Independence Day is no longer a day in my mind of fireworks... It's the day I died. The night I lost a part of myself.

I was drunk, I was given Xanax and my body gave up on me. All I have left are flashes of memory.

The hardest part is not knowing what I thought, what I felt... what happened. I was scared and angry the next morning and I can't even remember why.

The judicial system could care less. My "weak case". Do you think it could have been consensual when you find out you have a tampon inside of you days later from a Rape Kit? How dead I must have been.

What did he do to me? Why didn't I do anything?

The feelings I have are impossible to express because I don't even know how to feel. How do you create a feeling from something which you don't even remember? From something which you have no idea what you felt about at the time? I can't. I don't think I ever will.

Was it rape?
He didn't think so.
So, should I?

I hate myself. I hate my body. I hate that night.

I am not a direct victim but I am a victim. I have never been the same since I got that call, my baby sister was raped. My sister!!
No it was not me, though it will never be the same. I have never seen my sister smile the way she use to...
I lost my sister that day, that happy bubbly little girl is no longer there. Now a scared timid girl remains.
Really Guys, she is someone's little sister, someone's daughter, it could be your little sister. I never thought it could be mine...
But it was my baby sister.
I follow a rule : I will treat a girl the way I want my sister to be treated. ( like a Queen)