I've decided to try and write down my story - at least the parts I remember...

I remember the first day I met him and his dog. I was 7 years old and was walking home from school. He was around 17 years old and was out walking his dog - a labrador. I stopped to play with his dog and was excited when he gave me the leash and said I could help him walk the dog. I remember walking through the field between the school and the street where I lived, where I gave him the leash back and proceeded on my way home.

The next day he was in the field walking his dog so I ran over to him and he let me walk the dog again. When we reached the street, I left him and the dog, and went home. This routine was repeated several times.

I remember another day and I'm playing with the dog. We were tossing a ball and the dog was bringing it back...I was very happy.

I remember he and I climbing this huge old tree that grew in a corner of the field. I remember the dog laying on the ground under the tree while we climbed...I was happy.

I remember playing with the dog under the tree...I was happy.

I remember being under the tree with the dog. I remember the dog rolling on its back so I could rub its belly. I remember the dog getting aroused. I remember him saying "don't be scared, it means he likes you". I remember him telling me the dog liked to be licked there...I was no longer happy.

I had been trained.

I was now "their bitch"...he would tell me this many times.

I remember that we would walk over to the tree, he would have me play with the dog and get it aroused. I would be required to lick and suck on the dog while he watched and masterbated. When told, I had to stop sucking on the dog and come suck on his dick until he came.

I feel trapped. I can't tell. He shows me a knife. He'll kill me if I do.

One day it stops. He is not in the field when I walk home. I don't ever see him or his dog again. I feel sad. Why do I feel sad?

I remember grade 6, I'm 10 years old. We have our first sex ed. class. While everyone else is learning the difference between good touching and bad touching, I'm learning about shame. Can they tell? I think they can. I start to withdraw from everyone.

Grade 7, I'm 11 years old. We change schools. Everyone has groups of friends, cliques. I am the small, quiet, geeky kid. I don't fit in. Why don't they like me? Do they know? I think they do. I withdraw even more. We ride the bus to school. I suffer. Everyday the teasing seems worse. Do they know my secret? They must. I am beaten by the school bully. I cry. I beg my parents to let me go to another school. I want to go where nobody knows me or my secret. Parents don't understand. They don't know my secret. They say: "Just ignore them"; "If you don't give them the reaction they want, they'll leave you alone"; "It just seems bad now, in a few years you won't even remember any of this".

I shut down. Nothing matters. Take the beatings. Suffer the humiliations. Nobody understands.

Grade 9, I'm 13 years old. Another new school...High School. Things will be better, right? Wrong. Friends come and go. One day friend, the next day, foe.

Grade 10, I'm 14 years old. Early in the school year a new girl says hello. She asks me my name. She wants my phone number. I wonder who has put her up to this? Who is using her to humiliate me again? I wish they would leave me alone.

Grade 11, I'm 16 years old. I get invited to a pool party by a classmate. He says just a few people invited, would like me to come. I wonder why he's asking me. What are they planning to do to me? I don't go.

I spend two more years looking down. I think: "Keep your head down, maybe they won't see you". "If they don't see you, they can't hurt you".

I am acting out. I am hurting myself. No one notices. No one pays attention. cutting...to much attention. try something else.

Last week of school. Old friends pretend to be chums. Fake. You all had your chance. I'm leaving. I'm moving to another city to attend college.

First day of college. No one knows me. I am a new person. I make friends. I go to parties. I play sports. I am a part of a group. I am happy.

Last week of second year. I arrive at school early. I go to gym. I am changing into clean clothes to attend classes. I don't see them come into the locker room. I hear them behind me. I turn around. I have seen them before, but do not know them. They are surrounding me, taunting. I don't understand. They are on me. One holds me down while the other gets behind me. STOP PLEASE STOP They do not. They each take their turn. I am broken again. I do not remember getting home. I am home in the shower. The water has gone cold. I am cold.

Last day of the year. I lash out at a good friend. Tell him I won't need his phone number because I won't ever be back. He looks hurt. I don't deserve friends.

I go home for summer vacation. I do return in the fall. I am looking down. I don't need friends. I work. I study. I finish the school year and graduate. It has been 13 years since I graduated. I have not looked up yet.