when I tried to tell what happened to me, everyone hushed me, tried to comfort me, said things to reassure me. No one could bear hearing the details, the reasons, why I could feel the marks below my skin, why the soap wouldn't be able to scrub my skin enough, why I wanted to peel off my skin, scrape, scratch, burn, anything to get .him. off me. I think its because they were scared. scared that by the end of my story, the horrors I would describe wouldn't seem as simple as one word.
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