Words could never be enough to express my feelings for you. There are none as degrading and hateful as the way I feel towards. You - you make me sick. What you did to me - what you did to a twelve year old child - is disgusting. At sixteen, how did you even find me attractive? I hadn't even hit puberty, and yet there you were, whispering what a slut I was, how I shouldn't dress so provocatively if I didn't want something. I never knew shorts and a t-shirt were such a taboo. I never knew that you weren't allowed to touch me when I said no.

I never knew that attempted rape was a crime.

And I look back on it, and I realize you're the reason I fuck up so many relationships. YOU are the reason boys make me so nervous and skittish. I will never forgive you. Darling, I hope you get what you deserve. I have not had a normal relationship since meeting you. You destroyed my ideals, ripped my happiness away, and left a battered shell of a little girl. And that's what I am now. At fifteen years old, I am a scared little girl who is afraid to be touched, a complete control freak, and who has developed a severe eating disorder. Why? You. You did this to me. I still have nightmares about it, if someone exerts their strength over me in something as simple as play wrestling, I can't breathe and burst into tears.

You violated me. And you shattered my idyllic life. I hate you for it. Last I heard of you, you were in Juvenile Hall. God knows how many other little girls you've done this to, and how many you've actually succeeded in raping. I count my lucky stars daily for the fact that I got away. The scars are still there, though. The thought of sex terrifies me. Most boys scare me. You pushed me to a subhuman level.

And so, Victor, though I'll never send this, I've taken pleasure in penning these words. And Victor?

Fuck You.