A/N: Hey, Guys. This is my first Published. Just a heads up it deals with some pretty heavy stuff. I'm definitely open to feedback. I've already got a couple chapters listed and I hope to be able to keep them coming I would really like to know what you think. I would even be willing to incorporate some of your ideas.
Prologue
Ashley's POV
I can still remember the confusion. I had no idea what was going on. All I know is that he said he loved me. At that point I had only ever felt love from my family, with the exception of my mother. I always wondered what I did to make her not love me.
I was 10 years old at the time. He was 16 or 17. I don't really remember. We were neighbors and he was always nice to me. My older brother, Dan, and I would always go play across the street with Joe, Brittany, and Jessica. The girls were Joe's younger sisters. Brittany being my age and Jessica being my brothers age, 12.
We would all play hide and seek all the time. Joe would always show me where the best hiding spots were and he usually hid with me. Always sneaking out before anyone found us.
It started out simple. He kissed me on the cheek and told me that he was glad we got to spend time together. It made me happy to have someone around that cared about me, seeing as my mother seemed to hate me and my father was always gone on tour with his rock band, Purple Venom.
One day we were hidden in a place no one knew existed, so we knew we wouldn't get caught. He randomly pulled out his penis and put my hand on it. I tried to pull away but he assured me it was okay and it's what people did when they were in love. Then he proceeded to tell me that we were in love when I looked questioningly at him.
I remember being so scared when he made me put my mouth on it. I didn't want to, but I felt I had no choice because he might not love me anymore if I said no. Afterward he told me that I couldn't tell anybody, and when I asked him why he said that no one would understand and that we would never be able to hang out again.
Then he proceeded to give me 'gifts' to make sure I kept quiet. Like money, or flowers. I was too young to fully comprehend what was going on, but I was so scared to tell anyone the truth because I thought I would get in trouble. He made me feel like I was doing something wrong and that I was at fault.
One day he took me to 'our spot' and tried to have sex with me. I didn't know what that was. I told him that it hurt and I didn't want to but he told me it was okay. It was supposed to hurt the first time and that it would start feeling better later. It never did. And no matter how much I cried and told him I didn't want to, he kept going. It was one of the worst experiences of my life.
After that day I started withdrawing from him. I stopped following him to 'our spot' and started trying to hide by myself. I never told anyone about it, thinking I would be the one to get in trouble. About a year later me and my family moved to another town and I never saw him again.
I still have nightmares, which aren't really nightmares, just memories. Brutal, vivid, terrifying memories. What's worse than the nightmares? Simple. The dreams. The dreams of being happily married to the perfect woman with two beautiful children and the perfect life. What's so bad about that, you ask? The fact that everytime I wake up I realize it was all a dream and then the reality of my poor excuse of a life comes back.