<<DISCLAIMER:: this work is based off my own experiences with a sensitive topic that not a lot of people may be comfortable reading.>> I can feel his hands on me, even after the damage is done. but my mind still remembers, my body frozen in fear. I couldn’t scream, or make a small squeal. there was no noise, just a ringing in my ears. a part of me died in that room, I can’t remove that part of me now. sometimes I wake in sweat, with tears trickling down my face. the moment I stopped fighting, was the moment I began to feel lost. my body didn’t feel like mine, my body was no longer my temple. it is a reminder, to a question I ask myself. “who’s there left to trust?”