I was raped by someone who I had thought of as a best friend. She was my sister. It happened in my own bedroom, where I had just laid there and waited it out. I didn't want it then, I didn't want it during, I didn't want it even when it ended. It took me a year to realize what had happened. It took me that year to also tell anyone else around me. My sister even found out, because that very rapist tried to talk to her about me. About my "claim" that she raped me. It enraged me so much. My mother's face fell so deeply, and my father's eyes pooled with rage when I had told them. And the police were no help with anything. I was made to repeat my story thrice to them, and all for nothing.
I love you. I know it's hard to come to terms with but this happened because bad things happen sometimes. That's the truth of it.
