’ He said, smirking at me. I stood there, close to tears. I had thought I’d never respond like that again, the first time he did that to me I was ...ounger, easier to take control of. One year ago to the day now. He never passed up an opportunity to do it again, he enjoyed torturing me, knowing how aroused and desperate to get away from him he made me. God, I hated him so much. *** I tilted my head back, letting the warm water run over my face and over my body. Rubbing shampoo into my hair, I. The camp leader called me to the side. It seemed innocent enough, probablysomething to do with prepared activities. She gave me a piece of her mind,Quietly but with a scorn whose magnitude I couldn't believe. She talked aboutthe large difference in our ages, and her idea of what she saw me doing. Inother words, I was no better then I child molester. My head spun with herperception. Jesus, what was I doing? The adult part of me, suppressed with thehappiness of the child part of me, came back. More

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