Thank you for your reviews and follows. Took me a while to write this. Real life got in the way but things are more quiet now. Hope you don't hate me for the way it's going.

You do know it's not your fault, don't you?

I nod but I also know I don't really believe it. And I'm sure she'll change her mind as soon as she knows all of it.

In a few years the safe haven I found with him turned into a cage without walls. He had me trapped between fear, embarrassement, loyalty and guilt. I saw no way out, so I kept going back to him.

I risk a quick look at sergeant Benson, feeling ashamed still for not staying away from him and fearing her impatience for not having stopped it. But her eyes remain the same, compassionate, understanding and supportive. It gives me the strength to continue.

Soon watching me touch myself was no longer enough. He started encouraging me. Giving me instructions. I had to lay on my stomach, put my hands between my legs and rock and rub on them. He'd put his hand in his pants, rubbing himself pretty much like I did myself. And I felt bolstered by that. He was an adult, he wouldn't do anything that wasn't allowed. He kept telling me 'good girl' and praising me. How could I resist that?

Later on he'd take my clothes off. Stroking my buttocks as I was doing what he told me. He'd penetrate me anally with his finger. God, I really liked that. When he didn't I'd stick my backside in the air, silently begging him to do it again...

It's then I completely break down. Sobs break through and wreck my body so hard I can't get air into my lungs. I am wheezing, struggling to breathe and Sergeant Benson moves for the first time since I started talking. She kneels on the floor in front of me, gently holding my hands in her own.

It's ok, Sophia, you're ok. You're here, you're safe. I'm with you. Just breathe. That's it. Take a breath, and let it go. Take a breath and let it go.

Her voice seems to be the only thing keeping me in the present. I try to focus on it completely and follow her instructions. Breath after shuddering breath she slowly manages to calm me down. I'm still crying and shaking but I can breathe again.

That's it. Just breathe. You're ok. It's not your fault. It was never your fault.

I'm exhausted but I can't stop talking now. She needs to hear the rest of it and she'll see that it was. Tears still running down my face I continue with my story.

One day I just didn't want to do it anymore and he took over. He rubbed me with his fingers. I didn't like it but he just kept going and going untill my body reacted. It was the first time I felt betrayed. And dirty. His hands were so rough and I ended up all red and sore. When he saw that he threatened me not to tell.

I somehow convinced him I wouldn't. And I didn't tell anyone. I didn't say a thing. But I thought myself so smart. I figured if I showed I wouldn't have to say anything. So that night, when I was in bed, I called my mom and I showed where it hurt. I was so sure she'd know what to do. She'd somehow stop it. But she just got mad. 'That's what you get for always touching yourself'. That's what she said before walking out of the room. As the door closed I cried so hard. All I could think was that it never hurt when I touched myself.

I'm so sorry. You were so smart to show her. It was so brave and you didn't break your promise. But she was so very, very wrong.

Her acknowledgement only reminds me of the disappointment, the utter betrayal by the one person I thought was going to take care of me. How I was only 6 or 7 years old when I learned I couldn't rely on anyone but me. But that's not the worst part. I just know she'll hate me when she knows the rest of it. But I can't keep it in any longer. The secret I've never shared with anyone.

I didn't only do it with him. I showed my best friend. When we were 11 or 12 years old we had a sleepover and she wondered what I was doing under the covers. I showed her. I told her what to do. And she did it too. God, how could I do that to her? She was my best friend?

I fall silent then, curling up into myself even further, hiding my face. I can't look at her any longer. I can't face the disappointment and disgust I expect. I was no better than him. Even worse. I passed it on even though I knew how bad it was.