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Sometimes I hate how well my sister knows me. The thought of anyone knowing what happened makes me feel sick to my stomach.
I was raped.
Everyday.
Several times a day.
I wasn't the only kid there, either. There were at least twenty other kids of different ages and genders. Watching all those kids get raped everyday made me feel hopeless. Helpless.
All of them died.
And it was my fault.
He had his partners in crime holding me down. (Of course, they were in on all the action, too.) As he began to pull down his pants, I told him that I didn't want to do it, and I never did. I wanted to go back to my dad.
"I don't give a shit, kid," he told me.
Until that point, I was in shock. These people put me through so much, and I didn't know how to react. But this man was so careless and infuriating, that I couldn't help but feel angry.
"Go to hell," was all I said back to him. I was too afraid to say anything else.
He obviously didn't like that, and it didn't take me long to realize that I made a grave mistake. He was a lot rougher with me than usual that night (it really hurt), and I thought that it would be the end to his anger. I was wrong.
The next day, he killed everyone. Every single person, associated with him. Every kid who was thrown into that mess and all seven of the partners helping him. He killed all of them while I watched.
Afterward, he made me help him dispose of all the bodies by burning them in the desert. When everything was cleaned up, he told me the one thing that proved to me that he was truly crazy: "Now I'm really going to hell, aren't I?" Three hours after he said that, the authorities appeared and I was reunited with my dad.
Those words, however, never left me. Even now, after defeating Apophis and saving the world, I just can't help but think back to all those poor defenseless children who were killed and realize that there must have been something I could've done to help. I walked out of that old shack with a three inch cut on my arm and everyone else died.
They always tell people that it feels better to get these things off your chest. I know I should tell someone, but I'm too afraid. What if everyone I loved could no longer love me back because of the things I've done and the things that I've witnessed? Having people to love and having them love me back was the only reason I was able to leave my depression behind. Or so I thought. I suddenly felt like I've fallen here, as I drown in my memories. Now I don't know how to get back up.
As I was writing this, I suddenly realized that some of the thoughts that go through my head are a bit more messed up than I would like to admit.
Anyway...
I felt a little bad for writing this. I just want everyone reading this to know that I apologize if you do not like what I'm writing about. I also want you to know that if you don't like, you are welcome not to read it. If there is any type of criticism to share with me, it must be constructive criticism and nothing else.
I also apologize for taking so long to update this. I almost forgot about my story and then I didn't know what to write when I remembered it. That and I was a little lazy. I hope you enjoyed this. Since I already have the next chapter written, I should be updating again later this week.
