I am at the public library lost in reading my favorite books and also checking in on Facebook. A man shot me a compliment and we chatted a while. We had stayed past closing time and when we were to part ways, he offered to walk me home. Back then I was carefree and more naive than I care to admit. I had no fear of the night and that I was a young teenage girl. I don’t really remember our conversation together, but he showed me his ID which confirms he was twenty-seven years old. I lied to him that I was seventeen, which still makes me underage. When we made it to my house, he still wanted to hang out, so we went to the park. That night I lost my virginity in the restroom. At first we were just chill and then he wanted to mess around. I let him finger me and found no pleasure in it, only pain. He said he could make me feel better if we had sex. I could’ve said no, but from past abuse I felt that was what guys wanted and that is the only way they’ll acknowledge me. It hurt even more and I was crying. I didn’t know what I was doing and clearly I wasn’t having any fun. After all of that, he walked me home for good…. I immediately busted in tears silently crying in the darkness of my room and soon after found myself bleeding. I felt disgusted with myself and thought sex was such a dirty thing. I grabbed my razor blade and slashed away at my arms, letting the physical pain take over…If only for a little while. I’m always punishing myself in one way or the other. I went to take a shower after to scrub away the filth that I felt was coating my skin. Before fifteen years of age, I was already clinically depressed and have been a cutter for three years.