A/N: This chapter is dedicated to: The Mighty Pen of Wisdom, skatergirlFOREVER, and Lives-My-Moonlight

Suddenly, like a save grace, I heard a sleepy voice call out. "Come on hun, let's go to bed." I tossed my head to the side heedless of the blade against my neck and saw my mother with her eyes still shut slowly attempting to get off the couch. Josh must have seen her too because he scurried off of me like the rat he was, and pressed his back against the chair not far from my feet.

I wanted to sob for joy but I didn't make a sound as his knife glittered by his side. I knew this freak would carry out his threat if I said a word. So I followed my mother to the room quietly though I could still feel his eyes gazing after me. As I laid next to my mother I stared at the ceiling as silent tears stained my cheeks. She was already fast asleep but I couldn't seem to shut my eyes even to blink away the tears. I still find it hard to admit how scared I was that he would walk into our room and finish the job.

Josh stayed for days at the house we were staying at. He even had gone so far as to get himself suspended. He told the man who owned the house that he wanted help with the cleaning of the fallen trees in the yard. I think if the owner hadn't had been so sick even he would have noticed the way Josh stared.

It wasn't until days later that I had gotten a letter written in blood from Josh that I could do a thing. Thankfully he was back at his own house as I took the letter to my mother. I was so scared that if she talked to him he would teller how he touched me. How he made me cry, any of it, all of it scared me so badly. I just didn't want my mother to hate me, to be disgusted with me. I was so afraid as she yelled at his mother for letting him give me the letter. Though I was so happy when she said that he would never come near me again.

It took me two and a half years till when I hit seventeen going on eighteen to get the courage to tell her what had happened. To this day I don't think she forgives me for not telling her then. I was just so scared he made me think I was good for nothing more than sex, hell good for nothing at all. I am still so scared of men to this day that I fear being intimate with them because of what they may see. I just don't want want to be a sexal plaything... or even thought of as one. I wonder if I will ever feel good about myself again.

Maybe in another three years or so I will have the courage to tell myself if wasn't my fault. Hey, maybe one day I can even love myself again. Sadly today isn't that day... One day I will say no more. One day I will be the one controlling my life instead of memories of him.

The End/Fin