. , that’s you dear.”Maureen put the picture down on the sofa, “No. No. That’s not me.”Andrea wanted to tell her it wasn’t, but it was, �...No honey, that’s a picture of you.”Maureen lashed out, “You never showed me this before! Why now?”Maureen didn’t like the picture. She didn’t like the flow of the conversation. She wasn’t very sure if she liked her mother very much right then either, “Why did you wait till now to show me this?”Andrea didn’t answer her daughter. She handed her another. The first rape was the most painful, I cried the rest of the night and into the morning. He took me over and over again in that first hour. His palm pressed hard against my mouth. His belt buckle left welts that didn't fade for days and the bruises on my inner thighs kept me from my horse back riding. The next weeks until school began were my worst. I told no one and suffered through the encounters with silence. He raped me anywhere he could, taking all he wanted and leaving nothing behind,. More

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