I was a 13 year-old female in Atlanta, Georgia. I was hitch-hiking as we all did in the ’70s. I got raped at knifepoint way out in the country in a large corn field. It was during my menstrual period. I couldn’t figure out if the blood was from the injury or a normal period.

I was virgin at that time. A stranger had me.

Years later I was brutally molested by friend of a friend who delighted in twisting my nipple so hard I was crying in pain and blooming rage. I later took out his knees with heavy iron skillet. I do hope he still has pain from that.

Friends were around witnessing and would only half-heartedly tell the molester to leave me alone. Yeah I was not going to report because at the time rape was always twisted around to be the rape victim’s fault. I remember someone saying “well she should not have worn that tight dress.”

I am not ashamed by this any longer because I finally believed it truly was NOT my fault.

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