When I was a little girl, I had a lot of things happening in my life. I was a kid whose parents didn't know a lot about me or what was happening to me I think that I should start to speak about what my uncle had done to me for 4 years straight. I didn't understand what he was doing until I got a lot older and understood more on how to stop it. It scares me on how to bring it out because I don't know what to say to anyone without them saying something about it. 

The past three years has been hard on me though and I want to make it stop and if this is the only way is talking about it. Then ok, I will start speaking. I am still not that confident yet and that Is why I still haven't talked to the police yet. I don't think that I ever will, I know that this isn't another one of my poems but I thought that you might need to understand why and what I am writing it.  

The way that he touched me, makes me sick. If I try to forget it then maybe it will one day go away, but from the people I have seen go through it and come out of it in a better and happy way. I want to be like that, but I don't know how to be like that.  

I will never forget it. I can't forget it, it is imposable to. It will just keep coming back to me whether I like it or not. If I had the chance then I would go back and change it. I wish that I could be like most people and have the best life possible, but that will not happen for me because my life has been ruined from this. 

I blame myself for it and I know that I shouldn't but I can't help being responsible for it happening to rose. 

When I was eight years old my best friend Amy had died and then 2 weeks later so did my grandad. I blamed myself for their death because they were the only people I told about what happened to me.