As a 15 year old girl, I would love to paint my childhood as a beautiful painting. A painting of yellow wild flowers, flowing in a light summer breeze. A bright blue sky with a delicately painted sun, shining down on a chubby, little 5 year old. A face covered in freckles and hair coloured brown. Only her hazel eyes to tell a story so despicable, no person should comprehend.

A story of shame. A story of helplessness and embarrassment. A truly grueling tale of sexual abuse. No story of this content is a pretty one, nor an easy one to tell.

A family member of mine. In fact, a monster of mine, haunting my young dreams, only to shape the person that I have become today. A selfish, controlling, sociopathically demented mind to say the least. This monster was my cousin. He showed me just how evil the human-race can be and how foul even a trusted family member can act in a cruel method of control. This "thing" did truly horrific things which would make one physical sick to ones stomach. This "thing" made me to do things to him which no 5 year old should have knowledge about. The evil in his eyes. The smell of his filthy skin and the words harsh words that play over in my mind which play no differently to when he first spoke them.

To paint a picture of this animal... no words, emotions or paint can paint a picture of what this person was. He was nothing. A true waste of the earths precious resources. He has claimed all my tears of hurt. He has taken away from me what seems everything in my life that matters. No human has a right to violate even a person whom has committed all wrong in their story book.

The scene which plays over in my mind which best not be described, for it is a true tale of betrayal and one my mind has no interest in comprehending. Rippling after effects which last a life time. A waste of a life. A tragedy to say the least.