I don't own degrassi. Title from good dave matthew's song and quote from One Room, One Day; house M.D.

Mother, Father

House: Are you going to base your whole life on who you're stuck in a room with?

Eve: I'm gonna base this moment on who I am stuck in a room with! It's what life is, it's a series of rooms, and who we get stuck in those rooms with,

adds up to what our lives are.

HOUSE

This isn't for you. You are probably thinking that I am a brutally cruel person to call you cruel and brutal. If you are thinking this, your assumption is

incorrect. I wasn't really talking you you, you see, I wrote all of that hypothetically. I am sure that you are a great wonderful teenager who stands up for

your friends.

But if you aren't, then I suggest you become compassionate towards your peers. Or you will always have a miserable life. Pretty ironic, by making people

miserable you end up miserable. I am pretty sure it works for happiness also.

You are probably wondering why I am writing this for you, when I am hypothetically not writing this for you. I am pretty confusing. I wrote this just in case

my Father found this letter or whatever and decided to read it. Why? You might ask, am I calling my Dad, Father. If you are wondering this you probably

either did not know my Father, did not read the last few paragraphs I wrote, or are incredibly dim-wited. Even though my father gave me half of his DNA,

he is not privileged to own that title. I am brutally honest. I guess I should have mentioned that before when you weren't so intwined in this interesting

story. Pain, it seems, has a way of drawing people together. You and me know have in unavoidable connection that will never go away. Hence why it is

unavoidable. You could be changed by reading this. Or not, that is if you are extremely dim-witted enough to the point at laughing at the last statement.

Rape is a terrible crime. I consider it to be the worst, more so then even murder. Why? You ask me. For murder you usually need a motive (unless you are

madman physopath), but with rape and molestation all you need is lust. It hurts, restless in your bed at night remembering the other night you spent in

your bed, unwillfully.

Father, I will never understand. I know I am worthless, damaged goods, to be reduced, reused and recycled set on repeat. But really I am of your same

blood, I am your daughter. Yet night after night you came, grasping me from my sleep only to give me never ending nightmares. I shouldn't pardon your

crime. You ask me the next day how I am doing. "How did you sleep." He would inquire, as if he deserved an answer. He pretended to care about me. He

would always ask me how I sleeped, and I would always sigh and look down, ashamed because of what he had done. Couldn't he tell, through looking at

my eyes behind the tears that I saw through his façade. He thought I didn't know what he had done. He thought I would forget. "Sir." I yearned to say "I

slept very fine minus the fact that you raped me and used me and took something away from me that I will always be looking for, never to find." He stole

from me the very notion of an innocent, care free life.

Yet, I love him. You don't understand. Unless you have gone through what I have, you don't understand. All of my moments with him add up, and I can't

leave out the good ones in turn for the bad ones. I'm weak. I'm confused. Father, I am frightned that I will forgive you and you'll come back and do the

same damage, or worse, you will do it to someone else. I would rather you hurt me a thousand times than hurt an innocent once. I don't know why I feel

that way, but I do.

Every night by for I sleep I find myself preparing for the battles that lay ahead that night. I find myself filled with guilt and shame and I search for the part

from me that my Father took. Yes, there is a hole in my body that is supposed to be filled with happy memories between father and daughter and is

instead crammed with fear. I reach for my blanket and pull it over my head while grasping my eyes shut trying not to replay the images from so long ago. I

pray to whoever and whomever that he is lying awake too, guilt driven and ashamed and one day he will come to me in confession saying "I have

sinned."

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