wasn't.

He was actually pretty good, long story short.

Class ended at about eight O'clock, and I started walking home. It wasn't that long of a walk, just a few blocks. I still had the sound of metal plates clicking together with each step fron the routine, so I hadn't even heard or noticed the footsteps sounding behind me. That was the mistake that would cost me.

Even now, four years later, I wonder why I was walking. It was a small walk, but it was dark. Everybody knows you shouldn't walk home alone after dark.

Finally, I noticed them, the footsteps. Especially when they came to a halt as a cloth covered hand reached out from behind me, covering my mouth, shutting off my supply of conciousness.

Thank you for reading this! Criticism is welcome. Though, before you make it too harsh, please know the story will get better (hopefully) in the next few chapters. Thanks, and DFTBA!