• Preface
    I can still hear his taunting calls ring out in my ears. I can still smell the smoke of their marijuana as if it was embedded in my nose. I can still see his laughing face as I lie on the floor, thrashing around and choking on the air that was heavy with smoke. I can still feel the tearing pain between my legs as he forced himself into me, taking my innocence at such a tender age. I still feel the agony in my veins as I limply fought the ropes digging into my flesh. And worst of all, I can still feel the embarrassment leaking into my veins that I felt that one night.
    My name is May Rose Hamilton, and this is my story.