The Letters

My Biggest Mistake

October 21, 2010

Dear Victoria                                                                                                                     

You were and always will be my biggest mistake. Letting you into my life was the worst thing I could have done. If you would have kept your mouth shut that spring afternoon, then maybe I wouldn’t be here. My life would still be decent, but no. You had to say hi to me. Pull me into your little world of feeling good. I’ll never understand why God would let someone like you into my life. Sure, everyone says that God has a plan for each of his children, but this plan sucked. You were a pon in the ending of my life. Nothing good came out of it.

That day we meet will forever be burned into my mind. It’s a memory that can’t just be washed away with warm water and soap. I was walking down to the corner store for my mom. With it being spring and the flowers in bloom she needed some more things for her garden. You were standing behind the store; you’re back up against the wall and a cigarette hanging out of your mouth. I remembered you from school. You blond wavy hair matched well with your short height. There was always an air of sexy around you. All the boys from school would follow behind you like lost ducks.

You caught me staring at you so you said “Hi,” to me. At first I wasn’t sure if you were talking to me, but after looking around I saw no one else was around. Slowly, I walked up to you. You asked what my name was. I told you it was Summer. I said I knew who you were from school and you laughed. After a few minutes of silence you pulled out another cigarette and handed it my way. I was only fourteen, working my way towards fifteen at the time and I didn’t want to seem uncool so I took it. That was the start of our sick friendship. If anyone can even call it a friendship.

You started to give me rides after school on the days my parents didn’t pick me up. I’d sit in the front seat and share my life with you. One afternoon after I finished talking about one of my therapy sessions you looked at me, with glee in your eyes. “I have something better then a stupid therapy session.” You said a giggle hiding in the back of those words. There was this feeling of worry in the bottom pit of my stomach but I said OK. Oh how stupid I had been.

That evening, after I told my parents good night and headed up to my bedroom I jumped out of my window. You were waiting down the street for me in your beat up VW bus. We drove just a few miles up the street to a wooded area. After you parked the bus we walked deep into the woods were there was a bunch of other people. I didn’t know any of them because none of them went to our school. Within minutes that didn’t matter any more. I was on a high that I never imagined before. You had been right, the weed was better then any therapy session I could get. For those few hours I felt free. My first demon didn’t have a say when I was high. Who could have guessed that the high would later on become one of the many demons to haunt my soul?

After about a year I saw a decline in my grades. I was having more fights with my parents, and even my amazing friendship with Zoe was starting to turn bad. I didn’t want to lose my best friend so I told my self I was going to give therapy a try once more. I started to open up to my doctor, like really open up. It was amazing how I felt. It was better then the few hours high I had with you. This high lasted days. Still, I liked you, so I would go out with you once or twice a week to the wooded area and light up.

And then, it happened. The thing that changed my life for the worst. It was a few days after my seventeenth birthday. It started off like any other night. After my parents went to sleep, I jumped from the window, and ran down to your bus. The two of us drove those few miles, and then walked into the woods where everyone hung out. By now I knew all the people. Everyone seemed close. We lit up the joint in our small group. One by one we passed the joint around enjoying the high. I’m guessing it was laced with something because the high it took me on wasn’t like the others.

I no longer really knew what was going on. I knew I had been talking to a guy. I was kind of crying because my body had become so cold. It was summer time. My heart was also racing at speeds that it shouldn’t of been. Something wasn’t right. I told the guy that I was going to find you to take me home. After a while someone told me you left. You left. YOU FUCKING LEFT ME! What kind of person leaves their friend behind! But wait, we weren't really friend. You nothing more then someone I got high with. Its sad that it took me this long to really learn that. Anyways, the guy I had been talking to before said he would take me home. I said OK.

His truck was painted red. A beautiful bright shinny red. You could tell it was nice. I took a guess that his family was of good money. If only they knew what kind of person he was. Would they still buy their son a new truck? He helped me up to my seat since the truck sat so high up from the ground. He seemed like such a nice a guy. He pulled the truck back out of the spot it was parked in but instead of going to the right like I told him, he went to the left. I thought maybe he knew a different way to my house so I went along with it.

After a while I started to freak out. He came to stop by an old building. I didn't know where we were. I'd guess that maybe he drove into the city and we were behind a building. It was still so dark outside. Within seconds he was on top of me. At that point I should have understood what was happening but because I had been so high on weed that was laced I didn’t. I could feel him push my pants down and his fingers move up inside of me. Sure, I had sex before but never when I was high or with someone  I didn't know. I didn't even say this guy could touch me. He just did it. The tears rolled down my hot cheeks. This guy was bigger, much bigger then me. There was nothing I could do to fight him off so I just did want he told me.

I felt shame as he pushed my head down. I felt shame was he pushed inside of me. I felt shame the second time. I felt shame over and over. My birth mother's face popped into my head. The shame of how I was born hit me. More shame. When he had finished the second time he pushed me off to the side. He then took me home. Not once did he look at me again. I jumped out of the truck so fast that I fell to the ground. My hands and keens got pretty beat up. My left keen had a huge gash on it but nothing hurt more then the demons crawling their way into my body. I could feel them, jsut like I felt him. They were moving around yelling hrash words at me. I pushed myself up off the ground and took off running towards to bedroom window.

Lucky enough my parents would still be in bed. I climbed back into my window, and let my body fall onto the floor. I cried for over an hour, maybe even more. At around six in the morning I pushed myself off the floor and took a shower. A shower hotter then any other shower I had ever taken. I had hoped the heat of the shower would wash away the shame but it didn’t. All it did was make the gash on my keen burn. I took many showers like this for weeks before turning to cutting in hopes that it work. When I didn’t I just gave up. I tried to put it behind me but something wasn’t right.

Now, here I am. Writing you this letter to say that I wish you had never said hello to me. If you would have just looked the other way that spring afternoon maybe I wouldn’t be where I am today. I wouldn’t have smoked pot. I wouldn’t have been left alone in the woods. I wouldn’t have gotten into the truck. I wouldn’t have been raped. I wouldn’t have to sit here knowing my life is about to end. That I have no more hope. You would have been one less demon in my soul. If you would have just walked away from me that spring day then so many demons wouldn’t have chosen my soul to nest in.

My doctor says there is no hope. No more hope for me. I am goner for sure. My parents are mad at me because I won’t try to fix my life. Ever since I told them about the rape they have been trying to get me help. They find it painful that I don’t really want the help. I can no longer see hope for life. This is the end for me.

Victoria, I hope you don’t bring this shame to any more people. It’s a shame I don’t wish upon any one. You were my biggest mistake and I wish every day that I could take it all back.

Goodbye

Yours respectfully, Summer