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You took my innocence that night, and along with it all the things I felt were right about the world. You ruined Valentines Day, the sanctity of blanket forts,my favorite bed sheets, and a dog-eared paperback copy of Stephen King's "It."
Seven years later, you came for a week long stay with my family. I slept with a butcher knife under my pillow. I remembered the creepy glares you gave me during dinner. I made a solemn promise to stab you if you tried anything like that again. Hell, I contemplated just walking in the next room and offing you while you slept. A fourteen year old girl shouldn't have such thoughts.