They always say that it’ll never happen to them or their family.

She was that girl. She was that 13-year-old girl who dreamed of going to the movies every Friday night, sleeping in as late as possible and learning how to apply makeup. Seventh grade is that year to officially conquer the “baby stage,” and you’re only a year and a half away from being a freshman. It was her year to make new friends, join sports and finally experience life without her mommy holding her hand the whole time.

But, really, that’s exactly what she needed; all she wanted was her mom to never leave her side. She just didn’t know it.

He had always been around. Practically her whole life he was right there, wherever she went. He was in all of her Christmas pictures, at every birthday party, and I’m sure he will be there at her wedding one day.

And the sad thing is, she honestly never thought it would happen to her. It never even occurred to her mind. But, what’s really scary is that ever since she could mechanically think right, her momma always warned her to search for the signs; the signs of what her momma called a “predator.” She was taught to scream, “He’s not my daddy, he’s not my daddy!” She was taught not to help a stranger look for his puppy, and to not accept candy from someone she didn’t know.

You see, she came from what someone would call a “great” family, a nice home, cars, vacations and movie nights. But, every home and every family has secrets.

Without any warning, it happened to her.

He took her innocence. He took her self-being. He took away all of her dreams. He took away the brightness that used to shine in her eyes.

She felt like nobody believed her. She tried to ignore it, but she couldn’t. She began to realize that “sexual abuse” wasn’t just being raped. She wasn’t raped, but she was a victim of sexual abuse. She lived in the presence of a predator.

She tried to blow it off as it felt like everyone else was doing the same. Instead of forgetting about it, she became affected in all the wrong ways.

As eighth grade slowly dragged by, she became interested in alcohol, rap music, boys and leaving black stains in her pillowcase from the tears that destroyed her mascara at night. She wanted to scream at her mom and dad as he passed by her again and again, but how could she scream for help when they couldn’t understand? It felt like she was living in this nightmare, almost as if she was underneath a rock. No one knew that she didn’t think she was enough. She began to get acne and caked her face with blobs of foundation to feel “pretty.”

Sexual abuse is serious. According to the 2003 National Institute of Justice Report, three out of four adolescents were sexually abused by someone they knew.

There are no words to describe how he made her feel. There isn’t enough time to tell about all of the times she has wanted him to disappear from existence. But, overtime, she has learned that it wasn’t her fault. She won’t forget what has happened, and she never will. She no longer hates him as a person, but she hates the fact that it happened.

She hates that anyone, boy or girl, has to experience this awful, unpredictable sense of evil.

They exchange Christmas presents, hugs and phone calls, yet they haven’t ever talked about what happened. She realized that sometimes the best thing to do in life is to forgive the ones who have hurt you, and to never forget in order to help others.

You are not alone. Don’t be afraid to tell because things like this aren’t supposed to happen, and you have no control over it.

Although he took away my innocence, he will never take away my dignity.