Dear L.V.,

I was ten when you married my mom, and I was ten when you started to molest me every night for six years until I got the courage to leave home. Because of you I had to drop out of high school at sixteen, and work two jobs to pay rent. Because of you I wake up in the night screaming and crying from the nightmares you have embedded in my soul. Because of you I have been so scared to tell anyone my story (including my husband of eight years). I don’t want anyone to tell me I am a liar like mom did when I told her what you did.

But now some stranger is reading this and they are the only one that knows besides you and me. Maybe it will make me feel better if the whole world reads it. I didnt have the courage to tell you what a piece of shit you are when I was ten, and still now I am a little scared of you. But I wish I would have told you that you dont deserve to walk among people, or be breathing the same air we do. I wish you the same nightmares every night.

Ashley, age 27